By Tracy Loew

The Oregon Department of Agriculture has no authority to deal with conflicts between growers of genetically modified and non-GMO crops, director Katy Coba said in a letter to Gov. John Kitzhaber this week.

Nor does the department have authority to develop a mapping system to coordinate what is grown where and when, the letter said.

Kitzhaber directed ODA to do both as part of a deal he brokered with legislative leaders last fall to pass a statewide ban on local regulation of GMO crops as part of his “grand bargain” tax package.

DOCUMENT:Gov. Kitzhaber Letter

Only Jackson County, which already had qualified an initiative for the ballot, was exempt. Voters there passed a GMO crop ban in May.

In a letter to Senate President Peter Courtney and House Speaker Tina Kotek last October, Kitzhaber asked ODA to complete an action plan for the work by June 2014.

Coba’s letter fulfills that requirement, ODA spokesman Bruce Pokarney said.

In her letter, Coba explained that state law does not require farmers to report information about their crops to ODA, making it impossible to map crops that could cross-pollinate.

ODA can regulate GMO crops that have not yet been de-regulated by the USDA. It has adopted one control area order under this authority, for genetically modified bentgrass grown for field trials in Jefferson County.

And it can provide input and monitor trials of so-called biopharmaceutical crops, or genetically modified crops designed to produce vaccines, drugs, enzymes or other medicinal compounds.

So far, ODA has not been notified of any biopharmaceutical crop trials proposed in Oregon, Coba said.

Neither Courtney nor Kotek could be reached for comment.

As part of the deal, Kitzhaber also promised to convene a task force to study both GMO crops and GMO labeling.

The Task Force on Genetically Engineered Agriculture will hold its sixth meeting July 10. The time and city of the meeting have not yet been released.

It is expected to release a draft report in the fall.

The original article published in the Statesman Journal on 7/3/14 can be found here.

By Eric Mortenson
Capital Press

Rural Oregon, meet Portland.

You may think you already know it: A big, know-it-all place that leans hard left, drives a Subaru and decides every election. Filled to the brim with activists and annoying, dismissive hipsters. Wants to restrict, regulate and label everything, it seems, and tell the rest of the state what to do.

Throw in Portland’s traffic, crowds, high prices and its vaguely-threatening street people — it’s no wonder many of Oregon’s farmers and ranchers want no part of it.

And that’s a mistake.

Katy Coba, director of the Oregon Department of Agriculture, was talking about that the other day. She said a Willamette Valley grower told her he doesn’t even like to visit Portland.

Now, Coba is a jean-jacket Pendleton girl who worked the family wheat harvests and was chosen Roundup Queen back in the day. But she came of age professionally in Portland, and still works those power circuits as state ag director in Salem.

So she told the grower, “I know exactly how you feel. But where is the population that’s eating the food you grow? And don’t you think it’s important to interact with them a little bit and see what makes them tick?”

Good point. Because, like it or not, Portland influences everything in this state. It’s the consumer, marketer, shipper and brander. If it approves of you, you’re golden. If not, it can cause you trouble. President Obama took more than 75 percent of the Multnomah County vote in 2008 and 2012, topping 80 percent in multiple precincts. Guess who will decide whether Oregon labels or bans GMO crops?

Nearly half the state’s population, about 1.7 million people, lives within 30 miles of downtown Portland. Name the state’s major attractions and Portland’s got it: From the Blazers, Timbers and Thorns to the Oregon Zoo and OMSI, served up with a spectacular view of Mount Hood, a beeline to the coast and a gateway to the Columbia River Gorge. The New York Times swoons over Portland, with story after story about how hip and clever the place is. One called it the “capital of West Coast urban cool.” Even Gov. John Kitzhaber said “meh” to Salem and declared he was going to spend most of his time in Portland.

Yes, Portland is self-absorbed. You know the TV show, “Portlandia?” It’s only half-parody. One episode depicted an obsessive foodie couple questioning the restaurant waitress about the chicken on the menu. They learn he was raised on a diet of sheep’s milk, soy and hazelnuts. “His name was Colin,” the waitress says soothingly.

“Keep Portland Weird” is the city’s unofficial slogan — stolen from Austin, Texas, by the way — but the rest of Oregon isn’t grinning. At the Corvallis exit down I-5 recently, a big pickup carried the bumper sticker, “Make Portland Normal.” An SUV out in Hillsboro, a suburb west of Portland that went from ag to high-tech in the span of a generation, provided another bumper sticker response: “Weird Isn’t Working.”

Rural producers probably feel the same way about Seattle, San Francisco and Boise, but Portland’s a special case. Nonetheless, here are some things to consider:

• Despite the slogan, Portland isn’t as weird as it pretends to be

Granted, there’s the annual naked bike ride, the woman who rollerskates topless and the guy who wears a Darth Vader mask and blows flames out of a bagpipe. While wearing a kilt. And riding a unicycle.

And, yes, the counter clerks and restaurant servers often have lip rings, nose rings and tattoos running up one arm and down the other. They are among the throngs of vaunted “young creatives” who are cooler than you’ll ever be. But just as often, they’re hard-working, intelligent, literate, ambitious and open-hearted.

Traffic is heavy by Oregon standards, but Portland drivers are quite civil. They stop to let pedestrians cross streets and rarely honk, even at jerks who deserve it. They’ll let you into their lane with a “Oh, no, you go” wave. “Portland polite,” it’s called by people who have lived in other cities.

Portland has wonderful parks and conserved its walkable old neighborhoods, which retain local stores, schools and professional offices clustered around century-old houses. Portland’s suburbs are as bland and filled with mega-chain stores as anywhere else, but many parts of the inner city have a small-town feel. For example, residents of Sellwood, a southeast Portland neighborhood, can walk to two parks, a branch of the Multnomah County library, a swimming pool, movie theater, doctors, dentists, orthodontists, veterinarians, two grocery stores, three brew pubs and half a dozen other good restaurants, a hardware store, auto repair shops, attorneys’ offices and more.

“There are towns within Portland,” says Katie Pearmine, who grew up part of a Gervais farm family and now lives and works in Portland for the Oregon Food Bank. “You can walk around, you know everybody. There’s a bakery, the coffee shop and the local store where people know each other.

“It’s one of the best cities in America,” Pearmine says. “It’s a great place to live, and it holds a lot of the same values (as rural Oregon).”

• Portland LOVES farming, but it isn’t so sure about agriculture

The local food movement was born here, and the city’s foodie reputation is well-deserved. Check out the menu from Higgins, one of the city’s best-known restaurants.http://higginsportland.com/menu.php It names farm and ranch suppliers from Gaston, Wallowa, Canby, Parkdale, Scio, Maupin and many other small Oregon towns.

The greater Portland area has nearly 60 farmers’ markets, and every one of them is packed, spring to fall. Many farmers have found the markets provide a welcome alternative revenue stream, with customers eager to buy seasonal fruit, berries and vegetables. But selling at Portland markets requires patience and engagement.

Janna Coleman drives three hours from Hermiston to sell at Portland markets on Wednesdays and Saturdays. She sells cut peonies and blueberries, while family members back home grow hay, wheat and corn. Her Portland customers, she says, have two questions about her blueberries: Are they organic, and why is she using plastic containers?

Coleman explains she tried to be organic but had to treat the blueberries for a root weevil infestation and interrupted the organic certification process. Some customers walk away.

“We’re not chemical dumpers,” Coleman says. “We live where we grow.”

As if on cue, a woman approaches, looks over the berries and asks, “When did you last spray them?”

Coleman says many customers can’t grasp the scale on which the family farms; they have 200 acres of blueberries alone, and only about 1 percent of the crop is sold at retail farmers’ markets.

“I think that blows people’s circuits in Portland,” she says.

Three booths down, Zina Martishev sells strawberries, raspberries and a raspberry-blackberry cross called a tayberry. Her family farms in Canby, a small town southeast of Portland, and sells at five regional markets.

“Portland,” she muses. “I don’t think they know how hard it is to grow it, bring it here and to sell it.”

Even organic growers, who enjoy knee-jerk acceptance from Portlanders, find it difficult to explain themselves. Anna O’Malley, who sells vegetables in Portland for Eugene-based Groundwork Organics, says customers have to wade through terminology and even the impact of weather.

“Up here, you read about the weather and decide what to wear that day,” O’Malley says. “Everything happening with a farmer today is connected with weather that happened two weeks ago or a month ago.”

Many Portlanders emulate farmers on a tiny scale with raised-bed vegetable boxes, rented space in community gardens, berry patches and backyard chicken coops. Portland Homestead Supply Co., on busy Southeast 13th Avenue, offered June classes in canning, pickle making, pig butchery, cheese making and organic solutions to pests and diseases.

Coba, the state ag director, agrees that Portland doesn’t know what to think about the size and complications of commercial agriculture.

“Conventional ag is not bad ag,” she says, “I don’t know how to get that message across.

“Most Portlanders think if you run a family farm, that’s a good thing,” Coba adds. “But they have in mind that corporate ag is bad.”

She says there are probably fewer than 20 large corporate operations in Oregon out of more than 35,000 farms. In fact, more than 90 percent of Oregon farms are family owned and operated. If they are incorporated, it’s for business and tax reasons.

Can conventional Oregon agriculture win over Portlanders?

“We can’t stop trying,” Coba says. “We always have to be reaching out about what it takes to be a successful farmer. Will we ever succeed? That’s another question.”

• People really do use bicycles for everyday transportation

And buses, street cars, light-rail MAX trains and the Portland Aerial Tram, which connects the booming South Waterfront District to Oregon Health & Science University with a pair of 79-passenger trams that slide up and down a steep cable system.

But it’s bikes that stand out, in part, unfortunately, due to an arrogant minority who believe cycling makes them Better Than Thou and to stunts such as the annual Naked Bike Ride. Held in June, it attracts thousands but leaves you wishing most of the participants had kept their clothes on.

Beyond that, however, biking is a viable option. According to 2012 figures from the Portland Bureau of Transportation, 6 percent of the city’s commuters use bikes. That’s more than 17,000 workers and is the highest percentage of bike commuters among large American cities, according to the bureau.

Bikes now account for 20 percent of the traffic on the Hawthorne Bridge, one of the major commuting arterials into downtown Portland. More than 3 million bike trips have been registered since a counter was installed on the bridge in August 2012.

There are reasons behind the numbers. First, parking downtown costs a minimum of $9 a day, so there is money to be saved. Second, Portland has invested in bicycle infrastructure, with 319 miles of bikeways to help people get around. One path, the Springwater Corridor, passes through the Oaks Bottom Wildlife Refuge and gives riders frequent glimpses of deer, geese, herons and even bald eagles.

At rush hour, riding a bike into and out of downtown is often quicker than driving the clogged boulevards.

Finally, it’s relatively safe. Most drivers, especially downtown, are accustomed to sharing the roadways with bikes.

Biking isn’t just for Lance Armstrong-wannabe types. Of commuters, 35 percent are women. Retiree Tom Gihring, still wearing his bike helmet as he bought some flowers recently at downtown’s Pioneer Courthouse Square, says he rides “everywhere” from his home in the Irvington neighborhood on Portland’s east side.

“There’s no need for a car,” he says.

• Yeah, but …

It’s a city. It has gangs, which occasionally like to shoot each other. Mumbling transients are a common sight, and the street kids who hang out downtown can be crude, loud and scary. Gentrification, with wealthy yuppies and retired professionals snapping up older homes close to downtown, pushed much of Portland’s poor into east Multnomah County, away from services and traditional minority neighborhoods.

The median listing price for a house in Portland this spring was $320,000, or about $60,000 higher than the state median. The average driving commute time is 27 minutes, but that can double when the highways back up. Morning and afternoon traffic on Interstate 5, Interstate 84, the Sunset Highway and Interstate 205 is as jammed as anywhere else.

The city often stumbles over its own progressive feet. When a teen urinated into one of the city’s reservoirs this spring, Portland officials were ready to dump 38 million gallons of water before reconsidering. Occupy Wall Street protests a couple years ago devolved into a rowdy and dirty collection of tarps and tents across from City Hall that officials tolerated for months. The Portland Aerial Tram, with a construction estimate of $15.5 million, cost $57 million to build — a cost overrun greeted with a shrug.

Street cars rattling along new east side lines frequently run empty, as car-less transportation infrastructure hasn’t been matched by riders. The $1.4 billion “Big Pipe” project, a system of giant tunnels and pipes designed to keep untreated sewage from flowing into the Willamette River during rainstorms, is celebrated because it does its job most of the time.

Finally, Portlanders can be hurtfully cavalier about rural problems. Farmers faced with water shortages should simply grow something else, they’ll say. Unemployed loggers and millworkers should get jobs in the tourist or recreational trades. Cattle ranchers with federal land grazing allotments are freeloaders, they’ll argue. Wolves, cougars, spotted owls, ancient trees, butterflies and salmon are cool; people are suspect.

“I think rural people understand Portland better than vice-versa, because they go to Portland more than Portlanders go to rural areas,” says Bruce Weber, director of the Rural Studies program at Oregon State University.

“They do understand some of the things that drive the urban economy, and the decisions made that affect Portland,” Weber says. “I think they correctly believe that most Portland people both don’t understand the rural population or the economy of rural areas, and probably fundamentally don’t care about it.”

• So, Portland, have you met Oregon agriculture? You two might like each other

It’s a big player out there, with about 35,000 farms operating on nearly 17 million acres. It’s the second biggest sector of the state’s economy, with an annual production value of $5.4 billion.

Pretty good at what it does, too. Produces more than 200 different crops and commodities and leads the nation in a delightfully diverse bunch of them: Hazelnuts, Christmas trees, blackberries, boysenberries, black raspberries, storage onions, prunes and plums and four kinds of grass seed. It’s second nationally in pears, hops, red raspberries and blueberries.

You probably know about Oregon wine, especially the internationally acclaimed Pinot Noir, but grapes aren’t even in the top 10 of the state’s most valuable ag products. You know what’s ahead of them? Blue collar crops like hay, wheat, potatoes, cattle and calves. Number one, almost every year, is nursery products — landscaping and ornamental trees, shrubs and flowers.

Worried about “Big Ag?” Some Oregon farms and ranches are big in acreage and revenue, but that’s an outcome of seeking operational efficiency, not some plot to control the food supply.

The average Oregon farm in 2012 was 433 acres, a figure that’s remained stable for the past 25 years. They are overwhelmingly family operations. The state has nearly 1,200 Century Farms or Ranches, meaning they’ve been in continuous operation by the same family for at least 100 years.

We’ll give the last word to Tom Sharp, a cow and calf producer in Harney County, deep in the southeast corner of the state and about as far removed from Portland as you can get. He’s an electrical engineer who worked 33 years in high-tech before retiring from Tektronix in Beaverton and taking up ranching full-time in 2007. Among many other community activities, he spearheaded an effort in which private landowners agreed to conserve range habitat for the greater sage-grouse, which is a candidate for endangered species listing.

Farming and ranching, Sharp says, is “America’s most important and strategic industry,” one that gives us tremendous economic and political advantage compared to most of the world.

Farmers and ranchers are good stewards of the land because their livelihood and lifestyle depend on healthy ecosystems, Sharp says.

“Farmers and ranchers are best positioned to protect our lands, wildlife, water and other natural resources,” he says, “because they are the population closest to it on a daily basis.”

Got it, Portland? Now, why don’t you and Rural Oregon shake hands.

The original article published in Capital Press on 6/2614 can be found here.

Lewiston-Woodville, NC (May 18/TheState) North Carolina’s peanut belt got the kind of rain in 2013 that three decades ago could have wiped out the peanut crop.

The deluge of precipitation was ideal for nurturing devastating diseases for the harvests, but farmers had a defense: Most of them had planted protected peanut varieties that N.C. State University’s Tom Isleib and his staff developed to fight off the rain-fueled fungi, blights and viruses that can be the difference between a farmer making money and taking a loss.

A change in state law aims to make sure plant breeders such as Isleib and his fellow crop scientists get a return on their investment, too. This growing season, any purveyor of a protected variety caught selling unlabeled seed to avoid paying royalties to the plant breeder can be fined up to $10,000. That’s up from the $500 fine violators have risked since the 1940s.

The 20-fold increase reflects the rise of agricultural research as intellectual property, and it highlights the growing importance of royalties as a way to pay for innovations that guarantee a stable food supply.

Isleib — pronounced ISS-lub — believes patenting seeds tends to reduce the genetic diversity of crops by discouraging researchers from trading plant material. But he says it’s no longer feasible to place new varieties — known as cultivars in peanut research — into the public domain.

Without patents, there are no royalties, he said. “And without royalties, this kind of research would dry up.”

With only about 1.2 million acres across the country planted each year, peanuts are a relatively small crop. So private companies don’t have much incentive, Isleib says, to invest the years and the millions of dollars it takes to create new seed varieties, then test, purify and multiply them, and get them into the hands of farmers.

That leaves most of the work to publicly funded labs such as those of the U.S. Department of Agriculture and university programs like the one Isleib runs out of his office and half a greenhouse off Method Road in West Raleigh.

Isleib’s program performs traditional plant breeding. Plant breeders have intentionally crossed different plant lines to emphasize desirable traits since at least the 1800s.

While the state pays his salary, Isleib needs $350,000 to $400,000 a year to pay for his staff, materials, equipment and rental of sandy state-owned test fields like the one in Bertie County where he was planting last week. Grants and royalties paid to NCSU, which holds the rights to the seeds he develops, are his major sources of funding.

Researchers do similar work for every crop in North Carolina that’s grown from seed, including wheat, corn, and soybeans.

“There’s somebody like me for just about everything you eat, except for a few wild mushrooms you might gather up out of the woods, and fish you take out of the ocean,” Isleib said. “The general public doesn’t see the value of that. They rely on it, but they’re not aware of it.”

Peanut research star

In the world of peanut researchers, Isleib is a rock star, even if he’s a stocky, graying one whose voice sounds like a friendly cartoon character’s, the result of a severe stroke a few years ago.

Since 1990, Isleib has taken 17 new peanut seeds to market, including Bailey and Sugg, the ones that saved North Carolina growers last year. This year, Bailey is expected to account for 80 percent of the 85,000 acres of peanuts that will be planted across the state.

So far, N.C. State has received $4.5 million in royalties from Isleib’s work. The university’s Office of Technology Transfer disburses the money, as it does for hundreds of other commercially successful discoveries NCSU has fostered.

Farmers may need peanuts that are more drought-tolerant, or have a bigger, lighter-colored pod. In general, they’re moving toward peanuts with higher oleic-acid content, because it extends shelf life. They may want types with a sweeter flavor.

Once Isleib has the traits he wants in a variety, he raises many generations of it, taking careful measurements of how plants respond to field conditions, pests and pathogens, how they look and how the peanuts taste. He gives the seed a name, usually honoring someone who has worked in peanut research, and when it’s ready, he delivers several hundred pounds of the seed to NC Foundation Seed Producers Foundation, which grows additional generations and checks to make sure it performs as promised.

Finally, it’s packaged, labeled, sold to distributors and offered to farmers, who pay about 85 cents per pound, including a 3-cent-per-pound royalty. Farmers plant from 100 to 130 pounds of peanut seed per acre. North Carolina has about 1,500 peanut growers producing 85,000 acres of peanuts. That’s at least $255,000 a year in peanut seed royalties in this state if farmers buy new seed every year.

Some don’t; they save money by saving seed from one year’s crop to plant the following year, which is allowed under the seed law, although it can result in an uneven crop.

Penalties for brown bagging

Across the state, the N.C. Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services has nine inspectors in its Plant Industry Division whose duties include making sure seed conforms to the N.C. Seed Law, whether it’s sold on a shelf in the garden center at Walmart or moved by the truckload through a farm supply store. If inspectors find a violation, they can stop the sale of the seed and, if the situation warrants, invoke a fine.

Phil Farmer, past president of the N.C. Seedmen’s Association and a retired seed company employee, says distributors brown-bag seed with some frequency, though state officials can’t remember a recent prosecution.

By selling brown-bagged seed, and telling buyers it’s the brand-name product without paying the royalty, distributors gain an unfair price advantage over competitors. Sometimes, the competitors hear about the practice and report it.

If they were only fined $500 for a violation but could make thousands by selling uncertified seed, “They’d just keep on doing it,” Farmer said. “Even if they got caught and had to pay the fine, it was still worth doing.”

In 2012, when the Bailey peanut seed was in high demand and certified supplies of the still-new seed were not yet robust, Daryl Bowman, executive director of Foundation Seed, got a complaint that a distributor was brown-bagging Bailey. He went to the distributor, where he found several thousand pounds of uncertified seed for sale, but determined that the company official who had arranged it didn’t know it was illegal to sell saved seed from a protected cultivar crop.

“It was a matter of ignorance,” Bowman said. The company stopped the practice, paid the royalties it owed NCSU and, at Bowman’s urging, hired a consultant to train employees on the state and federal laws.

Bowman, the Seedman’s Association and state agriculture officials pressed for the change in the law the General Assembly passed last year. Besides the increased fine, it allows the state to revoke a distributor’s license to sell.

Without a meaningful penalty, Farmer said, there would be the temptation to cheat patent-holders out of their share.

“Then you end up killing the goose that laid the golden egg.”

The original article published in Seed Today on 5/20/14 can be found here.

SALEM — A new task force aimed at fleshing out the controversies over genetically modified organisms in Oregon includes members with strongly contrasting points of view.

The goal will not be to develop policy recommendations for the state’s legislature, said Richard Whitman, natural resources policy director for Oregon Gov. John Kitzhaber.

“It’s not a normal task force we set up to develop a consensus,” he said during its first meeting in Portland on April 10.

Because genetic engineering is fraught with deep philosophical divisions, the purpose of the task force is to frame the issue and inform lawmakers, Whitman said.

The forum will allow members to air different perspectives “without the final struggle of trying to convince everybody in the room to go in the same direction,” he said.

The 13 members of the task force, appointed by Kitzhaber, include advocates for and against genetically engineering, as well as non-profit groups, business interests, university professors and a state government official.

The governor promised to convene the task force last year, after the state legislature approved a bill to preempt local governments from regulating GMOs.

The bill was part of a broader legislative packaged of pension and school reforms backed by Kitzhaber.

The task force is expected to draft a report to advise lawmakers about potential conflicts between GMOs and conventional and organic crops.

The first meeting was co-convened by Dan Arp, dean of OSU’s School of Agriculture, and Jennifer Allen, director of Portland State University’s Institute for Sustainable Solutions.

It’s rare to have people on different sides of the issue in the same room together, said Steve Strauss, an Oregon State University professor who studies biotechnology in forestry.

However, it remains to be seen how much they can illuminate the GMO controversy, given the large amount of attention the topic has received, he said.

“I’m concerned we may not develop new things that are tangible,” Strauss said. “I’m worried whether we’ll be able to do something consequential. I hope so.”

Frank Morton, who farms near Philomath, Ore., said he wants the task force to better define some of the language that gets thrown around in the debate.

A leading example is how cross-pollination is characterized. Organic growers view it as “contamination” while GMO proponents call it “adventitious presence,” Morton said.

“My question for people in this room is, when does one turn into the other?” he said.

The Northwest Food Processors Association wants to ensure the task force doesn’t lose sight of broader issues beyond Oregon’s borders, said Connie Kirby, vice president of scientific and technical affairs for the group.

Labeling of foods with GMO ingredients would force companies to use different packages than in other states, for example, she said.

“We don’t want to constrain interstate commerce or intrastate commerce as well ,” Kirby said.

Members of the task force are:

Barry Bushue — A farmer from Boring, Ore., and president of the Oregon Farm Bureau.

Katy Coba — Director of the Oregon Department of Agriculture.

Connie Kirby — Vice president of scientific and technical affairs at the Northwest Food Processors Association.

Greg Loberg — Manager of the West Coast Beet Seed Co. and board member of the Oregon Seed Trade Association.

Ivan Maluski — Director of the Friends of Family Farmers, a group that opposed GMOs.

Frank Morton — An organic seed grower from Philomath, Ore.

Jim Myers — Vegetable breeding and genetics professor at Oregon State University.

Marty Myers — General manager of Threemile Canyon Farms.

Paulette Pyle — Director of grassroots at Oregonians for Food and Shelter, a group that supports genetic engineering.

Chris Schreiner — Executive director of Oregon Tilth, an organic certifying agency.

Lisa Sedlar — CEO of Green Zebra Grocery.

Steve Strauss — A professor of forestry at Oregon State University who ran its biotechnology outreach program.

Sam Tannahill — Director of viticulture and winemaking at A to Z Wineworks.

Click here for the original article at Capital Press.