A History of Weed Science in the United States
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A History of Weed Science in the United States
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A History of Weed Science in the United States Robert L. Zimdahl
AMSTERDAM • BOSTON • HEIDELBERG • LONDON • NEW YORK • OXFORD PARIS • SAN DIEGO • SAN FRANCISCO • SINGAPORE • SYDNEY • TOKYO
Elsevier 32 Jamestown Road London NW1 7BY 30 Corporate Drive, Suite 400, Burlington, MA 01803, USA First edition 2010 Copyright © 2010 Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Details on how to seek permission, further information about the Publisher’s permissions policies and our arrangement with organizations such as the Copyright Clearance Center and the Copyright Licensing Agency, can be found at our website: www.elsevier.com/permissions This book and the individual contributions contained in it are protected under copyright by the Publisher (other than as may be noted herein). Notices Knowledge and best practice in this field are constantly changing. As new research and experience broaden our understanding, changes in research methods, professional practices, or medical treatment may become necessary. Practitioners and researchers must always rely on their own experience and knowledge in evaluating and using any information, methods, compounds, or experiments described herein. In using such information or methods they should be mindful of their own safety and the safety of others, including parties for whom they have a professional responsibility. To the fullest extent of the law, neither the Publisher nor the authors, contributors, or editors, assume any liability for any injury and/or damage to persons or property as a matter of products liability, negligence or otherwise, or from any use or operation of any methods, products, instructions, or ideas contained in the material herein. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A catalog record for this book is available from the Library of Congress ISBN: 978-0-12-381495-1 For information on all Elsevier publications visit our website at elsevierdirect.com Typeset by MPS Limited, a Macmillan Company, Chennai, India www.macmillansolutions.com This book has been manufactured using Print On Demand technology. Each copy is produced to order and is limited to black ink. The online version of this book will show colour figures where appropriate.
Contents
Acknowledgments Preface
vii ix
1
Why write a history?
1
2
The development of entomology and plant pathology and their societies in comparison to weed science Entomology Plant pathology
11 11 21
3
Beginning the study of weeds A brief story of agriculture The beginning of the study of weeds
29 29 33
4
The founders Henry Luke Bolley Wilfred W. Robbins Alden Springer Crafts Charles J. Willard James W. Zahnley Thomas K. Pavlychenko Erhardt P. (Dutch) Sylwester Robert Henderson Beatty Marion W. Parker William B. Ennis, Jr. Warren Cleaton Shaw Francis Leonard Timmons Robert D. Sweet Oliver Andrew Leonard Clarence I. Seeley George Frederick Warren III Kenneth P. Buchholtz Ellery Louis Knake Fred W. Slife Boysie Eugene Day Leroy George Holm William R. Furtick
37 37 39 40 42 42 42 43 43 45 46 46 49 50 51 51 52 53 53 54 55 56 57
vi
Contents
Donald E. Davis Chester Gray McWhorter Fanny Fern Davis
57 58 59
5 Creation and development of university weed science programs
61
6 Development of herbicides after 1945 2,4-D, the phenoxyacetic acids, and the beginning of rational herbicide development Amino triazole 2,4,5-T The substituted urea herbicides The triazine herbicides The dinitroanilines Paraquat and diquat Monsanto herbicides and the roundup story The sulfonylurea herbicides The imidazolinone herbicides
79 89 96 97 99 99 101 101 103 106 108
7 Creation and development of weed societies The Western Society of Weed Science The North Central Weed Science Society The Northeastern Weed Science Society The Southern Weed Science Society Canadian Weed Conferences The Weed Science Society of America Concluding comments Presidential comments Writing history The presidents What the presidents said
115 119 122 126 129 130 130 136 138 138 139 141
8
Weed science and changes in agricultural practice
165
9
Weed science and the agrochemical industry
177
The consequences of weed science’s pattern of development Herbicide resistance Biotechnology Sustainability Organic agriculture Ethics
189 198 199 202 203 205
10
Acknowledgments
This project has consumed many hours over 2 years. It has been interesting and challenging and I have learned a great deal. Much of what I have learned has been due to the help and counsel received from others. Without their help, what follows would be diminished and incomplete. Dr. Thomas O. Holtzer, Head of the Department of Bioagricultural Sciences and Pest Management at Colorado State University, has supported me with office space, as a reviewer, and with administrative assistance. Frequent conversations have been invaluable. Dr. James W. Boyd, Professor Emeritus of Philosophy, Colorado State University, has been a long-time friend whose advice and counsel have been essential to my intellectual development. Dr. M.D.K. Owen, Professor of Agronomy, Iowa State University and Ms. Tanya Zanish-Belcher, Chief of the Archival Section of Parks Library at Iowa State University, provided an opportunity for several days of reading in the archives of the four regional societies and the Weed Science Society of America stored in Parks Library at Iowa State University. Dr. Henry Cross, Professor Emeritus of Psychology, Colorado State University; Dr. Cynthia S. Brown, Associate Professor of Bioagricultural Sciences and Pest Management, Colorado State University; Dr. Sue Ellen M. Charlton, Professor of Political Science, Colorado State University; Dr. Scott J. Nissen, Professor of Bioagricultural Sciences, Colorado State University; Dr. Edward E. Schweizer, retired USDA/ARS research scientist; Dr. Arnold P. Appleby, Professor Emeritus of Weed Science, Oregon State University; Dr. Douglas L. Murray, Professor of Sociology, Colorado State University; and Dr. James D. Anderson, Chair, Weed Science Society of America Publications Committee and research scientist, USDA/ARS Weed Science Laboratory, Fargo, ND; and several anonymous reviewers from the Weed Science Society of America who provided helpful comments on portions of the manuscript. When I began the research for the manuscript, I solicited responses to a few questions from several retired weed scientists. I thank each of them for their assistance. Perhaps of greatest importance have been the constant understanding, editorial assistance, and support from my wife Pam.
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Preface
This historical study is the result of a career in weed science, a sub-discipline of agriculture. I hope it will be a story that will be read and thought about, affecting the future of weed science. It is important that weed scientists know the history of their discipline and think about where they came from, what they have accomplished, and how to create their future. This history must begin with the life of one mind (mine) that worked in weed science for more than 40 years but ended elsewhere. While I must begin with and cannot avoid the influence of my journey, this history of weed science cannot and should not end there. Biography alone is not history. My story is part of this historical study but only a small part. I am aware that what is reported herein may have happened otherwise. Human knowledge, including history, is neither objective nor subjective. It is personal and a result of participation in life (Lukacs, 2009). After completing my doctoral degree at Oregon State University in 1968, I arrived in Fort Collins, Colorado, to begin a new life as an Assistant Professor of Botany and Plant Pathology at Colorado State University, with a specific assignment in weed science. The job required teaching a class—the Biology and Control of Weeds—doing research on the soil degradation of herbicides, and developing a program on weed control in agronomic crops. It was a long desired opportunity and I knew I was ready to take full advantage of it. The beginning of my career at Colorado State University in 1968 coincided with some major world events. The North Vietnamese TET Offensive began on January 31, 1968 and began to turn American public opinion against the Vietnam War. Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated on April 4, Robert F. Kennedy was assassinated on June 5. The Soviet Union invaded and occupied Czechoslovakia in August. During the summer U.S. cities burned and students revolted. The Democratic party’s August convention in Chicago nominated Hubert Humphrey as its Presidential candidate, as the city collapsed in violence with street demonstrations and fighting. Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin walked on the moon on July 20. These events, while very important, didn’t directly affect me, my family, or my new career. Then the stories and facts about the use of the herbicide 2,4,5-T during the Vietnam War intervened. My career’s supports, created so carefully, began to loosen. I began to doubt if what I knew to be the foundational facts and the supporting myths of my science were adequate. It was, in a very real way for me, a crisis of faith; faith in what I had learned and in science, especially in my science—weed science.
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In 1971, I presented a volunteer paper, “Human Experiments in Teratogenicity,” in the ecology section of the Weed Science Society of America meeting in Dallas, Texas. The major objective of the paper was to question the role weed scientists played and ought to play in an increasingly polluted world. I was troubled and asked my colleagues to help me think about under what conditions it was possible to say that any herbicide is so necessary to our food production system that any risk of human harm is acceptable. The paper suggested herbicides were means to the desirable end of food production. I proposed that those who work with herbicides must ask and answer questions about whether the means and ends were compatible. The paper argued that members of society must feel they are participants in determining the way things are ordered. They must think they have, and actually have, the power to choose. To make the sense of choosing and participation real, people must also have the evidence required to judge possible alternatives. People must also have, beyond the evidence, a sense of general purpose that serves as a context into which particular judgments can be fitted. The room was partially full for my paper. A group of colleagues spoke to me after the paper to tell me how wrong I was. The essence of the rather unpleasant encounter was that they wanted to know why I was so eager to bite the hand that fed me and much of the rest of the world. Their comments assured me that something was wrong but it was something that was wrong with me and my thinking. In my colleagues’ view, there was nothing important wrong with agriculture, weed science, or with herbicides. They believed that weed scientists should continue the scientifically responsible quest for wise use of federally approved herbicides. I knew something was wrong but wasn’t able to define it well, and I was beginning to doubt that the unquestioned development of herbicides for agriculture was a priori good. The philosophical supports of my elegant, ordered, satisfying, professional scientific life, which had not been created as carefully as the scientific foundation, began to crumble after that paper. In a paper published in the Bulletin of the Entomological Society of America (Zimdahl, 1972), I elaborated the previous oral presentation and continued my quest not only to decide what I thought but also to see if any weed scientists cared. The issues didn’t go away. I continued to read and think and tried to learn more about the issues when I wasn’t doing the teaching and research my job required. A second paper published in the same journal (Zimdahl, 1978) argued that special knowledge and highly trained minds produce their own limitations. They tend to create an inability to accept views from outside the discipline, usually owing to a deep preoccupation with the discipline’s methods, findings, and conclusions. For example, Holm (1978) asked weed scientists if they knew of anyone on their street, or down their road, “who can document an illness, acute or chronic, or a death, from an agricultural chemical used according to label directions.” The answer he expected to his rhetorical question was, “No.” He went on to state that “if there is no appeal to reason, it has become an emotional issue, and our tactics will have been wrong.” I was
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compelled to ask if Holm, a man whom all weed scientists respected, if not held in awe, was preoccupied with the discipline’s own conclusions or was he right in all respects and, was I, a young weed scientist, just not able to see what others saw so clearly. After doing weed science research and teaching for 20 years and making a further attempt to clarify my thoughts (Zimdahl, 1991) it was time to reflect on what had and had not been learned and plan my future. This led to work in the area of the values and ethics of agriculture, particularly those of weed science, which required examining a whole new area of learning. Exploring the ethical foundation of the science that had defined my professional life was what I decided to do. I developed and taught my university’s first course on agricultural ethics, published a few journal articles, and a book—Agriculture’s Ethical Horizon (Zimdahl, 2006). However, I was still not satisfied that I had explored weed science adequately. Examination of its philosophical foundation was essential, but further exploration of how and why the science developed as it did was required. A study of its history was required. The result is this book. It has been a difficult and rewarding challenge. My quest to answer the essential question of whether my weed science colleagues and I were preoccupied with our discipline’s conclusions has led to an exploration of the discipline’s conclusions, how they were derived, and their supporting reasons. Understanding the past and knowing where we came from is essential to interpretation of the present and exploration of routes to the future. It is my intent to present the history of weed science, primarily in the United States, in its own terms. How I evaluate that history, however, reflects my judgments based on years of thought and study. I have tried to think like others and have listened to the stories of many concerning the development of weed science. It is my intent to carry out the historian’s task as described by Gilderhus (1992, p. 36): “to elucidate the past, not merely to condemn it.” It is also important that one who attempts to write history recognize that a version of W. Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle is involved (Gaddis, 2002, p. 29). Heisenberg proposed that one could never know the precise location and speed of a particle because the act of observation affected what was observed. Gaddis proposed that the act of observing the past “alters what is being observed.” This means “that objectivity as a consequence is difficult, and therefore, truth is often personal and a result of participation in life.”
References Gaddis, J.L., 2002. The Landscape of History—How Historians Map the Past. Oxford University Press, Oxford, UK, 192 pp. Gilderhus, M.T., 1992. History and Historians—A Historiographical Introduction, second ed. Prentice Hall, Englewood Cliffs, NJ, 132 pp. Holm, L., 1978. Some characteristics of weed problems in two worlds. Proc. Western Soc. Weed Sci. 31, 3–12.
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Lukacs, J., 2009. Putting man before Descartes. Am. Schol. 78 (1), 18–29. Zimdahl, R.L., 1972. Pesticides—A value question. Bull. Entomol. Soc. Am. June, 109–110. Zimdahl, R.L., 1978. The pesticide paradigm. Bull. Entomol. Soc. Am. 24, 357–360. Zimdahl, R.L., 1991. Weed Science—A Plea for Thought. USDA/CSRS, Washington, DC, 34 pp. Zimdahl, R.L., 2006. Agriculture’s Ethical Horizon. Academic Press, San Diego, CA, 235 pp.
1 Why write a history? What we, or at any rate what I refer to confidently as memory—meaning a moment, a scene, a fact that has been subjected to a fixative and thereby rescued from oblivion is really a form of storytelling that goes on continually in the mind and often changes with the telling. Too many conflicting emotional interests are involved for life ever to be wholly acceptable, and possibly it is the work of the storyteller to rearrange things so that they conform to this end. In any case, in talking about the past we lie with every breath we draw. Maxwell (1980)
The introduction to Wright’s (2004, pp. 1, 2) A Short History of Progress relates a story about the French Post-Impressionist artist Paul Gauguin (1848–1903). In the 1890s, Gauguin left Paris for Tahiti. In 1897, a mail steamer brought the news that his favorite child, his daughter, Aline, had died from pneumonia. After months of depression he produced his masterpiece, the title of which is an appropriate beginning and an answer to the question—Why write a history? The work’s French title is—D’Où Venons Nous? Que Sommes Nous? Où Allons Nous? The English translation is: Where Do We Come From? What Are We? Where Are We Going? Gauguin’s intent, in the post-impressionist tradition, was to use his art to produce an emotional experience dependent on personal impression. My goal is not to ask existential questions, as Gauguin did, but to use his questions as a guide to an exploration of the development of weed science in the United States. The questions Gauguin asked seem to have easy answers. If one regards them as personal questions, it is easy to assume that all people with reasonable intelligence know where they came from, where they are, and quite a bit about their career and life destination. If Gauguin’s questions are larger, societal questions then the answers are not as easy or obvious. When I ask Gauguin’s questions about my discipline—weed science, they become difficult and the answers are elusive and perhaps absent. Some of the difficulty is explained by the words of Knüsli (1970), a chemist who was intimately involved in herbicide development with J. R. Geigy S. A. in Basle, Switzerland: Technology does not like historical reflections. The technological world asks for results and for progress. Achievement is important not, in general, the
2
A History of Weed Science in the United States
road that leads to achievement. What was new yesterday is routine today, and what is described as revolutionary today may be considered antiquated tomorrow. Our age is a daily challenge, beloved or hated, depending on where we stand.
Knüsli’s point is similar to that made by Pollan (2008, p. 46) who wrote about food 38 years later. Pollan notes that few scientists “ever look back to see if they or their paradigms might have gone astray.” As Knüsli said, achievement is important. Pollan, sounding a lot like Kuhn’s (1970, p. 35) description of normal science as puzzle solving, says that scientists are trained “to keep moving forward, doing yet more science to add to the increments of our knowledge, patching up and preserving whatever of the current consensus can be preserved until the next big idea comes along.” Or in Kuhn’s terms, until a new paradigm appears. Weed science has been strongly influenced by technology developed by supporting industries, employed in research by weed scientists, and, ultimately, used by farmers. Weed scientists similar to scientists in many technological disciplines have not sought historical reflection. They have focused on results and progress. They have been problem solvers whose solutions have evolved as rapidly as have the new weed problems to be solved. In a more formal sense, weed scientists have been adherents of the instrumental ideology of modern science. That is an analysis of their work and their orientation reveals the strong emphasis on practical, useful knowledge—on know-how (Dear, 2005). The opposite and frequently complementary orientation that has been missing from weed science is an emphasis on contemplative knowledge, which one might call “knowing why.” Weeds and their control are one of agriculture’s enduring problems. Even if the claim that more human labor is expended to weed crops than for any other human activity is not true, it is indisputable that a great deal of human labor is expended to weed crops (see Holm, 1971). Modern agriculture in the world’s developed nations has addressed but not eliminated most weed problems through extensive use of herbicides and the more recent development of herbicide resistant crops through genetic modification. These methods while undeniably successful for their intended purpose also have created manifold environmental, non-target species and human health problems. At the same time it is true, as Holm (1978) claimed, that “the western world has acquired so much wisdom and power over nature … that we squabble about it—while two thirds of the world are (sic) still screaming to get it.” Farmers in the world’s developing nations use some herbicides but newer herbicides and the necessary application technology are often unavailable or too expensive. Weeds are always present in these farmer’s fields and the available, affordable control methods are mechanical weeding, usually with animal power, or by hand, and most of the labor is provided by women (see Chapter VIII). Neither Holm’s (1971) hypothesis that “more energy is expended for the weeding man’s crops than for any other single human task,” nor the corollary hypothesis that women do most of
Why write a history?
3
the world’s weeding has been verified. Both are similar to many other agricultural hypotheses. They are not debated; they are accepted. There is no analytical/interpretive history of weed science that identifies and explores its fundamental hypotheses and their consequences. Several useful chronologies of the creation and development of U.S. weed science societies (see Chapter VII) are available. However, none of these address the fundamental hypotheses of weed science that must be understood in their historical context, as an essential contribution to the desired goal of developing sustainable, environmentally, socially, and politically acceptable weed management methods for the world. A plausible reason for this is that weed science, among the agricultural sciences, is young. The Weed Society of America first met in New York City in 1956. The name was changed to the Weed Science Society of America in 1967 (Appleby, 2005). Volume 1 of the journal Weeds (changed to Weed Science in 1968), with nine articles, was published in October 1951. R. D. Sweet of Cornell University was the editor. That issue included 1,384 citations of publications on weeds that appeared from January to June 1951: Clearly, weed work had begun before the journal or society began. The citations compiled by the Division of Weed Investigations of the Agricultural Research Service of the U.S. Department of Agriculture show that weed work was underway in many places. The lead article in the first issue (Willard, 1951) noted that there were only “three full time weed men in 1934 and not too many part time ones.” However, by late 1951, forty-six State Agricultural Experiment stations had active weed research projects. A second reason for the lack of an analytical history of weed science may reflect the view among practitioners of progressive, applied sciences such as weed science that “history is a fiction that has little more relation to our lives than a story or novel (Fussell, 1945).” If one knows or is quite certain that the weed management methods now available and those on the horizon are the best methods. It is neither logical nor necessary to study or explore the reasons (the history) for the creation of those methods and those who developed them because it is incredible to think that there is any intention of returning to them (Fussell, 1945). “History,” as Henry Ford told us, “is more or less bunk” (quoted in the Chicago Tribune, May 25, 1916). It is tradition. We don’t want tradition. We want to live in the present and the only history that is worth a tinker’s damn is the history we make today. The British historian A. J. P. Taylor said, “The only lesson of history is that there are no lessons of history” (Murphy, 2007, p. 13).1 If Ford and Taylor are correct, then it is reasonable to ask, why study history? It seems to be not just unnecessary; it is a waste of time. There is another view of history that is best expressed in a metaphor. Weed science is young among the sciences and has changed so rapidly in its young life that weed scientists have had a hard time just keeping up. The speed of change resembles the view one has when riding on a fast train. If one looks out 1
This latter quote is attributed to an anonymous source in the 1970 International Thesaurus of Quotations, p. 417.
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the window at the edge of the track or at a nearby field or town, everything goes by so fast that it is nearly impossible to focus on anything except the blur of passage. A glimpse is all you get and that glimpse is gone almost as soon as it appears. It is similar to time where the present is gone as soon as it arrives. It is now history and the next moment passes as quickly. The present, the view of close things from the train window, is gone as soon as it arrives. All we have that we can retain is the thought of what we saw—but it is now past, it is history. We anticipate what may come into view—the future, but it has not appeared and when it does it is immediately gone. However, when one looks out the train window at the horizon, one is compelled to take a distant view and things become clearer and remain visible longer. They can be studied and thought about as they pass because they stay in the field of vision and in one’s mind longer. It is the desirable clarity of the long view that history gives us and that this book will try to explore. It is not uncommon to hear that history is just one damn thing after another, but if we don’t pay attention to what has happened we may just keep solving the same problems and addressing the same issues over and over. Historical study, when it is done well, can be a useful chronology of what has happened, even though it is often told by the winners, by those who have endured. Others view it as a series of stories about the past, some apparently interesting, others seemingly trivial. In addition, “more and more, history has become a competition between and among narratives, self-consciously disdainful of what we used to think of as fact” (Peretz, 2009). Gilderhus (1992, p. 48) offers three schemes historians have used to interpret the past, and thus “mute their sense of vulnerability in facing the unknown by seeking to determine recurring tendencies in the past.” The first is to assume that history is cyclical, a “motion in circles, repeating endlessly over and over again.” The second or providential view is that history is a story of progress moving through time in a linear fashion from a beginning to a middle and then to an end. The third or progressive view of history is also one of linear progress through time from a beginning to an end. The two differ in that the motive force in the second is some form of divine guidance, whereas in the third it is metaphysical or natural forces that impel progress. I expect that many weed scientists could find evidence of cyclical trends. Methods of weed control appear and fade only to appear again in a new system of weed management. Should we till soil or adopt no-till methods? Mulching and companion cropping are old methods now re-appearing in organic systems of crop production. The use of electricity and solar energy for weed control made a brief appearance and may re-appear with advances in technology. However, it is more likely that weed scientists regard their science as one characterized by linear progress through time guided by scientific advances and natural forces. Providential forces may be important to some but I cannot judge their ultimate importance. It seems clear that weed science has made enormous changes in weed management methods during its short existence. The pattern has been linear and progressive.
Why write a history?
5
A problem anyone who attempts to interpret the past must face is what Harrison (1987) and Butterfield (1959) have called the Whig interpretation of history. Briefly, the Whig interpretation makes a virtue of hindsight and discards from the past things one thinks make no contribution to the present. The sin is to reconstruct the past in the context of today. The Whig historian studies the past with reference to the present and judges the past by the norms and standards of the present. The past is studied for the sake of the present (Butterfield, 1959, p. 24). The Whig fails to appreciate that “understanding the past precedes rather than follows historical inquiry” (Harrison, 1987). The Whig thus produces a history that converges conveniently on the present. The anti-Whig or Prig interpretation of history makes a virtue of ignorance by discarding from the present, things that the interpreter thinks contribute nothing to the past (Harrison, 1987). The Prig’s sin is to be superior about the purpose of history and therefore unscientific. Good history is an interpretive study of past events. It is objective in that it attempts to present the many sides of past events (Viney and King, 2003, p. 6), even those with which the writer may disagree. History is not the study of origins, it is in Butterfield’s (1959, p. 47) view an “analysis of all the mediations by which the past was turned in to the present. It is, when done well, an analysis that leads us toward that which we never would have inferred” (Butterfield, 1959, p. 72) and that analysis must be constantly revisited and reinterpreted. All good histories use remnants of the past to construct a story that employs statements of probability not certainty, which are always subject to the limitations of a point of view (Gilderhus, 1992, p. 81). A good history reconstructs and interprets the past. It is objective, not subjective, and it describes as accurately as the available information allows what happened, where it happened, and who was involved. The answers may not be obvious but these are relatively easy questions to answer. Constructing history, however, is plagued by the common “preposterous fallacy” that, especially with regard to the difficult questions, the why questions, there is a hard core of historical facts, similar to scientific facts, “existing objectively and independently of the interpretation of the historian” (Carr, 1961, p. 10). A good history attempts to ask and answer the more difficult question of why things happened as they did. It attempts to address Gauguin’s questions: Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we going? These are not simple questions and the answers cannot be supported by non-existent historical facts. They demand exploration of reasons and truth about past events. Asking why something happened involves considering how anyone knows what is true.2 The criteria by which one assesses the truth of any claim are personal and societal. If one’s best friend says that X is so, one is inclined to accept the claim because a best friend made it. The same or a similar claim made by another is often questioned. How do we make such distinctions? How 2 The primary source for this brief explication of how one knows what is true is pp. 15–18 in Viney, W., King, D. B., 2003. A History of Psychology: Ideas and Context, third ed. Allyn and Bacon, Boston, MA.
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do we know what is true about an historical or personal claim? What criteria do we humans use? When we are young it is common to say—“My Father or Mother says … .” And that is it! Discussion ends and what follows is accepted as valid. It is true because the primary authority in life has said it. An appeal to authority is a common way to verify the truth of any claim. The authority can be a religious institution, a book, a secular institution (the university, the government), the legal system (It is the law!), a teacher, or an enduring parental truth. Appeals to authority are common as we search for validation of acts or beliefs. They are common in the scientific literature where authorities in the form of the opinions of others or citation of supporting data are used to reinforce a result or conclusion. In science, empirical claims to truth are frequent. Empiricism is a theory of knowledge in which experience plays a major role. One knows what is true based on sensory experience of the world. Knowledge is based on facts that have been revealed by observation and direct experience of the world. Much of science is based on an empirical approach where one studies the world through experiments. Science also employs the philosophical approach known as pragmatism. The pragmatist recognizes that the world is changing and the nature of truth changes as the world changes. Concepts are altered to be responsive to new discoveries and therefore some concepts must be abandoned. The pragmatist tests validity by practical results. If something works, it is useful and produces productive work or results that make a real contribution to the world. If work is not useful, if it does not lead to positive change, it does not pass the pragmatic test. Finally, the most rigorous route to truth is rationalism or a search based on reason. It is the approach this book will strive to use as it strives to avoid the Whig or Prig interpretation of the past. Sensory, empirical information alone is not adequate as the sole source of truth. Rationalism is based on a priori reason and innate ideas. The rationalist is open-minded and reflective, more likely to question and seek justification than assent to an argument. The rationalist strives to listen to many sides without prior judgment, is capable of keeping different arguments in play rather than using them to divide and exclude, and is desirous of persuading others by careful reasoning rather than reducing them to silence by refuting their ideas. Having tried to define the approach to this book, it is time to describe what follows. Chapter II is a brief exploration of the development of two related plant protection disciplines: entomology and plant pathology. Each has a much longer story than weed science and more notable personalities who contributed to each science’s development. In a sense, these disciplines might serve as a model for the future development of weed science. Complete studies of their development and history are available and will be cited. The study of weeds began later than the study of insects or plant diseases, although the attempts to control weeds probably began almost simultaneously with the practice of cultivated agriculture. The early phases of weed control are presented in Chapter III together with a few important weed control methods.
Why write a history?
7
Chapter IV presents brief biographies of several of the men who began weed science. The founders were all men and not all were affiliated with a land grant university. These men were also instrumental in creating the four regional U.S. weed societies and the national weed science society. In Chapter V we find that most of the same men also created and developed the beginnings of university weed science research and teaching programs that today exist in all land grant institutions with colleges of agriculture. Chapter VI relates the development of herbicides before and especially after World War II. Unfortunately, several of the stories of who was involved and how the process worked have not been recorded and cannot be included. The initial work was done on the phenoxy acid herbicides but others quickly followed. All were created in industrial laboratories, although much of the development and testing was done by university researchers. Chapter VII relates the history of weed science’s three regional societies and the national weed science society. The histories that have been written are good resources that adequately cover what happened, where it occurred, and who was involved. They do not address two important issues that this book will explore: why things occurred as they did and what the underlying scientific or moral foundation for action may have been. In short, the available studies are not interpretive of the events reported; they do not ask why. Almost by definition, the answers to “Why?” questions are complex and debatable because so many factors impinge on them. Weed science decisions have been affected by the state of scientific knowledge, economic realities, political considerations, and societal attitudes toward agricultural technology. Chapter VIII draws heavily on available historical studies to demonstrate the close relationship that has existed since weed science began in the early 1950s between university research programs and the agricultural chemical industry. This relationship has not been unique to weed science among the plant protection disciplines. Chapter VIII presents the positive and negative effects of the association on weed science. It also briefly explores the U.S. implications of Holm’s (1971) hypothesis that women do much of the weeding of the world’s crops. Chapter IX explores the positive and negative consequences of the pattern of development of weed science with particular emphasis on the global role of weed science in developed and developing countries. Chapter X continues the discussion of the influence of where we have come from and where we are. It moves on to discuss if it is appropriate, if not essential, to ask where are we going and how close the future we desire or fear may be? Where we are going is not certain and this chapter attempts to elucidate some of the factors that will affect our destination. Weed science’s destination is not certain and the chapter attempts to elucidate some of the factors that will affect our destination. These include the role and influence of topics discussed earlier, including herbicide resistance, biotechnology, sustainability, and organic agriculture. Chapter X concludes with a brief discussion of how the actions of weed scientists have been affected by personal ethical standards and,
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one must assume, an unwritten professional code of ethics. A professional code of ethics is sometimes written but often is merely implicit. In weed science, it has been implicit. The traditional view of a profession is that it is composed of individuals, each of whom has a high degree of autonomy (see Mannning and Stroud, 2007, p. 84). Each is personally responsible for decisions because he or she is not expected to follow orders from others. Professional weed scientists often regard themselves as being dedicated to the common good of humanity. They think of themselves as serving all because they are intimate, perhaps essential, participants in ensuring the production of abundant, high quality food. That may be the worthy norm accepted by all as the weed scientist’s guiding moral standard. It is a worthy but not a carefully articulated or written code of ethical conduct. A professional code of ethics is, in its simplest form, a summary of the practitioners’ shared views of acceptable professional standards. The code provides a standard for teaching and research and guides the actions of those in the profession when difficult situations must be addressed (Mannning and Stroud, 2007, p. 85). In short, the code of ethics tells all what actions are right and what are wrong. Moreover, the code must be defended within the discipline and to the public. The existence of a written code of ethics is a sign of a mature discipline. Finally, I hope that this history will encourage others to write on what Peretz (2009) calls a “competition between and among narratives.” The competing narratives will guide weed scientists to a more accurate interpretation of their history. It is a good story worthy of several competing and complementary views.
References Appleby, A.P., 2005. Weed Science Society of America—Origin and Evolution—The First 50 Years. Weed Science Society of America, Lawrence, KS, 63 pp. Butterfield, H., 1959. The Whig Interpretation of History. G. Bell and Sons, Ltd, London, UK, 132 pp. Carr, E.H., 1961. What Is History? A.A. Knopf, New York, NY, 209 pp. Dear, P., 2005. What is the history of science the history of? Early roots of the ideology of modern science. Isis 96, 390–406. Fussell, G.E., 1945. History and agricultural science. Agric. History 19, 126–127. Gilderhus, M.T., 1992. History and Historians—A Historiographical Introduction, second ed. Prentice Hall, Englewood Cliffs, NJ, 132 pp. Harrison, E., 1987. Whigs, prigs and historians of science. Nature 329, 213–214. Holm, L., 1971. The role of weeds in human affairs. Weed Sci. 19, 485–490. Holm, L., 1978. Some characteristics of weed problems in two worlds. Proc. Western Soc. Weed Sci. 31, 3–12. Knüsli, E., 1970. History of the development of triazine herbicides. In: Gunther, F.A., Gunther, J.D. (Eds.), The Triazine Herbicides. Residue Reviews 32, 1–9. Kuhn, T.S., 1970. The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, second ed. University of Chicago Press, Chicago, IL, 210 pp.
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Mannning, R.C., Stroud, S.R., 2007. A Practical Guide to Ethics—Living and Leading with Integrity. Westview Press, Boulder, CO. Maxwell, W., 1980. So Long, See You Tomorrow. A.A. Knopf, New York, NY, p. 27. Murphy, C., 2007. Are We Rome? The Fall of an Empire and the Fate of America. Houghton Mifflin Co, Boston, MA, 262 pp. Peretz, M., 2009. Narrative dissonance. The New Republic July 1, 30–32. Pollan, M., 2008. In Defense of Food. Penguin Press, Boston, MA, 244 pp. Viney, W., King, D.B., 2003. A History of Psychology: Ideas and Context, third ed. Allyn and Bacon, Boston, MA, 495 pp. Willard, C.J., 1951. Where do we go from here? Weeds 1, 9–12. Wright, R., 2004. A Short History of Progress. Carroll & Graf Publishers, New York, NY, 211 pp.
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2 The development of entomology and plant pathology and their societies in comparison to weed science Entomology Entomology has a 200 year historical record. It is a discipline older than plant pathology and both are much older than weed science. Essig (1931) in his History of Entomology emphasized the accomplishments of more than 110 notable entomologists who had done significant research on insects, primarily in the nineteenth century. Of the 110 entomologists Essig (1931) noted, 19 were born in the eighteenth and 91 in the nineteenth century. Fifty-two percent (57) were born in 15 different countries and did much of their work outside the United States. Eighteen, identified as significant, lived into the twentieth century. It is worthy of note that only one entomologist in Essig’s book was female. She is Anna B. Comstock (1854–1930), the wife of John H. Comstock (1849–1931), who in 1882 founded the first Department of Entomology in the United States at Cornell University. The first university entomology course began in 1882 at the University of California. Courses in economic entomology were among the early offerings at land-grant colleges established under the 1862 Morrill Act. The first in 1867 was taught by A. J. Cook at Michigan Agricultural College. Other pioneer teachers of entomology were T. J. Burrill in 1868 in Illinois, C. V. Riley in 1870 in Kansas. Hermann Hagen offered instruction in entomology at Harvard in 1873. J. H. Comstock, Riley’s first student, began teaching entomology at Cornell in the same year. C. H. Fernald first taught entomology at the Maine Agricultural College in 1872 and in 1886 founded the department of entomology at Massachusetts Agricultural College. B. F. Mudge followed C. V. Riley in Kansas in 1871 (names and dates are from Perkins, 1982, p. 246). In the eighteenth century, entomologists systematized their science and began to describe its subjects (insects) (Smith et al., 1973, p. 96). The creators of entomological science were primarily members of scientific academies and secondarily affiliated with a university. The scientific academy was frequently the origin of a problem to be studied and where the results were sent for publication. Entomology in the eighteenth century was in the initial descriptive phase that many sciences went through before they became quantitative and theoretical. During this time, entomology gradually changed from being
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a branch of zoology and natural history to a pest management oriented discipline primarily within agriculture. The eighteenth century is generally regarded as a revolutionary agricultural time (Jones, 1973). New crops and cropping systems with new plowing techniques, and new planting and cultivating equipment were developed. Agricultural science and entomologists were involved in these changes. Insecticides were used but were a minor part of entomological science, which was primarily descriptive. Early insecticides were botanicals such as pyrethrum, derris, quassia, and tobacco leaf infusions (Jones, 1973). Arsenic was used as a seed treatment but concerns about its human toxicity led to it being banned in France in 1786 (Jones, 1973), though its use continued in many other places for a variety of pest control efforts. By 1918, many U.S. land-grant colleges offered majors in entomology and many continue to do so, although not all have a department of entomology. The August 2008 mailing list for the Council of Entomology Department Administrators (CEDA) lists twenty-nine departments of entomology in U.S. universities and eighteen universities where entomology has been combined with other disciplines—four with plant pathology. The CEDA list does not include a department in which entomology is a primary concern in three states (Alaska, Nevada, and New Hampshire). Entomology’s history stands in sharp contrast to the history of weed science, a discipline in which the founders completed their graduate study in the early part of the twentieth century but not in weed science, which did not exist then. Many of the founders of entomology identified by Essig (1931) were amateurs who had little and often no formal education but were fascinated by insects. The men who established the science of entomology were primarily collectors, taxonomists, and teachers, most of whom worked within the confines of their geographic area but had international influence on their developing science. Entomology and plant pathology both began before insects or plant diseases could be controlled. The problems insects and plant diseases caused were obvious to those engaged in agriculture and to scientists. Solutions to the problems could be found only by studying the source of the problems—insects and plant disease organisms. Howard (1929) noted that fear of insects was increasing because people realized that they caused damage to humans in a number of ways. In April 1929 the U.S. House of Representatives, after only 10 minutes of discussion, passed a resolution to provide funds to attempt to eradicate the Mediterranean fruit fly in Florida (Howard, 1929). The Senate passed the same resolution without discussion, which emphasizes the early recognition of the agricultural importance of the problems insects caused. When the United States was first settled by colonists from Europe, agriculture was small and spread only slowly into forests and plains. There was little importation of food or industrial products from other world areas and perhaps because the cultivated crops were new to the area, native insects did not initially cause serious harm. The only important crop pests that came from Europe to the colonies before the Revolution were the codling moth, which attacked fruits, especially apples, and the Hessian fly, whose larvae destroyed
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wheat. Entomologists in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries concentrated on classifying and studying the life histories of the many insects that were injurious to crops in the United States. Their work was good basic science and led to understanding of the organisms, which later provided the basis for their management. The U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) was organized as a department of the federal government in 1862. In the late 1800s the entomological service of the USDA was made a division and research funding gradually increased. One of the important, enduring accomplishments of the USDA during the late 1800s was the intentional introduction of the Coccinellid beetle [Vedalia (novius) cardinalis] from Australia, which effectively controlled the cottony cushion scale that had threatened the very existence of the citrus fruit industry in California. The Entomological Society of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, founded on March 1, 1859 in the home of E. T. Cresson, a pioneer hymenopterist, was the first society devoted to entomology in the United States. It is the oldest, continually operating entomological society in the western hemisphere. The name was changed to the American Entomological Society on February 11, 1867 (Essig, 1931, p. 595). The first U.S. journal to address economic entomology, The Practical Entomologist, was published by the Philadelphia Society in 1865. The journal followed the 1863 publication of the proceedings of their annual meeting. Prior to passage of the Morrill Act in 1862, which created the land-grant college system with its focus on agriculture and the Hatch Act of 1888 that created an agricultural experiment station in each state in association with the land-grant college, nearly all entomological research was done by the USDA. After the Hatch Act, entomology departments were created in nearly all states (Howard, 1929). By 1894, forty-two states and territories employed people to work on insects. Shortly afterward, university and college departments of entomology were created. Entomologists created the Association for Economic Entomologists in 1889, which in 1906 merged with the Entomological Society of America (founded 1889) and continued as the Entomological Society of America. The Association for Economic Entomologists first published the Journal of Economic Entomology in 1908. The Entomological Society (ESA) of America published the Annals of the ESA. Both journals still exist. Howard (1929) reported that in the closing decade of the nineteenth century four events occurred that “focused the attention of very many people of very many countries on the subject of insect damage.” These were: 1. The gypsy moth and the brown-tail moth, major feeders on tree foliage, were found for the first time in Massachusetts. 2. The boll weevil pest of cotton crossed the Rio Grande from Mexico near Brownsville, Texas and spread to the entire cotton belt within 25 years. 3. San Jose scale that harms fruit trees and fruit-bearing plants was found in the eastern United States. 4. It was proven that insects were the carriers of several important diseases of humans and animals.
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Because of these four events, entomology and entomologists began to receive more public attention. None of these important insect problems were solved for all time but the ensuing struggles against the damage insects caused led to several important developments. The quest for control, especially of the gypsy moth, hastened the development of effective insecticides and improved highpower spray machinery for insecticide application. The rapid spread of the cotton boll weevil dramatically illustrated the damage uncontrolled insects could cause. Many cotton plantations failed, banks failed, and their failure caused much human suffering. Howard (1929) also points out that the success of the boll weevil illustrated the hazard of a single crop economy, which had been beneficial to the development of the Southern states and the country. Study of these insects also led to continuing, long-term experiments to find, import, and establish natural biological controls for insects. One of the first expenditures of the U.S. Continental Congress was an allocation of $300 to purchase quinine to protect General Washington and his troops from the insect-borne disease malaria, which is vectored by Anopheles mosquitoes. Malaria was endemic across the southern United States until the mid-1920s. Walter Reed (1851–1902), a U.S. Army surgeon, identified the Aedes aegypti mosquito as the carrier of the virus that caused yellow fever. Subsequently, yellow fever was eliminated from the United States and most other parts of the world. The discovery that insects were carriers of major human and animal diseases gave new direction and credibility to scientific entomology and led to cooperation between entomologists and physicians interested in preventive medicine. Advances in entomology and associated medical treatments (e.g., quinine) made construction of the Panama Canal possible and allowed white humans to begin to explore and inhabit tropical areas, which has had positive and negative consequences. Entomological research has progressed rapidly and management tactics for many insect pests of humans and agriculture are now readily available. Nevertheless, human and crop damage from insects continues to occur and losses due to insects that infest agricultural crops are still important. While much information useful to better pest management may still be gained from studies of the biology and ecology of insect pests, much of the damage and monetary losses is due to the fact that the insects are not understood or that management tactics are unavailable. The dominance of large-scale, monocultural agriculture is an important factor in the severity of many insect problems and often limits the range of management tactics that are employed. In the intended quest to produce more of the crops required to feed an expanding world population, it is often not noticed that our agricultural methods also feed billions of insects. The corn root worm would be a minor problem if corn was not grown regularly and repeatedly on large acreages across the U.S. Corn Belt and in other world corn-growing areas. However, large-scale mono-cultures of corn permit the effective use of several genetically modified corn cultivars that greatly reduce reliance on insecticides to control corn root worm and the European corn borer.
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It is as true for entomology as it is for plant pathology and weed science that the way agriculture is practiced frequently creates the pest problems that scientists try to solve. Chapman (2000) notes that when the History of Entomology was published by Smith and colleagues (1973), “the technological revolution of the twentieth century was already well under way, but the changes since that time have been astonishing.” As entomologists and entomology become more specialized, the science became more dependent on those Chapman (2000) calls “real entomologists” who continue to collect and study insects. Much scientific effort is devoted to addressing the demand from agriculture and horticulture practitioners and others for quick solutions to the problems insects cause. Entomology, similar to all biological sciences, has been changed dramatically by the discovery of the structure of DNA and how it codes protein synthesis and the revolution in biology that followed. The new and important directions of entomology are described well by Chapman (2000) and need not be reiterated here. The progress of the science is illustrated well by the profusion of journals. Of 149 journals that Gilbert and Hamilton (1990) identified as dealing largely with entomology, only eighteen existed in the nineteenth century. The number of journals has increased and the number of papers has increased proportionately (Chapman, 2000). To illustrate the changes in scientific emphasis, Chapman (2000) points out that the emphasis on taxonomy and classification in introductory entomology texts has decreased while the number of pages devoted to insect ecology and physiology has increased. Since 1950, there have been eleven new books on insect acoustics, ten on insect flight, and twenty-one on insect conservation (Chapman, 2000). The scientific, social, and moral situation of entomology was addressed elegantly by Perkins (1982). An earlier book edited by Pimentel and Perkins (1980) examined the social, economic, political, and ethical factors that were important in shaping pest management systems. In Chapter VII Perkins elegantly described the quest for innovation in agricultural entomology from 1945 to 1978. Perkins (1982, p. 49) suggested that policy makers assumed that if entomologists were given enough funding and laboratory support, they would respond by finding the new insect management tactics that everyone wanted. Unfortunately, repeated and heavy reliance on insecticides, the solution of choice, created the standard practice of crisis response to an impending disaster that was common in the post-1945 era of insect management (Perkins, 1982, p. 78). The heavy reliance on insecticides in the years after World War II is shown in Figure II-1 from Flint and van den Bosch (1981). Entomologists were not unusual among scientists engaged in pest control when they followed early successes with additional research for solutions to new problems. Research during WWII on DDT led to the very successful control of several insects and established the trust among many entomologists that more research on insecticides would provide the solution to insect management problems in agriculture and would address human health issues. Some entomologists viewed insecticides as the only effective management tools. Others, while not opposed to insecticides, saw them primarily as tools to be used when all other
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80
% of papers in journal on subject
70 60 Insecticide testing
50 40 30
General biology
20 10
Biological and other control methods 1927
1932
1937
1942
1947
1952
1957
Figure II-1 Trends in applied entomological research as reflected in the Journal of Economic Entomology, 1927–1957. Note how insect control research increasingly focused on insecticide testing and became less concerned with the biologies of the pests that were being controlled (Flint and van den Bosch, 1981, p. 71). Original data from Jones (1973, p. 326).
management tactics had failed. The rationale for insect management among many in the field was profit to the crop grower. Societal benefits such as lower food costs and improved environmental quality were recognized as important objectives, but were secondary, in part, because they are difficult to measure and typically do not directly and immediately benefit the decision maker. The important question of when the risks posed by insecticides were greater than the benefits of their use to control insects was asked, but only rarely. The benefits of insecticides were obvious and environmental and other concerns were not of great concern to most entomologists or to other pest control scientists. After WWII, entomologists developed three major paradigms (Perkins, 1982, p. 183): Integrated pest management (IPM), Total population management (TPM), and chemical control. In Perkins’ view, entomologists shared fundamental metaphysical presuppositions with all other natural scientists. These have been unquestioned presuppositions that are so fundamental to all sciences that they could not be conducted without them. Common presuppositions include: Every effect has a cause. The material world is real.
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For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. The sun is the source of energy that drives the earth’s systems.
Perkins goes on to contrast the presuppositional differences among the three entomological paradigms about the role of humans in the natural world. The major differences are well illustrated by how the adherents of each paradigm answer three questions: 1. What is the relationship between humans and the natural world? 2. Do intrinsic limitations attend human abilities to manipulate the natural world? 3. If so, what are the limitations?
Entomologists in the IPM community generally agreed on four assumptions: 1. Humans are biological species firmly embedded in a complex ecosystem. 2. Anything humans can do to manage insects competing for resources must be based on the presupposition that humans are an ecological entity. 3. Humans change the environment with technology to meet their needs. 4. Technology is subject to limitations because of incomplete human knowledge of environmental complexity.
Perkins explores these assumptions and their philosophical basis in more detail than is required here. The IPM paradigm was based on well-developed, fundamental assumptions about the role of humans in the natural world. Humans had a right to control insects that harmed them or their crops but the right was not unlimited. The right to control was necessarily constrained by the limits of human knowledge and the rights of other creatures. In the 1970s two important paradigm modifications were made by IPM entomologists. The first was to assert that the best (effective and safe) pest control techniques were to be found in attempts to mimic nature. Use of biological control was an important element of effective, safe pest control measures and all controls would be most successful when natural population control measures were understood and agricultural pest control attempts recognized and adapted existing natural controls. The second addition was recognition of the necessity of greater understanding of insects and all organisms’ ability to counter attempts to control their populations. Humans probably could not and should not attempt to dominate nature with brute force. Such attempts were doomed to fail because of our incomplete knowledge of the natural world and, to put it quite simply, the cleverness of insects. The TPM paradigm shared many assumptions with their colleagues in the IPM school, to wit (Perkins, 1982, p. 187): 1. Humans are biological species firmly embedded in an ecosystem. 2. Anything humans can do to control insects competing for resources must be based on the presupposition of humans as an ecological entity. 3. Humans change the environment with technology to meet their needs. 4. Sound pest control will come from mimicking natural processes.
The primary adherents of the TPM school did not think technological advances were inherently limited. Science would march on and discover new,
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more effective control techniques. Human ignorance of the complexity of any ecosystem was a frequent cause of control failure, particularly those based on insecticides (Perkins, 1982, p. 187), but continued research would develop more appropriate, effective insect control solutions. The IPM and TPM paradigm stand in sharp contrast to the paradigm of the practitioners of chemical control. Entomologists who pursued chemical control techniques “were not inclined to voice a great deal of sentiment about their attitudes toward the natural world or about the relationship of humans to it” (Perkins, 1982, p. 184). They were practical scientists whose mission was to find the most effective insecticides for existing insect problems and develop the proper technology for application of the products that could then be recommended to people who had problems with insects. Their operative assumptions were quite different (Perkins, 1982, p. 184): 1. The natural world was complex but its complexities could be ignored safely if effective insecticides were used properly. 2. Human manipulation of nature was necessary for human welfare and progress. 3. Humans are the best stewards of the natural world and could and should do what is required to protect human interests. 4. Intrinsic limits to human ability to manipulate nature, if they exist, are usually not germane to the questions involved in controlling insects with insecticides. 5. Insecticides had to be used with care because they are poisons; but as long as they were used with care, there would not be any short- or long-term harm to human welfare.
Perkins (1982, p. 185) contrasts TPM and IPM in terms of their regard for the position of humans in the biosphere. For adherents of the IPM paradigm, humans are not total masters of the biosphere. Within the TPM paradigm, humans are not total masters but, crucially, they dare to act as if they are. All three paradigms thought of control in an economic context. That means control would not be done unless the gain would be greater than the loss in the absence of control. That is, there was an economic threshold that could be used to govern a management decision. When the concept of an economic threshold1 was first introduced, there was no certainty about how it was to be determined. Chemical control was to be done if it seemed to be worthwhile. Why take the risk of crop loss when good chemical control techniques were readily available? Subsequently, a sub-field of entomology was developed to quantify economic thresholds and economic injury levels2 for many pests. 1
The economic threshold (ET), a decision tool, is the pest level (the density for weeds or the insect population) that should lead to a management decision. It may also be called the action threshold, which, when exceeded, causes an economic loss. 2 The economic injury level (EIL) was developed as a decision tool by entomologists in the late 1950s to promote control with insecticides when other practices had failed. The fundamental assumption was that insect densities up to some level could be tolerated and insecticide application was justified only when the benefits exceed the costs. For application of these concepts to weed science, see Coble and Mortensen (1992). For a complete discussion of these concepts see Pedigo, L.R., 1999. Entomology and Pest Management, third ed. (Chapter 7. A sixth edition is now available).
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Agricultural technology and mechanization were the primary drivers of modernization and increased productivity per person up to the early 1940s. Subsequently, chemical innovations became dominant with the development of improved fertilizers (e.g., anhydrous ammonia as a nitrogen source), antibiotics incorporated in animal feed for disease prevention, 2,4-D for weed control, and the chlorinated hydrocarbons (e.g., DDT, lindane) for insect control. The era of the chemicalization of agriculture began with the promise and actuality of increased crop yields, improved animal health, and increased human efficiency to manage insects and other pests. Technological developments made important contributions to entomology through the development of selective insecticides and the equipment to apply them (see Jones, 1973 for details). The 1950s saw what Jones called “the first gropings toward the application of systems analysis to the control of crop pests.” Entomologists began to relate insect presence to crop yield and financial loss and to calculate cost-benefit analyses for insect control methods. Jones (1973) suggests that entomologists moved over about 50 years (roughly 1920 to 1970) from being dominantly natural historians interested in identifying insects and describing their life histories in the natural world to applied scientists whose interests were in control and insect management. Jones was concerned that entomology might thereby have lost some of its “feeling” for insects in the field. He suggested that agricultural entomologists with what he called “an ecological bent” were those best able to “exploit the best of both worlds.” This was especially true beginning in the 1960s when environmental considerations became increasingly important. McWilliams (2009) suggests that effort to minimize pesticide use “represents one of the quieter environmental accomplishments of the last generation.” It is part of the quest for a “more harmonious and rational approach to our relationship with insects, one that does not harm our environment and, consequently, ourselves along the way” (McWilliams, 2008). By the end of the 1970s, agriculture had changed dramatically from what it had been in the nineteenth and early twentieth century (Perkins, 1982, p. 231). It had become a capital, chemical, and technological intensive enterprise. It was also becoming a smaller enterprise in the sense that fewer people were engaged in farming. In contrast, if one considered the size of farms, it was a bigger enterprise. Large farms were potentially more profitable than small ones, but also more vulnerable because their operating expenses were a larger percentage of gross farm income. Economic entomology emerged as a distinct field of study with the rise of mechanized and chemicalized agriculture (Perkins, 1982, p. 241). Perkins suggests that “professionalism for entomologists was analogous in a socioeconomic sense to the transformation of agriculture” and much of this was achieved by organizing strong national professional associations. Nevertheless, entomology and entomologists, perhaps especially economic entomologists, were not consistently respected by their academic colleagues in the basic sciences. The applied nature of their work was often regarded as second-rate science by basic scientists. More generally, agricultural science
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was regarded as second rate by academic peers. Its practitioners were not engaged in and perhaps not even interested in elucidating new scientific principles. Many entomologists thought their primary mission was solving insect problems that affected agricultural production or human health. Their academic colleagues regarded their efforts as interesting but not as original science. Scientists engaged in other pest control disciplines suffered from the same difficulties when seeking to gain the full respect of academic colleagues. The applied orientation of entomologists was a primary reason for the real or perceived lack of respect from academic colleagues. A second and related reason was the rapid adoption and widespread use of chemical insecticides as the primary means of insect control. Perkins (1982, p. 259) claims that many thought entomologists were corrupted by the crass commercial interests of the pesticide chemical industry. This view was elegantly expressed in the widely read and popular (at least among the general public) Silent Spring by Rachel Carson (1962). Carson’s critique of pest control was especially aimed at entomologists and the use of insecticides but its effects were felt by all pest control disciplines. She suggested that the work of professional entomologists had been captured by the insecticide industry, primarily through the offer of grant funding for research, the goal of which was often prescribed by the company. The industrial firms’ interest was in improving sales of their products, which Carson argued may not be in the best interests of human health and environmental quality. There was surely some truth in Carson’s claim that many entomologists had been captured by the pesticide chemical industry. It was also true as Perkins (1982, p. 260) points out that much of the profession was also captured by large farmers and their sympathetic political representatives who wanted insect problems solved so agriculture could progress and properly use the new technology that increased food production and protected human health. Entomology and all other pest control disciplines developed and changed rapidly after WWII. In Perkins’ (1982, p. 285) view, it is easy to regard the development of entomology and the very public problems that ensued as a trivial concern of those with a direct economic interest in agricultural production or as arguments about scientific facts that could be resolved by more research and education. Without a historical perspective, an appreciation and understanding of the cultural context, and an appreciation of the political environment in which changes occurred, the intense, frequently emotionally charged debate over insecticides and the role of entomologists will continue, but not be resolved. Perkins concludes with a plea for understanding (p. 285). Properly understood, insect control as a science and an art should be seen to touch our deepest assumptions about the proper role of political power, our methods of organizing socioeconomic activity, and our sense of man’s role in the cosmos. If resolution of the insecticide crisis is to come, it will occur primarily in the fields of values and politics and only derivatively and secondarily in science. Insects may be small and invite contempt, but efforts to deal with them evoke all of the most deeply held beliefs about what it is to be human.
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Entomologists realized and did research on insect-borne plant diseases, which led to significant contributions to crop production, plant disease control, and integration with plant pathology, a subject to which we now turn.
Plant pathology The early history and development of plant pathology and entomology are quite similar in terms of their role within the U.S. Department of Agriculture and land-grant experiment stations and universities. The individuals involved are, as expected, different. The two disciplines have moved closer together in recent years as both have studied economic thresholds and insect pest resistance to management tactics that are closely related to cooperation between studies of plant pathologists and plant breeders on disease resistance. Beverly Galloway (1928) reviewed the development of plant pathology in the United States. He began by asserting that plant pathology was “an infant among sciences; so young, in fact, that it can scarcely be said to have a history.” He had received his B.Agr.Sc. from the University of Missouri in 1884 and averred that it was his privilege to present a historical review of a science that had developed within his lifetime. He began by noting that prior to 1845, farmers were not overly concerned with losses of crop yield from pests of any kind. Such losses were simply a part of agriculture. If problems became too severe, one could always move west toward the endless frontier. Land was plentiful and cheap. Few farmers or others were concerned about soil conservation or long-term fertility. Technical advances in machinery and transportation were improving farmer’s yields and efficiency and their ability to move produce to markets. Export and domestic markets were growing rapidly and farmers found it easy to sell all they could produce. Galloway points out that after about 1870, with the creation of land-grant colleges of agriculture and the USDA, the transition from the scythe to a horsedrawn binder, and from a horse-drawn wagon and canal boat to steam railroad engines and steam-driven ocean-going vessels, agriculture changed rapidly and dramatically. Commodity prices decreased, foreign competition increased, wise people counseled that land exploitation had to stop, farming techniques had to improve, and education was seen as essential. Prior to 1870 there was awareness of disease problems but no “home-developed knowledge” about them. Plant pathology was not recognized as a science, although mycology was, and it became the foundation of plant pathology (Galloway, 1928). The USDA was established in 1862 with a Division of Botany that devoted the majority of its attention to systematic study of grasses with some limited attention to weeds. In 1885, the Section of Mycology was created in the Division of Botany and it was the first step toward study of any aspect of plant pathology within the federal government (Galloway, 1928). Very little was accomplished for a few years. There was little interest and little funding for study of fungi and some
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USDA personnel were opposed to any work on mycology. The first state agricultural experiment stations were established in Connecticut and California in 1875 (Campbell et al., 1999, p. 181). The creation of state experiment stations increased demand for solutions to disease problems by farmers and growers of horticultural crops. This demand combined with the prevailing opinion that U.S. agriculture had to progress toward something better than what Galloway called a “European peasantized agriculture” demanded changes. When the USDA was first organized, there was no Presidential cabinet position for a Secretary of Agriculture; there was a Commissioner of Agriculture. Galloway (1928) was placed in charge of the young section of mycology in 1888 under the Commissioner of Agriculture. The Commissioner, Norman J. Coleman, was very supportive of work on plant diseases and approved Galloway’s proposal to change the name of the mycology section to the Section of Plant Pathology. Thus, Galloway, notes, plant pathology was born. Galloway was instrumental in creating the USDA’s Bureau of Plant Industry and become its first head. The history of plant pathology is not one coincident with wars, or the rise and fall of principalities or governments. It is linked to the story of agricultural development and the price of food. When food prices were very low because of foreign competition or very high because of famine or scarcity, concern about plant health and crop yield rose and plant pathology received more attention and funding. At about the time the Section of Plant Pathology was created in the United States, a serendipitous discovery in France had a profound effect on the future of plant pathology. It is a well-known story. A new disease of grapes had broken out in France. It was first observed in 1848, on vines at Versailles, although the same disease had been observed near Margate in England as early as 1845 (Large, 2003). By 1851, it had spread to all of France and Italy and into the wine growing areas of Switzerland and southern Germany (Large, 2003, p. 45). Toward the end of April 1882, Professor Pierre Marie Alexis Millardet3 (1838–1902) of the University of Bordeaux was strolling through a vineyard of Saint-Julien in Médoc and being a careful observer, he saw what he was not looking for. Some vines along his path still had green leaves while those further from the path were bare. He observed that the healthy leaves had a bluish-white material on them, as if a chemical had been applied. He also observed that the vines with the bluish-white material were not infected with the downy mildew fungus (Plasmopara viticola). Millardet learned from Ernest David, the manager of the vineyard at Château Beaucaillon that it had become a custom among grape growers of the region to spatter the vines adjacent to public paths with poisonous-looking substances that were not harmful to the vines or grapes to discourage passers-by from stealing grapes. To stop theft, some growers used a solution of lime and copper sulfate, commonly called blue stone. The grape leaves were not harmed but the bluishgreen leaf and fruit color from blue stone effectively prevented theft of grapes. People logically thought the grapes must be abnormal, perhaps diseased, and no 3
This story has been told many times; my primary source is Large (2003, p. 225).
The development of entomology and plant pathology and their societies in comparison
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one would steal abnormal grapes. Theft was prevented but the serendipity was that the chemical mixture also controlled (killed) the fungal cause of grape-vine mildew that was a major problem for grape growers throughout southwestern France. The scientists who had studied the disease and the growers who suffered crop quantity and quality losses due to it were all surprised. Millardet, a botanist and mycologist, was aware of the fungal problem and had been looking for something that could be applied to control the fungus. In 1884, he conducted experiments with several inorganic chemical preparations to determine what controlled mildew best. His work led to a prophylactic treatment for control of mildew and saved the French grape (and wine) industry. He was also sure the same mixture of lime and copper sulfate would control the cause of potato blight. Late blight of potatoes did a lot to contribute to the rise of plant pathology, but it nearly destroyed Irish civilization. The winter of 1845–1846 was not the first potato failure or the first Irish famine, but it was the first that affected all of Ireland. Between 1724 and 1749 the crop failed 5 times Between 1750 and 1774, it failed 5 more times 1775 to 1799—five bad years, some of famine proportions 1800 to 1824—nine bad years, five of famine In 1821 and 22, probably 250,000 Irish starved 1825 to 1849, 15 of 25 years were bad and eight were famine years, including the great one of 1845–46.
Ireland seemed permanently on the edge of starvation. Half the population depended on the potato for more than three-fourths of their energy requirements. Plant pathologists discovered that the fungus Phytophthora infestans was the lethal killer of potatoes. The fungus was the final blow to the Irish and the crop on which they depended. The year 1846 was the first island-wide potato failure. No potatoes were for sale in Europe—for 2 years almost none were fit for market. Late blight first appeared in England on the Isle of Wight in June 1845. The source remains a mystery. It was reported in every country of Europe before August 1 and it first hit the Irish crop in August—the first harvest escaped. It reappeared regularly until 1920, when plant pathologists found a cure; Bordeaux mixture as Millardet had predicted. Large (2003, p. 228) points out that B. Prévost in France had discovered and used mixtures of copper, lime, and iron 75 years earlier to soak wheat seed to prevent wheat bunt, also a fungal disease. The fungicidal mixture Millardet used was called Bordeaux mixture4 because the city of Bordeaux was the center of the grape growing region of southwestern France. That apparently accidental discovery, in Galloway’s (1928) view, “changed the whole course of 4
Millardet’s Bordeaux mixture (Bouillie bordelaise) contained 8 kilos of copper sulfate crystals dissolved in 100 liters of water, which was then combined with 15 kilos of slaked quicklime stirred into 30 liters of water. The milk of lime was then stirred into the copper sulfate solution to produce a bluish-green paste.
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plant pathological work and gave it an impetus and prestige profoundly affecting its future.” It seems strange now to recall that the discovery of the existence and roles of fungi and bacteria was as revolutionary in its time as the later discoveries of how to split atoms to produce energy or weapons and of how to manipulate the genome. Plant pathologists achieved an understanding of the role of living pathogens as causes of plant diseases that was at least 20 years ahead of achieving the same understanding of the causes of human diseases. The newly formed plant pathology section of the USDA began work with Bordeaux mixture and other copper fungicides and from 1887 to 1897 made great strides in development of prophylactic treatments for fungal diseases. Plant pathology progressed as an applied science that proved its value through its practical results that could be applied immediately by farmers and growers. The work was especially successful with copper fungicides for control of diseases of grapes and potatoes. Universities and agricultural colleges established departments of plant pathology and state experiment stations increased funds for plant pathology research. During the early twentieth century, several landgrant colleges of agriculture and universities recognized plant pathology as a distinct discipline. Research was conducted and one or more courses were taught on plant diseases and their control. The institutional leaders in creating separate departments of plant pathology included California (which established a plant pathology program in 1903), Cornell (1907), Minnesota (1907), and Wisconsin (1910) (Campbell et al., 1999, pp. 281, 283). Creation of departments played a significant role in gaining scientific credibility and advancing plant pathology. The creation of departments did not occur without debate and controversy. For plant pathology this came at a time when applied and fundamental (basic) research was triumphing over vocational instruction (Campbell et al., 1999, p. 282). The ensuing debate focused on whether plant pathology was to emphasize science or service to the agricultural community. It was an important debate about the future of plant pathology and agricultural research and the shape and structure of colleges of agriculture. Campbell and colleagues (1999) point out that “colleges of agriculture were working hard at this time to change their utilitarian reputations.” In a very real sense, the debate was won by placing plant pathology and other service-based emerging agricultural disciplines within colleges of agriculture as science-supported basic disciplines with a service obligation. Plant pathology was commonly not a separate department. In the early 1900s, there were only a few departments of plant pathology (notably Cornell and Wisconsin). Plant pathologists were commonly part of the botany department. Until 1908, plant pathologists met annually as part of the botany division of the American Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS).5 The president of the American Phytopathological Society (L. R. Jones of Vermont) left the 1908 AAAS meeting believing that the question of whether or not to form an independent phytopathological society had been resolved in favor of doing so. Jones was not correct because there was significant 5
J. D. Macdonald, Personal communication, University of California, Davis, August 2008.
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disagreement within the leadership of AAAS. Nevertheless, the American Society of Phytopathologists was organized in 1909 with 130 charter members, only 3 years after the merger that created the Entomological Society of America. The Entomological Society of Philadelphia was founded in 1859. The first meeting of the Council of the plant pathology society was held in Washington in March 1909. The society’s first meeting was held at Harvard medical school in December 1909 with fifty members attending (see Campbell et al., 1999, pp. 322–325). Now the American Phytopathological Society, which focuses on plant diseases, has over 5,000 members. The early meeting at Harvard Medical School is evidence of a connection with scientists who studied human and animal diseases. However, the primary focus of the Phytopathological Society has been and remains plant diseases, as its name implies. Because there are certain types of “cross-over” pathogens that can be problems for plants, animals, and humans, plant pathologists have expanded their research. An example is a bacterium, Enterobacter cloacae, which can cause storage rot in onions. The organism can also be an intestinal problem in livestock and a threat to humans, especially those who may be immuno-compromised. It may be true that onion growers with fields near livestock operations have a greater threat of onion contamination from bacterial movement via manure, aerosols from holding lagoons, and so on. Therefore, some plant pathologists are working with colleagues in human and animal health, especially at molecular levels, to investigate mechanisms of pathogenicity across taxa. The early twentieth century was a time of significant progress in plant disease control. The era also had several devastating plant disease epidemics (e.g., cotton wilt, chestnut blight, crown gall) that “altered the natural landscape of America” (Campbell et al., 1999, p. 253). Pathologists were also engaged in productive studies of parasite-host relationships and interactions of soil and climate with disease organisms. The selective breeding of plants for disease resistance was rapidly becoming a major area of plant pathology research. In the same period, E. F. Smith of the USDA proved that many plant diseases were caused by bacteria, which gave new direction and prestige to plant pathology. One of Smith’s primary research areas was plant galls. He was the first to discover the bacterial cause of crown gall. Demand for action on alien pests became so strong that in 1912 Congress passed the Plant Quarantine Act to safeguard the country against introduction of foreign pests. The Act is widely regarded as a sign that plant pathology had become a respected and essential science with distinct goals and national responsibilities. The Quarantine Act was to be implemented through the USDA’s Bureau of Plant Industry (BPI). Mainly through the leadership of Galloway (the Chief of the BPI), plant pathologists were among the pioneers in providing the research base for exclusion of foreign diseases and the development of plant quarantines. In the early twentieth century, American agriculture was becoming regionalized. Agricultural experiment stations and land-grant colleges of agriculture were more fully developed in some states. It was a time of growth in funding for all aspects of agricultural research in the United States.
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Campbell and associates (1999, p. 105) identify Charles E. Bessey of Iowa as one of the founders of plant pathology in the United States. They suggest that had Bessey worked at Harvard or Yale, he would be remembered as “one of the most important scientists and educators in American history.” He advanced plant science as a discipline and as a career and was a primary proponent for the inclusion of plant pathology within agricultural botany in the college curriculum. His focus was on fungal diseases because the role of bacteria and viruses was unknown. He advocated what was surely at the time, and may still be among many observers of the academic world, a radical idea that “science would thrive only if it had a practical benefit, but it should not have to define that benefit beforehand” (Campbell et al., 1999, p. 104). Much of the early work and success in plant pathology research was due to the efforts of the personnel of the USDA, not state workers. It was USDA scientists who developed the science of plant pathology and achieved the first practical results.6 During what Campbell and colleagues (1999) described as the formative years of plant pathology in the United States, work focused on studies of the life history, primarily of fungi that caused rust diseases of small grains. That work led to the search for resistant cultivars and work with plant breeders to breed cultivars resistant to known diseases. State experiment stations included those who studied animal husbandry, but the staff was composed primarily of chemists because chemistry was the main agricultural science. Chemists studied and analyzed fertilizers and provided practical recommendations to farmers. The few botanists identified weeds and checked seeds for purity (Campbell et al., 1999, p. 182). Study of plant diseases was not absent in state experiment stations or land-grant colleges but it was minimal. There was a regular debate within experiment stations and the USDA about the proper balance between practical, applied work and basic scientific research. Practical service to agriculture was important but if that was all that was done no new knowledge would be generated and questions about new problems could not be answered. By the end of the nineteenth century, plant pathology was no longer focused on research on fungi and fungal diseases. The quest for control of plant diseases continued in full recognition of the necessity for fundamental research on other causes of plant disease. As the twentieth century began, food prices and crop yields increased and scientific farming gained credence as the way to keep agriculture progressing. Plant pathology was an integral part of scientific farming and had developed into a multi-faceted science that probed the intricacies of pathogens and their interactions with their host plants. The golden age for plant pathology in U.S. universities was probably the mid- to late twentieth century. Many universities had departments of plant pathology. In the latter part of the twentieth century universities and colleges of agriculture began to suffer from decreased state support and reduced budgets, resulting in increasing financial pressure. Departments were shrinking or 6
My primary source for much of what follows is Campbell and associates (1999).
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being merged with other units and new single discipline departments were not being formed. The Web site of the American Phytopathological Society (http:// www.apsnet.org/directories/depthead.cfm—accessed October 2008) includes a list of department heads of all departments that include plant pathologists. In October 2008, only nineteen U.S. universities had departments of plant pathology, four combined plant pathology and entomology. Only two states (Nevada and Vermont) were not included, presumably because plant pathology is a minor discipline, if it exists at all. The evidence is that the number of departments of entomology and plant pathology is decreasing although the disciplines still exist in most land-grant universities with fewer faculty positions.
References Campbell, C.L., Peterson, P.D., Griffith, C.S., 1999. The Formative Years of Plant Pathology in the United States. APS Press, St. Paul, MN, 427 pp. Carson, R., 1962. Silent Spring, 25th Anniversary Edition. Houghton Mifflin Co., Boston, MA, 368 pp. Chapman, R.F., 2000. Entomology in the twentieth century. Annu. Rev. Entomol. 45, 261–285. Coble, H.D., Mortensen, D.A., 1992. The threshold concept and its application to weed science. Weed Technol. 6, 191–195. Essig, E.O., 1931. A History of Entomology. Hafner Publishing Co., New York, NY, 955 pp. (a facsimile of the original edition was published by Hafner in 1965). Flint, M.L., van den Bosch, R., 1981. Introduction to Integrated Pest Management. Plenum Press, New York, NY, 240 pp. Galloway, B.T., 1928. Plant pathology: a review of the development of the science in the United States. Agric. History II (2), 43–60. Gilbert, P., Hamilton, C.J., 1990. Entomology: A Guide to Information Sources. Mansell, London, 259 pp. Howard, L.O., 1929. The rise of applied entomology in the United States. Annu. Rev. Entomol. 3, 131–139. Jones, D.P., 1973. Agricultural entomology. In: Smith, R.F., Mittler, T.E., Smith, C.N. (Eds.), History of Entomology. Annual Reviews, Inc, Palo Alto, CA, pp. 307–329. Large, E.C., 2003. The Advance of the Fungi. The American Phytopathological Society, St. Paul, MN, 488 pp. (re-publication of the original version by J. Cape, London 1940). McWilliams, J.E., 2008. American Pests: The Losing War on Insects from Colonial Times to DDT. Columbia University Press, New York, NY, 312 pp. McWilliams, J.E., 2009. The pesticide push. http://www.slate.com/id/2216470/ (accessed 24.04.09). Pedigo, L.R., 1999. Entomology and Pest Management, third ed. Prentice Hall, Upper Saddle River, NJ, 692 pp. (see Chapter 7). Perkins, J.H., 1982. Insects, Experts, and the Insecticide Crisis—The Quest for New Pest Management Strategies. Plenum Press, New York, NY, 304 pp. Pimentel, D., Perkins, J.H., 1980. Pest control: cultural and environmental aspects. AAAS Symposium. Westview Press, Boulder, CO, 243 pp. Smith, R.F., Mittler, T.E., Smith, C.N. (Eds.), 1973. History of entomology. Annual Reviews, Inc, Palo Alto, CA, 517 pp.
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3 Beginning the study of weeds Doing history means building bridges between the past and the present, observing both banks of the river, taking an active part on both sides. Schlink (1995, p. 180) A peculiar organism, a man is the precipitated experiences of many minds, reified knowledge, the word made flesh. The individual man therefore potentially lives as many millennia as his knowledge of the past can span. But it must be conscious and articulate knowledge, for otherwise a living man is partly the passive present-day residue of the pathology of past history, since tradition is in part as neurotic as any patient. The past impressions the present only because we have not mastered our own history. La Barre (1970, p. xv)
A brief story of agriculture The blood, sweat, and tears era Agriculture can be described as having three eras. The first is best characterized as the blood, sweat, and tears era. Famine and fatigue were common and inadequate food supplies occurred frequently. Most people were farmers and many farms were small and operated at a subsistence level. Life was, for most people, in the words of the British philosopher Thomas Hobbes (1588–1679): wherein men live without other security, than their own strength, and their own invention shall furnish them … . In such conditions there is … no knowledge of the face of the earth; no account of time; no arts; no letters; no society; and which is worst of all, continual fear and danger of violent death; and the life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.
In the twenty-first century, Hobbes’ (1651) dismal view still describes the lives of at least three billion of our fellow human beings who live on less than the equivalent of two U.S. dollars per day (Nielsen, 2005, p. 170).
The mechanical era The mechanical era is agriculture’s second developmental stage. It began with invention of labor-saving machines. Jethro Tull (1829) published The New
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Horse Hoeing Husbandry in 1731. He advocated tillage and cultivation as substitutes for crop rotation, fertilizer, and fallow (Wicker, 1957). Tillage surely accomplished weed control but weeds were not an important part of his hypothesis about plant nutrition. Plant nutrition was derived from what Tull called infinitely divisible particles of earth. Tillage made the particles small and thereby plants were nourished. Tull’s hypothesis was false in all respects but he deserves credit for promoting the new practice of cultivation even though he ignored its benefits for weed control. Tull’s invention was one of the first that began the mechanical era of agriculture. In 1793, Eli Whitney invented the first workable cotton gin. Cyrus McCormick invented the reaper in 1834 and began manufacture in 1840. John Deere perfected the steel moldboard plow in 1837. These inventions and others were the beginning of dramatic, continuing changes in U.S. agriculture. The effect of agricultural mechanization can be described by the changes in farm population that began in the nineteenth century. In 1830, four farmers in the United States supported five non-farmers. In 1910, a farmer fed himself (most were men) and six others. With the advantages of improving, available, and inexpensive machines, farming became more efficient and the need for labor was reduced. By 1930, one farmer supported ten non-farmers and by 1965, one farmer supported forty non-farmers. U.S. census data (http://usda.mannlib.cornell.edu/usda/nass/SB991/ sb991.txt—accessed December 2007) show a nearly constant decline in the number of farms and an increase in farm size in most U.S. states over several decades. The 2007 data show that thirty-two states lost farms, while fourteen had a small increase and four showed no change. The mechanical era of agriculture was not simply a series of inventions that affected only agriculture. Smil (2006) noted that the period “between 1867 and 1914, equal to less than 1 percent of the history of high (settled) civilizations, was distinguished by the most extraordinary concatenation of a large number of fundamental scientific and technical advances.” Smil (2006, p. 13) identified the 1880s as “the most inventive decade in history.” Many of the inventions directly affected agriculture and nearly all affected life on the farm. Inventions in the 1880s in the first group included reliable and affordable electric lights, electric generating plants, electric motors, transformers, practical gasoline-fueled internal combustion engines, automobiles, and air-filled rubber tires. The decade of the 1890s saw the invention of diesel engines, and between 1900 and 1914 humans saw mass-produced cars, tractors, radio broadcasts, and perhaps the most significant invention for agriculture—the Haber-Bosch process for the synthesis of ammonia, which made the synthetic production of nitrogen fertilizer possible. During these decades, life on the farm changed dramatically because of the invention of the gramophone, popular photography, aluminum production, movies, the first wireless signals, vacuum tubes, tungsten light bulbs, neon lights, and several other new things that made rural life easier and more pleasant. Each of these inventions made significant contributions to agricultural productivity and the improvement of rural life but, in a real sense, they were preludes to the chemical era of agriculture.
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The chemical era Continually more efficient agricultural machinery and the increasing use of chemicals in agriculture were major contributors to the decline in the number of U.S. farms1 from 2.62 million in 1974 to 2.13 million in 2004. Land in farms declined from 952,080,000 to 940,300,000 acres, average farm size increased from 434 to 441 acres,2 while yields and food availability increased. The number of small farms (sales of less than $50,000 per year) increased in most states but still constituted only about 7 percent of all farms. In the late twentieth century, large farms with sales greater than $500,000 per year were only 3 percent of all farms but captured 62 percent of all sales and government payments. Farms with sales greater than $250,000 per year were 7.5 percent of all farms but they captured 94.2 percent of all farm sales and government payments.3 In 2002, 90 percent of all U.S. farms were family or individually owned and they captured 53 percent of all sales and government payments. Corporate farms were only 3 percent of all farms but captured 28 percent of all sales and government payments. Partnerships were 6 percent of all farms and had 18 percent of sales and government payments. Today, fewer farmers support more non-farmers in the United States and several non-U.S. residents through food exports. Much of the increase in plant productivity and the reduction in labor required on farms has been due to agricultural mechanization, improved technology (hybrid seeds, planting techniques, irrigation), and the widespread use of agricultural chemicals (e.g., fertilizer and pesticides). However, the average net cash income of roughly 1.2 million U.S. farms was only $19,032 in 2002. The average age of U.S. farmers was 55.3 in 2002 and it has gone up in every census of agriculture since 1974.4 Twenty-six percent of U.S. farmers were over 65 in 2002. Productive efficiency and required costs of land and the equipment to begin to farm make it difficult if not impossible for the young to begin to farm. The aging of farmers is an agricultural and a national problem. The problem is the result of the increasing efficiency of farming and the costs of becoming a farmer. It is not wrong to propose that there are only three ways to begin to farm: patrimony, matrimony, and parsimony. The chemical era of agriculture boosted production and costs again. The era really began when nitrogen fertilizer, a result of the Haber-Bosch process, became readily available and enabled realization of the genetic potential of the newly available hybrid corn. In the early 1930s when these things began, a quarter of the American population lived on farms. When nitrogen fertilizer 1
A farm is defined as “any establishment from which $1000.00 or more of agricultural products were sold or would normally be sold during the year.” 2 The number of farms decreased in 32 states. Land in farms decreased in 42 states. http://usda. mannlib.cornell.edu/usda/nass/SB991/sb991.txt (accessed January 2008). 3 http://www.agcensus.usda.gov/Publications/2002/Quick_Facts/distribution.asp AND http://www. agcensus.usda.gov/Publications/2002/Quick_Facts/netcash.asp (accessed January 2008). 4 http://www.agcensus.usda.gov/Publications/2002/Other_Analysis/index.asp (accessed January 2008).
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was combined with hybrid corn varieties, first experimented with by Henry A. Wallace in 1913, yields went up rapidly. Wallace’s early work led to his founding Pioneer HI-Bred International in 1926. Subsequently, hybrid corn was popularized by Roswell Garst in Iowa. In 1933, corn sold for 10 cents a bushel and a fraction of 1 percent of Iowa land was planted with hybrid seed. In 1943, 99.5 percent of Iowa corn was hybrid. In 1933, corn yield was 24.1 bushels per acre, about what it was during the Civil War. In 1943, it was 31 but by 1981, it had grown to 109 bushels per acre (Hyde, 2002). The agricultural revolution of the 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s transformed the practice of agriculture, reduced the number of people on farms, and significantly increased the productivity of those who remained (Kirkendall, 1997). At the same time, it made those who remained more dependent on governmental action and agricultural businesses that provided the resources required to practice agriculture. As remarkable as these things were, none affected weed management, which until the rapid developments of herbicides immediately after WWII (see Chapter VI), remained a mechanical task or one that used human labor. The first U.S. Congressional appropriation for weed control was made in 1901 for work in control of johnsongrass, 23 years after Congress had appropriated funds for work on cotton insect pests (Timmons, 1970). Petroleum (oil-based as opposed to synthetically derived) herbicides were first used on California crop land in 1924 and soon they became widely accepted in southwestern states. In 1942, oils were used extensively for weed control in carrots and subsequently they were used in forest nurseries (Dunham, 1973, p. 16). French scientists sprayed apple trees with dinitro dyes to control mosses, algae, and lichens. Some noticed that grasses that were wet with the spray did not die and that observation, or, more likely, a series of observations, led to the use of dinitros as herbicides for selective control of broadleaved weeds in cereals and flax (Dunham, 1973, p. 16). Sinox (sodium dinitro cresylate) was developed by Pastac (1937) in 1933. It was the first selective organic herbicide introduced in the United States. From the early 1930s until about 1945, it was used extensively in grains, clover hay, grass seed crops, peas, cane berries, onions, and lawns. After 1945, when many pesticides were developed and became widely available, yields continued to increase. In 1992, about 1 percent of U.S. citizens were farmers (about 2.8 million) and each farmer fed 128 others (94.3 Americans and 33.7 people in other countries) (Krebs, 1992). Now, in agriculture’s chemical era, less than 1 percent of U.S. citizens farm and they grow more than their grandfathers and great grandfathers ever dreamed possible. In nearly all U.S. states the number of farmers has declined and production and average farm size have increased [farm size averaged 441 acres in 2002 (U.S. Census, 2002)]. Ninety percent of U.S. farms are family or individual farms. Three percent are corporate farms that capture 28 percent of sales and government payments (USDA, 2002). In fact, USDA data show that just 3.6 percent (about 68,000) of the 2.13 million U.S. farms produce just over 56 percent of all agricultural sales.
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These changes are not unique to American agriculture. In 1938, Britain employed a million people to produce a third of the food needed for a nation of 48 million. In 1988, only 450,000 British farmers and farm workers produced three-quarters of the food for 58 million people (Malcolm, 1993). Production from each British agricultural worker increased at about twice the rate of increase for the rest of the economy (Malcolm, 1993). Less than 3 percent of the population of Germany works on farms. Farmers account for less than 2 percent of Europe’s working population. Increases in crop production and labor productivity in each agricultural era were caused by extensive farm mechanization, the use of agricultural chemicals, improved education of farmers, improved crop varieties, and improved farming practices. Developed country agriculture is now in the era of extensive and intensive use of chemical fertilizers and pesticides and is moving rapidly toward the next era of agriculture—the era of biotechnology—but weed management is still a major concern in all of agriculture.
The beginning of the study of weeds It is indisputable that farmers have always been aware of weeds in their crops, although the evidence for their awareness and concern is nearly all anecdotal. It just makes sense that any farmer had to be aware of weeds, even though they couldn’t do much to control them. Clark and Fletcher (1923) suggested that the “annual losses due to the occurrence of pernicious weeds upon farm lands, although acknowledged in a general way, are far greater than is realized.” They thought this was because “farmers gave little critical attention to the weeds growing among their crops.” They did not deny that farmers were aware of the weeds. Clark and Fletcher’s book has carefully drawn color pictures (by N. Criddle) of 71 weeds and 100 seeds. It is interesting to note that many of the same weeds are shown in most current weed identification books. The original hardback book cost $2.00. Weed science cannot claim the historical lineage of entomology or plant pathology (see Chapter II). No one disputes that weeds have been present as long as other pests, but they have not been studied as long. The major figures in early weed science all completed their education and developed their careers in the twentieth century. Available descriptions of the history of weed science and the dominant rhetoric do not include views from outside the discipline because they are often regarded as negative and emotional and, therefore, unscientific. Those with such views are regarded, in Wojcik’s (1989) terms, as being mindlessly against conventional agricultural practice, and it is assumed that their critique is not worth listening to. Available historical accounts of weed science do not compare and contrast views. They do not consider long-term unintended effects or the actual and ideal role of values in the development of weed science. They report only some of what happened and rarely ask why.
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Timmons (1970) reported that “available literature indicates that relatively few agricultural leaders and farmers became interested in weeds as a problem before 1200 a.d. or even before 1500 a.d.” One cannot be certain from his article how the dates were selected but his claim has not been disputed. We can be certain that the “critical attention” Clark and Fletcher thought was absent increased but not rapidly, primarily because the general attitude seemed to be that “weeds were a curse which must be endured, and about which little could be done except by methods which were incidental to crop production, and by laborious supplemental hand methods” (Timmons, 1970). In 1731, Tull (1829) appealed for greater attention to weeds. It is needless to go about to compute the value of the damage weeds do, since all experienced husbandmen know it to be very great, and would unanimously agree to extirpate their whole race as entirely as in England they have done the wolves, though much more innocent and less rapacious than weeds.
Farmers, however, were bound by their inability to do much about weeds except by the laborious hand methods Timmons (1970) mentioned. Insects caused obvious human and crop problems. Weeds, with a few exceptions, did not cause direct harm to humans. Those that did (e.g., poison ivy or poison oak) could be avoided. Neither was widespread as a weed of crops nor of great concern to the majority of people. Many weeds aggravated human allergies but many other plants were also allergenic. Insects and insecticides were, respectively, causes of and solutions to human disease problems. Weeds and herbicides were not, and less attention was paid to them. Weeds and herbicides were agricultural problems, and not organisms of general societal concern. There were scientists interested in the study of weeds and in developing techniques to reduce the crop losses caused by weeds. The primary movers in the development of weed science are the subject of the next chapter.
References Clark, G.H., Fletcher, J., 1923. Farm Weeds of Canada, second ed. (Revised and enlarged by G.H. Clark published in 1909. Reprinted by Canada Department of Agriculture). F.A. Acland, Ottawa, Canada. Dunham, R.S., 1973. The Weed Story. Institute of Agriculture, University of Minnesota, St. Paul, Minnesota, MN, 86 pp. Hobbes, T., 1651. Leviathan (Part 1, Chapter 13). Hyde, J., 2002. Four Iowans who fed the world. http://hoover.archives.gov/programs/ 4Iowans/Hyde-Culver.html. (accessed July 2007). Kirkendall, R.S., 1997. Second Thoughts on the Agricultural Revolution—Henry A. Wallace in his Last Years. H.A. Wallace Institute for Alternative Agriculture, Greenbelt, MD, 28 pp.
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Krebs, A.V., 1992. The Corporate Reapers: The Book of Agribusiness. Essential Books, Washington, DC, p. 16. La Barre, W., 1970. The Ghost Dance: Origins of Religion A Delta Book. Dell Publishing Co. Inc., New York, NY, 677 pp. Malcolm, J., 1993. The farmer’s need for agrochemicals. In: Gareth, J., Agriculture and the Environment. E. Horwood Pub., London, UK, pp. 3–9. Nielsen, R., 2005. The Little Green Handbook: Seven Trends Shaping the Future of Our Planet. Picador Press, New York, NY, 365 pp. Pastac, I., 1937. Les colorants nitres et leurs applications particulieres. J. De al lutte chemique contre les ennemis das cultures 38, 4. Schlink, B., 1995. The Reader (translated into English in 1997). Vintage International, Germany, 218 pp. Smil, V., 2006. Transforming the Twentieth Century: Technical Innovations and Their Consequences. Oxford University Press, England, 358 pp. Timmons, F.L., 1970. A history of weed control in the United States and Canada. Weed Sci. 18, 294–307. Republished Weed Sci. 53, 748–761, 2005. Tull, J., 1829. The horse-hoeing husbandry: or A treatise on the principles of tillage and vegetation, wherein is taught a method of introducing a sort of vineyard culture into the corn-fields, in order to increase their product and diminish the common expense, By Jethro Tull. To which is prefixed, an introduction, explanatory of some circumstances connected with history and division of the work; and containing an account of certain experiments of recent date. William Cobbett, London, UK, First published in 1731. U.S. Census, 2002. Table 1. Historical Highlights: 2002 and Earlier Census Years. USDA National Agricultural Statistics Service, Washington, DC. USDA, 2002. National Agricultural Statistics Service. NASS quick facts from the 2002 census of agriculture. http://www.nass.usda.gov/census/census02/quickfacts/ organization.htm Wicker, E.R., 1957. A note on Jethro Tull: innovator or crank. Agric. History 31, 46–48. Wojcik, J., 1989. The Arguments of Agriculture: A Casebook in Contemporary Agricultural History. Purdue University Press, West Lafayette, IN, p. 85.
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4 The founders It is easy for the historian to see chasms where there are merely streams easily leaped over and running to the same common ocean. Gopnik (2007). Slaughterhouse The idealistic origins of total war. The New Yorker 2/12, pp. 82–85
At its most basic level, history is about people and what they did or did not do at some critical juncture. The records of the early years of weed science in the United States and the people who were involved are fragmentary and incomplete. Most of the men who crossed the early chasms and began to study weeds and their control are dead. Few who worked in the 1940s and 1950s are still alive. Tracing the history of the founders to create the story of weed science’s development is difficult. There are some good records of who did what and when it was done but few records of why decisions were made. Much of the past is contained only in the memories of those who were present when things began. For the reasons given above, this author has not attempted to include the many European scientists who were involved in the early development of weed science here. It has been difficult to learn about the American men, and European information is less accessible. No living U.S. weed scientists are included.
Henry Luke Bolley Henry Luke Bolley 1 was born February 1, 1865, on a farm in Manchester, Indiana, the youngest of twelve children to John B. Bolley and Mary Broad Bolley. He died in Minneapolis, Minnesota in 1956. Purdue University in West Lafayette, Indiana, awarded him a bachelor of science degree in 1888. He served as assistant botanist of the Indiana Experiment Station and earned a master of science degree from Purdue in 1889. In the summer of 1890, Dr. Horace E. Stockbridge, the newly selected president of the North Dakota Agricultural College (NDAC), asked Bolley to be a botanist and plant pathologist there. Bolley accepted, and arrived in early October, 1890, to join the first faculty of agriculture. He was one of five founders of the North Dakota Agricultural Experiment Station, from which he retired in 1945. 1
Much of the information on Bolley was obtained from the Weed Sci. Soc. of America newsletter 5 (2), 6, 1977 and from North Dakota State University. http://library.ndsu.edu/repository/bitstream/handle/ 10365/373/BolleyHLpapers.pdf (accessed February 2009).
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He continued to study at NDAC to become a plant pathologist. During his first winter in Fargo, Bolley made the first pure cultures of the fungus Oospora scabies, which caused potato scab. In the spring of 1891, the first field plantings of treated scabby seed were made. The results were successful, and led to Bolley’s publication by the North Dakota Experiment Station of Potato Scab and Possibilities of Prevention. The corrosive sublimate treatment for potato scab developed by Bolley became known around the world. It was also during that first year at the college that Bolley began to study a disease that was destroying the flax crop, which he described as “flax wilt.” He also began work on smut in wheat, oats, and barley. Plant diseases were not his only interest. Human sanitation was also very important to him. From 1890 to 1896, Bolley published many bacteriological papers dealing with the purity of water supplies, milk, and other farm products. In 1897, Professor Bolley published, in the Journal of Comparative Medicine and Veterinary Science, a serum method of diagnosing typhoid fever. His interests and skills extended beyond his professional responsibilities. While at Purdue, Bolley developed a keen interest in football, a very new sport at the time. He helped organize the first team at Purdue. In 1890, Professor M. A. Brannon of the University of North Dakota, a past football opponent of Bolley’s, challenged NDAC to a football game. It took 3 years before Bolley could assemble enough students for the game. NDAC won both games in 1894 and split in 1895. Bolley coached the team for several years and remained interested in it even after regular coaches were hired. During his early years at the college, he met Frances Barnett Sheldon, and they married on September 23, 1896. Frances graduated with a degree in Greek Studies from Oberlin College. The Bolley had two children. Professor Bolley was a firm believer in the principle of survival of the fittest. After coming to North Dakota he became convinced that the flax-sick land was not sick in the sense that it was overcropped. It was sick due to a soil-borne parasitic disease. Bolley believed that the way to control the disease was to develop resistant plants through breeding. He soon discovered that even on the most wilt-ridden areas of land, some plants survived. After a careful selection and continuous cropping on flax-sick land, Bolley and his assistants developed varieties that survived. After nearly 9 years of investigations Bolley proved the land had not lost its fertility, but was infected by seed-borne propagules of the fungus Fusarium lini. In 1901 he published NDAC Bulletin 50, which described the fungus as the cause of flax wilt. Bolley was one of the earliest experimenters on the eradication of weeds in cereal grain fields by means of chemical sprays. It is not an exaggeration to claim that he introduced the idea of broadcast spraying of herbicides for selective weed control. Although some chemicals were already used to kill weeds and grasses, Bolley believed the Experiment Station should investigate whether chemicals of a sufficient strength could destroy the weeds but not injure cereal grains and beneficial grasses. Concurrently, with several European researchers, he began the first studies in the United States with iron sulfate, copper sulfate, copper nitrate, sodium arsenite, and salt for selective control of broadleaved weeds in cereal grains. He believed a traction sprayer could be driven over
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the fields to destroy the weeds. Experiments initiated in 1896 were so successful that many states and European countries quickly began spraying for weed control in cereals to increase production. Bolley also corresponded with many manufacturers to help them develop suitable machinery to undertake the work. He knew the available machines (e.g., potato sprinklers) were inadequate and a sprayer with the capacity to create mist under pressure was needed. In NDAC Bulletin 80, published in 1908, Bolley described his view of the future of selective chemical control of weeds. Each year our experiments have resulted in success of such marked nature that the writer feels safe in asserting that when the farming public have accepted this method of attacking weeds as a regular farm operation that the gain to the country at large will be greater in monetary consideration than that which has been afforded by any single piece of investigation applied to field work in agriculture.
He went on to assert: If, therefore, this method of attacking weeds by means of chemical sprays is one-quarter to one-half as successful in general operation as the writer is willing to vouch for, the money returns to the spring wheat growing states must far exceed the hopes of the most optimistic.
The advent of 2,4-D and its many successors have demonstrated the validity of Bolley’s prophetic words. He was a pioneer who recognized the potential benefits of selective chemical weed control in the latter part of the nineteenth century, before farmers were ready to adopt it. While Professor Bolley was accurately prophetic about the future of chemical weed control, a secondary interest, his other discoveries in his primary research area, plant pathology, were not always pleasing to everyone. His discovery of flaxsick and wheat-sick soils angered land speculators and railroad moguls who were making large sums of money from new farmers. To protect their interests, a group of bankers and businessmen formed the Better Farming Association to counteract Bolley, and others, at the Agricultural College. In 1913 Thomas Cooper, Directory of the Better Farming Association, joined the Agricultural College, and was given control of the experiment station and extension division. Bolley was quickly locked out of his laboratories and relieved of research money. He was charged with unscientific conduct and investigated by a faculty committee in 1916. He continually fought and denied all charges and ultimately was exonerated.
Wilfred W. Robbins Robbins was born on a farm in Mendon, Ohio on May 11, 1884. He received his B.A. degree from the University of Colorado in 1907 and a master’s degree in 1909. From 1908 to 1919 he was successively instructor of Biology, instructor in Botany and Forestry, assistant professor of Botany and Forestry, and assistant
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professor of Botany and Botanist in the Experiment Station of Colorado A & M in Fort Collins (now Colorado State University). In 1917 he published his first book—The Botany of Crop Plants and received his Ph.D. from the University of Chicago. From 1912 to 1918, Robbins regularly contributed articles about weeds and their control and other topics of agricultural interest to the Fort Collins newspaper. 2 Robbins moved to Davis, California, in 1922 and devoted the next 29 years of his life to being chairman of the Botany Division of the College of Agriculture. Robbins actually created the Department of Botany in the newly developed College of Agriculture at Davis. He became interested in weeds and poisonous plants during his years in Colorado and initiated a program of weed research at Davis in 1930. Robbins created the first university course on weeds at Davis and with A. S. Crafts and R. N. Raynor as junior authors, he wrote the first textbook on weed control (Robbins et al., 1942), which was responsible for the introduction of a course on weeds at many U.S. universities. The second edition (Robbins et al., 1952) was published in 1952 and the third (Crafts and Robbins, 1962) was dedicated to Robbins by Crafts, who said of his friend and mentor, “no other single person has had a greater influence on the establishment of weed control as a science and as a discipline than has Dr. Wilfred W. Robbins.”
Alden Springer Crafts The first man to claim the title weed scientist was Alden Springer Crafts, who was born in Fort Collins, Colorado, on June 25, 1897, the son of Henry Alonzo and Elizabeth Dunscomb (Bleakley) Crafts. After graduation from Oakland high school in California in 1916, he enrolled in the College of Agriculture at the University of California at Berkeley and finished one year. That year of education was not satisfactory to him because it lacked practical experience in agriculture. He left to work on the Kearney field station as a field laborer. In 1918, he and his two brothers purchased a farm in Potter Valley near Ukiah, California, in Mendicino County. Theirs was a general farm that grew alfalfa, grain, and corn. They also raised and milked dairy cows and raised hogs and poultry. Crafts was a farmer until 1925, when he returned to college at the University of California at Davis, where he worked for W. W. Robbins. Although he had been born in Fort Collins, Colorado, where Robbins began his career, Crafts did not know Robbins until he moved to Davis. On Robbins’ advice, Crafts transferred from the University at Davis to Berkeley in 1926 to pursue a career in plant science. He received his bachelor of science degree (cum laude) there in 1927 and in the same year published his first scientific paper (Kennedy and Crafts, 1927), which showed that arsenic translocated from leaves into plant roots. He married Alice Hardesty on June 25, 1926, on his 29th birthday. His doctorate 2
Several of the articles are preserved in the archives of Morgan Library at Colorado State University. They were donated to the Library by W. T. Lanini of the University of California—Davis.
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was awarded by the University of California in 1930 and Robbins, a member of his doctoral committee, offered Crafts a position in weed control at Davis. By 1930, Robbins and Walter Ball (another pioneer weed man who worked for the California Department of Agriculture) had traveled the state to promote work on weeds. When Robbins asked Dean C. B. Hutchinson for a full-time position on weed control he had done his political homework and the Dean granted the request. Crafts said he had accepted a postdoctoral National Research Council fellowship at Cornell University and could not accept Robbins’ offer. Robbins agreed to hold the job for Crafts for one year. It is clear that Craft’s career and research were influenced by his time at Cornell and, very significantly by Robbins. In 1930 and 1931 Crafts worked at Cornell on translocation in plants under the guidance of Professor O. F. Curtis. At Cornell, Crafts was also influenced by W. C. Muenscher (1935), an Assistant Professor of Botany and the author of Weeds, one of the first weed identification books. The primary aim of Muenscher’s book was “to make more available the information on the identification and control of weeds.” It was followed by the equally good weed identification book, Weeds of California (Robbins et al., 1941). When Crafts returned to Berkeley, he was appointed as an assistant botanist with the title Weed Control Scientist, the first in the United States to have that title. The position included the munificent salary of $3,000 per year. He became Professor of Botany at Davis in 1946 and Professor Emeritus in 1964, when he retired. So here we have two men who came together in California and began a new science about weeds. Crafts said, “Little did I realize when on July 1, 1931, I initiated weed control by scientific methods, that I was starting a technology that, in a mere 50 years would develop into an industry involving hundreds of effective herbicides that would exceed in cost and magnitude the sum total of all other pesticides” (Crafts, 1985; Shaw, 1984). It was Robbins who provided the necessary initial impetus to create the scientific study of weeds at Davis, but it was Crafts, through his research and prolific writing that gave the study of weeds scientific credibility. Robbins initiated but Crafts really began weed science in the university. The aforementioned textbook had four editions, the last (Crafts, 1975) was published when he was 78. During his career, he was president of the Weed Science Society (1958–59), the American Society of Plant Physiologists, and the California Weed Conference. He was acting Chair of the Botany Department of the University of California from 1959–60 and Chair from 1960 to 1963. Dr. Crafts was awarded an honorary degree (L.L.D.) from the University of California at Davis and an honorary M.A. from St. John’s College of Oxford University. He was awarded a Fulbright fellowship (1957) and two Guggenheim fellowships (1938 and 1957). He was a member of Phi Beta Kappa, Sigma Xi, Phi Sigma, and Gamma Alpha. He was the third president of the Weed Society of America in 1958 and 1959. (Presidents served 2-year terms until 1966.) Beginning with studies of dilute foliar applications of sodium arsenite for control of deep-rooted field bindweed led to Dr. Craft’s primary research
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interest—the mechanism of translocation in plants, particularly phloem translocation (e.g., Crafts, 1935). He pioneered research on autoradiography to follow translocation in plants. That work resulted in more than one hundred refereed scientific papers and ten books.
Charles J. Willard Many of those who first called themselves weed scientists received their education with Willard at Ohio State University. Willard was born in Manhattan, Kansas in 1889 and died in Ohio in 1974. He received his bachelor’s degree from Kansas Agricultural College, his master of science from the University of Illinois, and his doctorate from The Ohio State University, where he remained on the faculty for 42 years. He began the weed control program in Ohio with the first studies of chemical control in 1927. Willard served as editor of the journal Weeds from 1959 through 1965 and was one of the first four selected as honorary members of the Weed Society. His greatest contribution to weed science was as an educator of the men who went on to build weed science after WWII.
James W. Zahnley Zahnley was born in 1884 near Dwight, Kansas, and died in 1975 in Kansas. He received his bachelor of science and master’s degrees from what is now Kansas State University and spent his entire career in Kansas. He joined the agronomy faculty in Kansas in 1915. Although not well known, he was among the pioneers in weed control investigations in the western United States. Zahnley discovered the efficacy of sodium chlorate for control of field bindweed and Russian thistle and was involved in some of the first experiments on the herbicidal potential of sodium trichloroacetate (TCA) for control of perennial grasses. He was a charter member of the North Central Weed Control Conference.
Thomas K. Pavlychenko3 Pavlychenko was born in the Ukraine in 1892 and died in Saskatchewan in 1958 after immigrating to Canada in the 1920s. Previously, he had studied agriculture at the Pedagogical Institute at Vennitza and at the College of Agriculture in Karmenetz-Podilskiy in the Ukraine. Subsequently, he moved to Czechoslovakia to study agriculture. He obtained his M.S. from the University of Saskatchewan in 1932 and his doctorate from the University of Nebraska in 1940. Pavlychenko began his professional career as an experimentalist at the University of Saskatchewan in Saskatoon in 1930. He became the Research 3
My source for this brief biography is the Weed Sci. Soc. of America newsletter 5 (1), 4, 1977.
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Professor of Applied Plant Ecology and was director of the University’s plant ecology research laboratory. For many years the University of Saskatchewan was the only one in North America that had an independent Department of Plant Ecology. The department, under Pavlychenko’s direction, conducted weed research, including herbicide evaluation. He was a pioneer in research designed to study the competitive interactions among crops and weeds. His work on the competitive efficiency of weeds and the growth of weeds is still regarded as foundational to studies of weedcrop competition. He was especially interested in root growth and the role of roots in plant competition. His life’s work focused on weed problems in Saskatchewan but his work had influence throughout North America.
Erhardt P. (Dutch) Sylwester Dutch Sylwester (1906–1975) was Professor of Botany and Plant Pathology at Iowa State University. For those who knew him, he remains the epitome of the extension weed specialist. His contributions derived from his ability to teach weed control techniques to farmers whose questions came from experience and need. The farmers expected answers immediately not the next day or after more research. Sylwester succeeded W. S. Ball of the California Department of Agriculture as the Chair of the Association of Regional Weed Control Conferences. Sylwester is, therefore, properly regarded as a founder of the Association and of the Weed Society of America. Sylwester’s many contributions were acknowledged when, in 1969, he was recognized as the ninth Honorary Member (changed to Fellows after the 1970 meeting) of the Weed Science Society of America. Dutch, in 1945, was one of the first to receive a sample of the new herbicide, 2,4-D. He had been preaching and teaching the importance of weed control through tillage, clean seed, and good farming practices for many years. He quickly recognized that 2,4-D was a new tool that gave him and Iowa’s farmers the ability to accomplish selective weed control in corn, Iowa’s most important crop in the late 1940s. He created weed control programs in Iowa based on the use of 2,4-D and the good practices he had recommended for years. His programs became the model for weed control in much of the U.S. Corn Belt.
Robert Henderson Beatty Robert Beatty was born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, on January 8, 1910.4 He graduated from Pennsylvania State University with a bachelor of science 4
Much of the information on R. H. Beatty is from Beste, C. E., 1983. Herbicide Handbook, fifth ed. Weed Sci. Soc. of America newsletter, Champaign, IL, pp. vi–viii. The handbook was dedicated to Beatty.
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degree in horticulture in 1933. After graduation he was an advisor to the Victory Garden Program. In 1935 he began a florist business in Philadelphia. In 1939 Beatty joined the American Chemical Paint Co. (founded in 1914) to do field work in the developing field of plant hormone products. The American Chemical Paint Co. changed its name to AmChem in 1959 and to AmChem Products in 1977. After several mergers the company became part of Aventis Crop Science, which subsequently became part of Bayer Crop Science (see http://cropandsoil.oregonstate.edu/herbgnl, for details of mergers, accessed March 2007). The scientific journal Weeds was first published in 1951 with Dr. Robert D. Sweet of Cornell University as its editor. The journal was created by the association of the four U.S. regional weed conferences and appeared before the national society existed. The first suggestion that a scientific journal about weeds was needed was made by representatives of the North Central Weed Control Conference in 1949. The Conference did not pursue the idea for financial reasons and lack of adequate manpower (Andersen, 1991, p. 56). Planning to create the Weed Society of America was begun in Kansas City in January 1954 and Bob Beatty was selected to be the first president. The newly created society first met in New York City in 1956. It became the Weed Science Society of America at the conclusion of the 1967 annual meeting. It is worthy of note that the first president of the Weed Society was from the chemical industry, an indication of the close association between the academia, government, and industry that continues to the present (Appleby, 2006, p. 4). Beatty served as the third president of the Association of Regional Weed Control Conferences from 1953 to 1956 (Appleby, 2006). The Association of Regional Conferences, formed in 1949 in Kansas City, created the Weed Society of America. Beatty was also a major force in the organization and progress of each of the regional weed control conferences. All previous herbicides were just a prologue to the rapid development that occurred following discovery of the selective activity of the phenoxyacetic acid herbicides, which roughly coincided with the beginning of Beatty’s career with the American Chemical Paint Co. The first U.S. patent (No. 2,390,941) of 2,4-D as a herbicide was obtained by F. D. Jones of the American Chemical Paint Co. on May 4, 1945. Jones patented only 2,4-D’s activity (the fact that it killed plants) but made no claim about selective action (the fact that it killed some, but not all, plants) (King, 1966; Zimdahl, 2007, p. 363). The company thus became one of the pioneers and leaders in the development of the phenoxy acid herbicides for agriculture. Beatty became Director of Research and Development for AmChem in 1940, a position he held until 1966. He remained with AmChem as a technical advisor to the president until his retirement in 1973. He was a persuasive advocate for the regional weed control conferences and an important participant in the discussions that led to the formation of the Weed Society of America in 1956. His work in the agricultural industry began when selective chemical weed control was still an idea to be developed, not a reality to be perfected,
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which, with his strong influence, it soon became. Beatty was among the leaders in development of 2,4-D and 2,4,5-T, first for homeowners and then for crops, rangeland, and rights-of-way. His leadership was key to the early success of chemical brush control and his AmChem research group led the development of basal dormant spraying, oil-water sprays, invert emulsions, and the equipment essential for application. His career in the agricultural chemical industry began in field applied research. He became an administrator and Director of Research but always believed that the best solutions to weed problems were derived from knowledge of the problems in the field. Beatty became a national and international authority on selective weed control and the use of plant growth regulators. In 1974, he was honored by the Weed Science Society of America with the Founder award and he remains the sole recipient. He was also a Fellow of the American Association for the Advancement of Science and the American Institute for Biological Sciences. He was honored as an Original Honorary Member of the Weed Science Society of America, as an Honorary Member of the North Central Weed Conference, and received the Distinguished Member Award of the Northeastern Weed Science Society. Alden Crafts was the first academic weed scientist, but it was Bob Beatty who created the beginning of the agri-chemical industry that is so closely related to the development of weed science in the world.
Marion W. Parker Early weed control work in the U.S. Department of Agriculture was dominated by three men. The first was Marion Parker,5 who was born December 4, 1907, in Salisbury, Maryland. He was not educated as a weed scientist. Parker received his B.S. from Hampden-Sydney College in Hampden-Sydney, Virginia, where he was elected to Phi Beta Kappa. His M.S. and Ph.D. degrees were in plant physiology from the University of Maryland. After receiving the Ph.D. in 1931, he taught plant physiology and did research at the University of Maryland. In 1936 he joined the U.S. Department of Agriculture, where he conducted research primarily on the physiology of flowering until 1952. From 1952 to 1954 he was Director of Rubber Investigations for the USDA. In 1954 he became the second Director of Weed Investigations at the USDA’s Beltsville agricultural research laboratory. Parker replaced Roy Lovvorn who was the first head of the USDA/ARS weed research program. Lovvorn left the USDA after a short time to become Director of the Agricultural Experiment Station at North Carolina State University, where he had begun his career as a professor. He began much of the weed research program at North Carolina State. Parker was one of the primary architects of a reorganization of USDA agricultural research. In 1957 he was selected as Director of the Crops Research Division of 5
Much of the information on Dr. Parker is from Hull, H. M., 1967. Herbicide Handbook, first ed., pp. v–vi. The first edition was dedicated to Dr. Parker.
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the USDA, which included all federal plant science research. He was appointed Associate Administrator of the Agricultural Research Service in March 1965 and served until his death in 1966. In his several USDA administrative positions he made major contributions to the growth and prestige of weed science within the agency and insisted that all USDA weed scientists were obligated to support the fledgling Weed Society of America and they were encouraged to participate in the regional conferences. His support was a powerful force that contributed to the development of the regional and national weed conferences, which were soon to become scientific societies. Parker represents the third part of the development of weed science: the academia, the chemical industry, and the government through the USDA.
William B. Ennis, Jr. Bill Ennis succeeded Marion Parker as head of the USDA weed laboratory at Beltsville and subsequently as Chief of the Crop Protection Research Branch of USDA, which included all weed investigations. He was a native of Mississippi. Ennis was Vice president of the Weed Society of America from 1954 to 1956, when he became the second president until 1958. His first experience with herbicides was during WWII as a researcher at the U.S. Army’s Biological Warfare Laboratory at Fort Dietrich, Maryland.
Warren Cleaton Shaw The third USDA weed scientist of note was Warren Shaw. Those who had the privilege of working with him knew his enthusiasm and boundless energy.6 Shaw was a native of North Carolina and he retained his southern accent in spite of spending most of his career elsewhere. His B.S. degree in Agricultural Education was granted by North Carolina State University in 1943, followed by an M.S. in Crop Science at North Carolina State University in 1947 under Roy L. Lovvorn. Shaw moved to Ohio State to pursue a Ph.D. in agronomy under C. J. Willard. His doctorate, the first in the United States for a dissertation based on the practical control of weeds, was granted in 1947. From 1945 to 1950 he taught crop and weed science courses at Ohio State and North Carolina State University. In 1950 he left the academic world and joined the U.S. Department of Agriculture at the Beltsville, Maryland, research center. Shaw was among the leaders in developing and promoting the technology for herbicide discovery. The principles he developed became the foundation 6
Much of the information on Dr. Shaw is from McWhorter, C. G., Gebhardt, M. R. (Ed.)., 1988. Methods of Applying Herbicides. Monograph Series No. 4. Weed Sci. Soc. of America newsletter, Champaign, IL, pp. i and ii.
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on which the chemical industry built extensive herbicide screening and herbicide development systems. For example, it was Shaw’s insight that changed how candidate chemicals were screened to detect herbicidal activity.7 Initially, and well into the 1950s, chemical companies used coleoptile growth of germinating seeds in petri dishes and an agar plate root growth inhibition test to identify candidate chemicals. Most companies used seeds of targeted weeds, although some, unwisely, used crop seeds because they were easier to obtain. If the seeds germinated and coleoptiles and roots developed a bit, the candidate chemical was assumed not to have herbicidal activity.8 Shaw reasoned that the proper way to detect herbicidal activity was to spray the chemical on growing weed seedlings that were photosynthesizing, and on the soil in which they were growing. That method changed the herbicide industry. The discovery of the enormously popular and profitable triazine herbicides was missed by American Cyanamid Corp. because they used the germinating seed method. Triazines did not and do not affect germinating seeds but they do affect photosynthesizing plants. Shaw, with the help of the Beltsville machine shop workers, designed an endless belt spray machine that forever changed the way all chemical companies evaluated candidate herbicides. These insights alone qualify Shaw as a creator of much of the success of weed control and of herbicide discovery and development. He was a leader in the development of enduring principles of chemical control for small grain crops, selective pre-emergence weed control practices in peanuts and soybeans, and in techniques to systematically evaluate and correlate chemical structure and herbicidal activity. Dr. Keith Holly, formerly of the Weed Research Organization (WRO) in the U.K., reported that WRO developed an indoor sprayer that moved on a track in a chamber and sprayed candidate herbicides on plants growing in pots in 1948.9 Methods involving application of test compounds to the soil of potted plants were used as early as 1935 (Crafts, 1985). Other early 1940s screening methods included application to seeds and aerial plant parts by means of dusts, aerosols, aqueous and non-aqueous sprays, single droplets, lanolin smears, carbowax pellets, injections, immersion and submersion (see Norman et al., 1950 for citations). I conclude that it is impossible and perhaps undesirable to determine who first developed and used an indoor spray chamber to test candidate 7
I am indebted to Dr. James L. Hilton of North Carolina, retired from USDA after 37 years, for the information about Warren Shaw. Kirby (1980, p. 50) reports, without a date, that Dr. E. L. Leafe was in charge of herbicide screening at the Boots Company’s Lenton Experimental Station in the U.K. They had been using the coleoptile or straight growth test to detect herbicidal activity. Personal correspondence (August 8, 2008) from Dr. Leafe reveals that he introduced a screening test using growing plants in early 1953. Leafe notes that his herbicide group was not aware of Shaw’s idea. The change of technique at Boots was likely coincident with Shaw’s idea, for which there is no published record. 8 Fryer, John, Personal communication, October 31, 2008. The germinating seed test was used at Imperial Chemical Industries Jealott’s Hill Agricultural Research Centre in 1947 for detection of auxin-like activity, but whole plant tests were used to detect other types of herbicidal activity. 9 Holly, K., Personal communication, January 2009.
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herbicides on growing plants. As is true of many fields of discovery, it is impossible to identify a particular individual who was responsible for a unique technological innovation. However, it is certain that Shaw and Leafe were among the innovators. Shaw’s most enduring contributions are not scientific. They are due to his work as an ARS administrator and program leader who hired many of the scientists who became leaders in the developing field of weed control. He saw the USDA’s role as one of finding appropriate field uses for the herbicides discovered by the chemical industry. In his view, the chemical industry discovered herbicidal activity and the USDA found applications. Shaw was, in a very real sense, an evangelist for weed science (Zimdahl, 2002). He was a visionary who, in his presidential address to the Weed Society of America, saw weed science as revolutionary because it was using “chemicals to replace physical energy for weed control” (Shaw, 1964). Weed scientists, in his view, were beginning, indeed they were creating, an era of the chemicalization of agriculture. Weed control itself, aided by herbicides, was an essential part of the fundamental ecological interaction of stabilizing vegetation at a highly productive level that would not ensue if natural ecological processes were allowed to proceed (Zimdahl, 2002). He frequently affirmed a belief that was shared by many of his colleagues in weed science that there was a need to manage the environment in a purposeful and intelligent manner to maintain and increase its agricultural productivity. His belief was shared by many future presidents of the Weed Science Society of America. Shaw (1964) also looked ahead and identified several areas that remain of concern to the weed science community. These included concerted efforts to develop total farm weed control, development of the advantages of rotational use of herbicides, and prevention of the development of herbicide-resistant weeds, avoidance of undesirable soil residues, and finally one of the things he did so well—to develop and promote strong, effective public relations programs to create the best public image for weed science. Shaw identified and tirelessly promoted the requirements for future scientific and political progress in weed science. Most of today’s weed scientists accept his prescriptions and acknowledge that the science has made progress on each front, but has not reached the goals he established (Zimdahl, 2002). He was among the founders and a charter member of the Weed Society of America (WSA). He was one of those who wrote the constitution and bylaws of the Society. Shaw was, in every sense, present at the creation of the Society and of the scientific study of weeds. His last 10 years of public service were as a member of the National Program staff of the USDA’s Agricultural Research Service, a position in which he coordinated and led the USDA’s weed science program. Shaw was president of WSA from 1962 to 1964, and a member of the Executive Board from 1954 to 1960. His leadership moved the Board to create the first awards presented to members by the Society. He also served as president of the Southern Weed Society from 1953 to 1956. He retired from the USDA National Program Staff and soon thereafter took his own life.
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Francis Leonard Timmons The fourth USDA scientist of note was known to all as Tim and he is well known in the weed science community as the “Dean” of USDA weed scientists. He was born February 12, 1905 in Little River, Kansas,10 the eldest of five children to Elmer and May Timmons. He graduated cum laude from Kansas State College (now Kansas State University) in 1928 about one year after he married Bessie Smith. He received his M.S. from Kansas State University in 1932. Tim began work at the USDA Experiment Station at Hays, Kansas, and within a few years had established the first USDA/state research program on field bindweed control at the Fort Hays Experiment Station. In fact it was the first USDA weed control program in the United States. Perennial weed control remained an important focus of his work until his retirement in 1970. In 1948, Tim moved from Hays, Kansas to Logan, Utah, where he became the USDA regional coordinator for all weed control research in eleven western states. In 1954 he moved to the University of Wyoming in Laramie where he became the national USDA/ARS leader of weed investigations for aquatic and non-crop areas. Tim was unique in that he was the only USDA national program leader who remained in his leadership position in spite of the fact that he refused to move to Beltsville, Maryland. He completed the doctoral degree at Wyoming in 1963, 31 years after receiving his master’s degree. It has been said that those who never get out of school are known as teachers. Tim was a wonderful and innovative teacher and a researcher who pioneered work on perennial weed control with mechanical techniques and herbicides, beginning with work on 2,4-D. He became the authority who guided the work of many young weed scientists as they began work on non-crop land and aquatic weed problems. Tim was one of the creators of the North Central Weed Control Conference in 1944. He was elected a Fellow of the American Society of Agronomy in 1961 and was one of four weed scientists selected as the first Honorary Members of the Weed Society of America in 1964. He was also among the first five to receive the honorary member award of the Western Weed Control Conference in 1968. Perhaps his most distinctive contribution was a long series of newsletters he began to publish in June 1949. The first issue was sent to about 50 state, federal, and commercial weed workers that Timmons knew and had worked with. His newsletters preceded the publication of and could be regarded as encouraging the creation of the journal Weeds, which began in late 1951. The newsletters summarized weed problems, research results, new developments, and listed recent publications. By 1954 the newsletter’s mailing list had expanded to more than five hundred people in 35 states, all Canadian provinces, and 15 other countries (Appleby, 1993, pp. 163–164).
10
Much of the information on Timmons is from Humburg, N., 1989. Herbicide Handbook, sixth ed. Weed Sci. Soc. of America newsletter, Champaign, IL, p. v.
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Robert D. Sweet A name frequently seen but rarely identified as a creator of weed science is Bob Sweet, although he was present at the beginning and continually involved in weed science throughout his long career at Cornell University. He was not selected as an Original Honorary Member of WSSA and was not selected as Fellow of the society until 1974. He was never an elected officer of WSSA but was the first editor of the journal Weeds from 1951 to 1953 and the first Treasurer/Business Manager of the Society in 1953 and 1954. Sweet was the first Secretary/Treasurer of the northeastern conference and its president from 1949 to 1950. The conference met and elected new officers in early January and each served the remainder of the year of election until January of the following year. It is not illogical to propose that he was involved in creating the conference’s organizational meeting held at Cornell in 1947. He was one of two delegates appointed by the northeastern conference in the 1951 meeting to guide organization of the Association of Regional Weed Control Conferences, which began in 1949 and became a legal organization in 1951 at the third meeting. Sweet and Howard L. Yowell of Standard Oil Development were appointed as delegates of the northeastern conference to the organizational meeting of the southern weed conference in 1948. Bob Sweet was born in 1915 on a small vegetable farm in northern Ohio, just west of Cleveland. His first eight grades of education were in a one- or two-room school. After school consolidation his senior high school class had 23 students. He completed his B.S. in Education in 1936 at Ohio University at Athens with the intention of teaching vocational agriculture in Ohio. No jobs were available in 1936 and his advisor suggested he pursue an M.S. at Cornell, where he was offered an assistantship involving lettuce breeding. That degree was completed in 1938 and his Ph.D. also at Cornell, in vegetable crops, plant breeding, and plant physiology was completed in 1941. He was offered a position on the Cornell faculty in July 1940 as the Extension specialist for commercial vegetable crops, prior to completing his Ph.D. He knew that vegetable growers were desperate for hand-laborers to hoe or hand weed crops such as carrots and onions and that is why he began a career that focused on weeds. It was not uncommon for growers to feel compelled to pay for up to 200 hours per acre for hand-weeding. The advent of WWII severely decreased the availability of hand-labor from the United States and foreign labor was not available or popular in the country. Sweet learned, probably at a regional weed conference, that California carrot growers were using what was called “stove oil” to kill weeds successfully in carrots. The oil was successful as a weed killer but it tainted the carrots (a bad taste and smell) so they could not be marketed. Sweet worked with H. L. Yowell (of Standard Oil of New Jersey, later ESSO) to conduct experiments that determined that Stoddard Solvent was safe and effective. Field trials were successful in 1944 and 1945 and Stoddard Solvent
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was used by almost 100 percent of New York growers in 1946 and for many years afterward. Thus, Sweet was one of the creators of one of the first successful chemical weed control techniques that was used widely in a crop in the northeastern United States.11
Oliver Andrew Leonard O. A. Leonard was born in Pullman, Washington, on January 5, 1911. He retired from the University of California in 1974 and died in 1975. He received his B.S. and M.S. degrees from Washington State University in 1933 and 1935. His interest was in plant physiology and he moved to Iowa State College in Ames, Iowa, where he completed his Ph.D. in plant physiology in 1937 and developed a life-long interest in translocation in plants. His first academic position was as an instructor at Texas A&M College from 1937 to 1939. He was a plant physiologist with the Mississippi Agricultural Experiment Station from 1939 to 1950, where his work was on weed control in cotton. His work on translocation continued and he expanded his work to study translocation of herbicides. In 1950, Leonard joined the Botany Department of the University of California at Davis where he conducted studies on control of woody plans on rangeland and on herbicide translocation. He was among the first to investigate the use of herbicides for weed control in cotton in California and to use radioactive herbicides to study their translocation in plants. He was a plant physiologist but had the ability to blend his basic research with applied studies of weed control.
Clarence I. Seeley In 1934, Clarence Seeley became superintendent of the dry land Experiment Station at Lind, Washington.12 He joined the USDA in 1936 and worked on a bindweed control project in Genesee, Idaho. In 1947 he became an Assistant Agronomist with the Idaho Agricultural Experiment Station in Moscow. He moved to the teaching faculty of the University of Idaho as a Professor and Agronomist in 1955, where he remained until retirement in 1976. Weed research was the major focus of his 40-year career. He was not what anyone would call famous but he was well known in Idaho and the west for his work on weed control and his tireless promotion of new methods to 11
Sinox was used widely for weed control in several crops in the Pacific Northwest by the late 1930s. Personal communication, A. P. Appleby, Oregon State University. 12 Much of the information about Clarence Seeley is from Appleby, A. P., 1993. The Western Society of Weed Science 1938–1992. See pp. 161–162.
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accomplish chemical weed control in crops. He was the twelfth president of the Western Weed Control Conference and was elected a Fellow of the conference in 1975.
George Frederick Warren III 13 Fred Warren was born on a farm near Ithaca, New York on September 23, 1913; he died July 18, 1999, in West Lafayette, Indiana. His father, George Frederick Warren II (1874–1938) was a Professor of Farm Management at Cornell University. Warren Hall on the Cornell campus was named in honor of G. F. Warren II and Fred’s older brother Stanley W. Warren (1907–1994) taught farm management at Cornell (in Warren Hall) for 40 years. Fred completed his B.S. in Agriculture at Cornell in 1935 and his Ph.D., also from Cornell in 1945. His doctoral dissertation title was Studies of a rye cover crop in its relation to nitrogen, soil moisture, and the yield of certain vegetable crops. His student days at Cornell were interrupted by service in the Army Air Corps from 1942–1944. After completing his bachelor’s degree he worked for 3 years as a District County Agricultural agent in Maine. After completing his military service and his doctorate he married Ann Fusek (1916–2008) in Madison, Wisconsin on July 30, 1944. From 1945 to 1949 he was an extension specialist for soils in the Department of Horticulture at the University of Wisconsin. He moved to the Department of Horticulture at Purdue University in 1949 and retired from Purdue as Professor Emeritus in 1979. Fred Warren was one of the creators of weed science. He served as the sixth president of the Weed Society of America from 1964 to 1966. During his term several projects began that remain integral parts of the Society’s programs. A manual of operating procedures was prepared for the first time, planning for the first edition of the Herbicide Handbook was begun (It was published in July 1967, cost $3.00), the Society employment service began, and planning began for the first edition of the Society monograph series. The first monograph was published in 1982. During his tenure, the Honorary Member Award was established and given for the first time to four recipients during the 1964 meeting. The outstanding paper in the journal Weeds award was presented for the first time. He was a pioneer in weed control research who published widely. He directed the programs of 37 graduate and 11 postdoctoral students, many of whom went on to become important weed scientists. In 1968 he was honored as an Original Honorary Member of the Society (total nine). He was also a Fellow of the American Society for the Advancement of Science, the American Horticultural Society, and the North Central Weed Science Society. He served as president of the Council for Agricultural Science and Technology (CAST) 13
The information on Fred Warren has been confirmed in a personal communication (March 11, 2008) from his son, S.G. Warren of Seattle, Washington.
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from 1977–78. After he retired, Fred developed an intensive short course on herbicide action, which he participated in for 14 years. The course is still taught each summer at Purdue.
Kenneth P. Buchholtz Ken Buchholtz was born in 1915 and died in 1969. He received his undergraduate degree from Washington State College in 1938. His M.S. and doctorate in Agronomy were from the University of Wisconsin, where he remained on the faculty and began the program in weed science. He was a pioneer whose career paralleled the development and use of selective herbicides, the use of many of which was perfected in his program in Wisconsin. Many of the leaders of weed science and the Weed Science Society of America (WSSA) during the 1950s and 1960s received their education in his program in Wisconsin. Buchholtz served as the editor of the journal Weeds from 1955 to 1958. He was the fourth president of the Weed Society of America in 1960 and 1961. He was one of the first group of members to be selected as Honorary Members of the Society in 1964. The others were A. S. Crafts, F. L. Timmons, and C. J. Willard.
Ellery Louis Knake Ellery Knake was born in Gibson City, Illinois on August 26, 1927 and died March 1, 2009. He earned his B.S. (1949), M.S. (1950), and Ph.D. (1960) from the University of Illinois. He married Collen (Connie) Wilken on June 23, 1951. After completing his M.S., he taught vocational agriculture in Barrington, Illinois for 6 years. He returned to the University in 1956 as an Instructor in the Vocational Agriculture Service, a position he held until he completed his Ph.D. and became an Assistant Professor of Weed Science in the Department of Agronomy in 1960, where he remained until retirement. During his career in Illinois he received numerous honors from the university and from the Weed Science Society of America, including being president in 1974. He was intimately involved with the national and North Central Weed Science Societies (President 1971) and was a member of all the major agricultural honorary organizations. Ellery was not one of weed science’s great research scientists. He was one of the best extension scientists weed science has ever produced. He knew what was going on in weed science and it always seemed that he knew more about what was happening in most states than others did. He had a unique and enviable ability to translate the science into practical advice. He could and did extend the science to farmers as well as anyone and better than most. If one wants to become an outstanding extension worker, Knake’s career is the example to follow.
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Fred W. Slife Fred Slife was born November 6, 1923, on a farm near Milford, Illinois. 14 He graduated from Milford high school in 1941 and attended the University of Illinois for the 1941–42 academic year. He, similar to so many young men, was then compelled into military service. In 1943, he joined the U.S. Army and was sent to New York University to participate in the Army’s engineering program. Afterwards, he served about 2 years in Europe. When WWII ended, Fred returned to the University of Illinois and completed his B.S. He married Eleanor Weida on May 28, 1947, right after graduation. He continued at the University of Illinois obtaining his M.S. in 1949 and the Ph.D. in 1952. His doctoral research was on the pre-emergence use of 2,4-D in corn. After completing his doctoral work, Slife joined the faculty of the Department of Agronomy of the University of Illinois as their first weed scientist. He was promoted to Professor in 1961, a quick rise through the ranks in recognition of his excellence as a teacher and research scientist. He retired in 1985. His early research work focused on studies of the competition of the pigweeds and giant foxtail in corn. It was groundbreaking work and clarified many of the principles of weed-crop competition. He was among the leaders in beginning to study the effects of crop rotation, cultivation, and herbicides on weed-crop competition. Many weed scientists followed his lead. His work created weed management systems for Illinois crop growers that were the model for weed scientists in other states. He was the Major Professor for 49 doctoral and 45 master’s students, many of whom became leaders in the emerging field of weed science. Slife was involved with the North Central Weed Control Conference and served as the Secretary/Treasurer from 1953 when that conference hosted the first national conference of the Association of Regional Weed Control Conferences (Andersen, 1991, p. 66). He continued as Secretary/Treasurer until 1955. He became vice president in 1956, president in 1957 and an honorary member in 1971. Slife was also active in the Weed Science Society of America. He served as the unpaid treasurer/business manager from 1962 until 1975, longer than anyone else. He was president-elect in 1975 and President in 1976. The Society honored him in several ways for his long service: 1970—Fellow, 1971 and 1980—Outstanding research paper in weed science, 1973—Outstanding Teacher, 1974—Special appreciation award to Dr. and Mrs. Slife, 1986—Outstanding Research Award. He was selected as a Fellow of the American Society of Agronomy in 1969. He received the Paul A. Funk award given to outstanding faculty in the University of Illinois College of Agriculture and the American Soybean Association gave him their meritorious award in 1973. Fred Slife was an example of how to succeed as a weed scientist. 14
Much of the information on Dr. Slife is from L. W. Mitich’s, dedication, p. v in W. H. Ahrens, 1994. Herbicide Handbook, seventh ed. Weed Sci. Soc. of America newsletter, Champaign, IL, 352 pp.
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Boysie Eugene Day Boysie was born in Haile, Louisiana on September 9, 1917, and died June 5, 1988, of leukemia at his home in Point Richmond, California. He grew up in Arizona where he earned a B.S. in Range Management in 1939 and an M.S. in Plant Physiology in 1940 from the University of Arizona in Tucson. In 1940 he was commissioned a Second Lieutenant in the U.S. Army and was sent to the Pacific theater of WWII. He participated in the island hopping war that resulted in the liberation of the Philippines. He resigned his active commission as a Lieutenant Colonel in 1946 but continued to serve until 1960 in the U.S. Army reserve with the rank of Colonel. On his release from active duty he began graduate studies at the University of California, initially at Berkeley and ultimately at Davis, from which he received his Ph.D. in plant physiology under Alden Crafts in 1950. Day began his academic career as a junior plant physiologist at the University of California at Riverside, where he continued his scientific career with emphasis on the use, mode-of-action, fate in soil, and practical application of herbicides in California agriculture. He was the first to demonstrate that in sub-tropical fruit orchards, no-cultivation sustained over many years had no negative effects on yield or fruit quality and had positive effects on production costs and soil health. These results were contrary to the conventional wisdom of the times. In that time, no-tillage was a new, if not radical concept and his work made it intellectually and practically acceptable across California and eventually the nation. In 1966 he was appointed Chairman of the Department of Horticultural Science at Riverside. In 1968 he became Associate Director of the Citrus Research Center and the Agricultural Research Center; he became Director in 1970. He was intimately involved in the early stages of the organization and development of the Weed Society of America. In 1967 he was President-elect of the Weed Society of America and he became the first President of the Weed Science Society of America in 1968. In 1971 he moved to Berkeley where he became Director of the University of California Statewide Agricultural Experiment Station, a position from which he retired in 1979. He was a large man, physically and intellectually. Typical of many weed scientists of his era, he came from a farm background. He was regarded by his colleagues15 as a brilliant scholar, an outstanding military officer, and an able teacher and lecturer. He was gifted in the mechanical arts and a natural leader. He was a voracious, omnivorous reader and an raconteur. Those who had the privilege of hearing him speak were always entranced by what he said and how well he said it. For many years before his retirement, his avocation and love was sailing. He built a three-hulled sailing ship and progressed to a 41-foot auxiliary diesel sailing ship. He made 2-year-long circumnavigations of the Pacific with his wife Connie (née Everett) and a crew of family and students. 15 Much of the information on Boysie Day is from the University of California’s Web site—In memoriam, 1992. http://content.cdlib.org/xtf/view?docId hb7c6007sj&doc.view frames&chunk. id-div0001 (accessed September 2008).
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Throughout his career as a scientist and administrator he demonstrated outstanding leadership and was a tireless spokesman for the U.S. land-grant university system and the important role of weed science in agriculture.
Leroy George Holm Perhaps Dr. Holm’s parents and school friends called him Leroy, but to everyone who knew him during his weed science career, he was Whitey. He was born October 2, 1917, in Wyeville, Wisconsin, and died November 14, 2004, in Madison, Wisconsin. He completed his bachelor’s degree at the University of Wisconsin, La Crosse in 1939 and his doctorate at the University of Wisconsin, Madison in 1949. As was true for so many of his generation, his education was interrupted by service in the U.S. Army during WWII. Whitey was Professor of Horticulture at Madison from 1949 to 1971, when he retired. He was the first weed officer for the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization in Rome, Italy from, 1965–1966. After retirement from the University he remained actively involved in the world of weeds and was the senior author of three publications of enduring importance. The first (Holm et al., 1977) was the first description of the botany, location, and problems caused by the world’s worst weeds. The preface claimed that weeds were “one of the most powerful forces to be reckoned with when planning for food production; and yet, strangely, a word almost without dimension in common usage.” The research on the book covered more than a decade and its primary objective was to ask and answer the question—“How many species of plants cause 90 percent of the food losses in agriculture and what are their names?” It is a sobering thought that in spite of several preceding decades of work on weed control in many parts of the world, no one had asked the question and no one had the vaguest notion of the answer. The 1977 book provided the first comprehensive answer to the question. It listed 18 weeds of importance almost everywhere and 57 more of wide regional importance. The book also covered the distribution and biology of 16 of the world’s most important crops—the plants that feed the world. It was a book of international importance and remains so today. The second book (Holm et al., 1979) is a geographical atlas of world weeds, which described for the first time where the weeds are in the world. When weed scientists were asked to estimate how many weedy species infested the world’s crops, numbers as high as 50,000 had been proposed. The 1979 volume showed that perhaps as many as 8,000 species were weedy but only about 250 were of importance to world agriculture. The third volume (Holm et al., 1997) took almost another 20 years to complete. It documented the natural history and distribution of the world’s important weeds and ranked them in terms of their importance to world agriculture. Whitey was asked to speak to many groups about the worldwide importance of weeds and how they affected the lives of people, especially women, who did most of the weeding of crops. He was, and his many published papers ensure his reputation as a very effective spokesperson for the importance of weeds to
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agriculture and to the developing world. His was an eloquent scientific voice that described in poetic, experiential metaphors the importance of weeds in the lives of people. No one has taken his place. I remember having the privilege of visiting his home in Madison where he took me not to his study, but to the basement. It was quite literally full of the publications about weeds from all over the world that Whitey and his co-authors used to create their books.
William R. Furtick Bill Furtick was born in Salina, Kansas, on January 8, 1927, and died in San Luis Obispo, California, on May 16, 2007. He completed his undergraduate education at Kansas State University in 1949. His master’s and doctoral degrees were done at Oregon State University in 1952 and 1958. He remained on the staff at Oregon State where he was Professor of Weed Science until 1972. Those who knew Bill knew him as a man of seemingly boundless energy and a virtual flood of new ideas. He created and became the first director of Oregon State’s International Plant Protection Center, which became widely known for innovation in weed control research. He left Oregon in late 1971 to establish an agricultural research center in Taiwan. He moved from Taiwan to become Director of the Plant Protection Division of the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) in Rome, Italy. He left FAO to become Dean of Agriculture at the University of Hawaii and then he became the Director for Food and Agriculture in the U.S. Agency for International Development’s Bureau for Science and Technology. During his career he visited all but five of the world’s countries. He was President of the Weed Science Society of America in 1966 when he was 39 years old. He was also President of the Western Society of Weed Science and a fellow of both societies. During his distinguished career he was always first a weed scientist, who, in the view of his staff and students, “had more ideas before breakfast than anyone else has in a year” (quoted in the September 2007, WSSA Newsletter, p. 7). He was the featured speaker and guest of honor at the eighth British Weed Control Conference in Brighton, U.K. and gave an invited address to the National Research Council of the National Academy of Science. The Association of Western Agricultural Experiment Station Directors awarded him the title of Director Emeritus in recognition of his leadership and service to agriculture. Throughout his weed science and administrative careers, he was an innovator of new weed management techniques and evaluation methods. He was, in the true sense of the words, a mover and shaker.
Donald E. Davis Don Davis was a Professor of Agronomy at Auburn University, Auburn, Alabama, for many years. His graduate work prepared him to be a plant physiologist, the discipline he continued at Auburn. His career path was similar
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to many who began weed science. He was not trained as a weed scientist and began to study weeds after he became a Professor. He was the editor of Weed Science for three years, a Fellow of the Society, and one of the creators of the Society endowment fund. He was President of the Weed Science Society of America in 1981. Soon after he began his career at Auburn, Dow Chemical’s Premerge became the herbicide of choice to control broadleaf weeds in cotton. It was successful for about 3 years; then it began to kill a lot of cotton. Dow offered a grant of $10,000 to find out why, and Davis accepted the physiological assignment. He found the reason was the use rate was too high. A rate of one third than recommended worked well in bands over the row. The chemical’s volatility in the warm southern states was also a problem. The work intrigued Davis and he soon became a full-time weed physiologist. Davis’ story is similar to that of many of the early weed scientists. Their graduate work was in agronomy, botany, plant physiology, or a related field and they became involved with weeds because there were interesting problems to work on, employment was available in the academic or industrial communities, or a graduate mentor encouraged them to enter the new field.
Chester Gray McWhorter Chester McWhorter was born in Decatur, Mississippi, on May 3, 1927, and died in Decatur on June 17, 2003. He was, to all who knew him, a southern gentleman and a distinguished weed scientist. He served in the U.S. Navy in 1945 and 1946. After his discharge from the Navy, he attended East Central Junior College (now East Central Community College) in Decatur. He completed his B.S. (1951) and his M.S. (1952) in Agronomy at Mississippi State University. His weed science career began at the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s Agricultural Research Service (ARS) Delta Branch Experiment Station in Stoneville, Mississippi in 1952. In 1956, he took leave from ARS and moved to Louisiana State University to complete a Ph.D. in Plant Physiology. In 1958, he returned to Stoneville and ARS. He became an international authority on the biology, ecology, taxonomy, physiology, and control of johnsongrass, a major world weed and an important weed throughout the south. Some weed scientists may be able to claim publication of more than 200 articles in refereed journals or as technical publications during their career, but few can also claim that their work was pioneering and innovative. McWhorter probably would have denied such appellations but his colleagues all agree. He was the Director of the Southern Weed Laboratory from 1975 to 1987 when he requested a return to a research position. In 1990 he created and led the Application Technology Research unit at Stoneville, which he guided until his retirement in 1992. McWhorter gracefully spanned the gap between basic and applied weed research and his work is still reflected in weed management techniques used throughout the southern states. His work led to
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the discovery that surfactants and other adjuvants increased herbicide activity and improved selectivity and safety. The use of dinitroaniline herbicides expanded significantly because of his discovery of the ability to selectively control rhizome and seed generated johnsongrass in soybeans when dinitroanilines were properly applied. McWhorter’s research group invented the recirculating sprayer, herbicide application in foam and in wax bars, subsurface application of herbicides in soil with a subsurface blade, and soil injection of herbicides. During his career he served as President of the Weed Science Society of America and the Southern Weed Science Society. He is a member of the USDAARS Hall of Fame and was USDA’s Distinguished Research Scientist in 1989.
Fanny Fern Davis Some may notice that the opening paragraph of this chapter speaks of the men who founded weed science. Women are not mentioned because there were none involved in weed science in the early years. Fanny Davis worked for the U.S. Golf Association greens section at Beltsville, Maryland. She knew of the work on selective control of dandelions in turf with 2,4-D and began extensive studies with 2,4-D in August and September 1944. In October she reported spectacular results from treating clover in golf course turf where untreated plots contained 80 percent clover and treated plots contained less than 1 percent, with no harm to the grass (Kirby, 1980, p. 41). She was among the first to direct a program to develop practical, selective weed control with 2,4-D. Mrs. Davis received special recognition as the “First Lady of Weed Science” from President Warren Shaw at the annual meeting of the Weed Science Society of America in 1979 (Appleby, 2006, p. 19). Biographical information on several other weed scientists should be included in this chapter. Important founders of weed science include Walter Ball of California, Virgil Freed of Oregon, Gideon Hill of the DuPont Corporation, Glenn Klingman of North Carolina and later of Elanco Inc., and T. F. Yost of Kansas. Unfortunately, the story of each of these men, all of whom are now deceased, was never recorded and therefore, they cannot be included. There are many active weed scientists who are making significant contributions to the discipline, but I have chosen not to include them in this book.
References Andersen, R.N., 1991. The North Central Weed Control Conference: Origin and Evolution. North Central Weed Science Society, Champaign, IL, 206 pp. Appleby, A.P., 1993. The Western Society of Weed Science, 1938–1992. West. Soc. Weed Sci., Newark, CA, 177 pp. Appleby, A.P., 2006. Weed Science Society of America—Origin and evolution—the first 50 years. Weed Sci. Soc. Am., Lawrence, KS, 63 pp.
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Crafts, A.S., 1935. Physiological problems connected with the use of sodium chlorate in weed control. Plant Physiol. 10, 699–711. Crafts, A.S., 1975. Modern weed control. University Of California Press, Berkeley, CA, 440 pp. Crafts, A.S., 1985. Reviews of Weed Science—Dr. Alden S. Crafts. Rev. Weed Sci. 1, iv. Crafts, A.S., Robbins, W.W., 1962. Weed Control—A Textbook and Manual, third ed. McGraw-Hill Book Company, Inc., New York, NY, 660 pp. Holm, L.G., Plucknett, D.L., Pancho, J.V., Herberger, J.P., 1977. The world’s worst weeds: distribution and biology An East-West Center book. University of Hawaii Press, Honolulu, HI, 609 pp. Holm, L.G., Pancho, J.V., Herberger, J.P., Plucknett, D.L., 1979. A Geographical Atlas of World Weeds. Wiley Interscience, J. Wiley & Sons, New York, NY, 391 pp. Holm, L.G., Doll, J.D., Holm, E., Pancho, J.V., Herberger, J.P., 1997. World Weeds: Natural Histories and Distribution. J. Wiley & Sons, New York, NY, 1129 pp. Kennedy, P.B., Crafts, A.S., 1927. The application of physiological methods to weed control. Plant Physiol. 2, 503–506. King, L.J., 1966. Weeds of the World: Biology and Control. Interscience Pub., Inc., New York, NY, 526 pp. Kirby, C., 1980. The Hormone Weedkillers. British Crop Protection Council, Croydon, UK, 55 pp. Muenscher, W.C., 1935. Weeds. The Macmillan Co., New York, NY, 577 pp. Norman, A.G., Minarik, C.E., Weintraub, R.L., 1950. Herbicides. Annu. Rev. Plant Physiol. 1, 141–168. Robbins, W.W., Bellue, M.K., Ball, W.S., 1941. Weeds of California. California State Department of Agriculture, Sacramento, CA, 491 pp. Robbins, W.W., Crafts, A.S., Raynor, R.N., 1942. Weed Control—A Textbook and Manual. McGraw-Hill Book Company, Inc, New York, NY, 543 pp. Robbins, W.W., Crafts, A.S., Raynor, R.N., 1952. Weed Control—A Textbook and Manual. McGraw-Hill Book Company, Inc, New York, NY, 503 pp. Shaw, W.C., 1964. Weed science: revolution in agricultural technology. Weeds 12, 153–162. Shaw, W.C., 1984. The new weed science—a view of the 21st century. Proc. West Soc. Weed Sci. 37, 8–29. Zimdahl, R.L., 2002. The President said. Weed Sci. 50, 14–25. Zimdahl, R.L., 2007. Fundamentals of Weed Science, third ed. Academic Press, San Diego, CA, 666 pp.
5 Creation and development of university weed science programs One of the important steps that support the creation of any university teaching program is the availability of appropriate textbooks. While it is true that weed control research began long before 2,4-D was introduced, there were no textbooks until much later. Perhaps the earliest book on the weeds, their control, and basic biology was by Winifred Brenchley (1920) in the U.K. The first U.S. book that dealt exclusively with weeds was a weed identification book (Muenscher, 1935), not a textbook. Muenscher was Professor of Botany and a taxonomist at Cornell University. The first edition of his book, Weeds, identified 500 weeds. The second edition (Muenscher, 1955) included the original 500 and 71 new weeds. Both books were primarily identification manuals with secondary emphasis on control. The books discussed dissemination and importance of weeds, weeds of special habitats, and weed control. The second edition omitted discussion of chemical control because, in Muenscher’s view, it had become more complex and deserved a book of its own, rather than partial coverage in an identification book. In 1941, a similar identification book, Weeds of California, was published (Robbins et al., 1941). One of the earliest publications on weed control was a bulletin of the North Dakota Agricultural experiment station that described eight weedy members of the mustard family and gave some advice on their extermination (Waldron, 1892). The first edition of Martin’s (1928) Scientific Principles of Plant Protection, included a five-page chapter on weed killers. Copper sulfate, ferrous sulfate, sulfuric acid, and kainit(KCl·MgSO4·3H2O) were the only weed control chemicals included. The second edition, published in 1936, and the third in 1940 (reprinted in 1944 and 1948), were similar. The fourth edition (Martin, 1959) included 2,4-D, carbamates, heterocyclic nitrogen compounds, substituted ureas, trichloroacetic acids, dalapon, and several miscellaneous herbicides that were unknown to previous editions. To the best of my knowledge, the first edition of the Weed Control Handbook (Anonymous, 1958) published by the British Weed Control Council, appeared in 1958 (second ed., 1960). It was followed by several subsequent editions, none of which were textbooks. Each was a handbook designed to assist farmers and weed managers with the latest information on weed control techniques. A one-credit course, Weed Eradication, one of the first college classes about weeds, was taught in the Agronomy department of Oregon Agricultural College (now Oregon State University) in 1911–1912 by Henry Scudder, the Department Head.1 The class has changed over the years but a course on weeds 1
Appleby, A. P., Personal communication, Oregon State University, November 2007.
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has been taught at Oregon State every year since then (Appleby, 1999). Timmons (1970) reported that Oregon began a weed control class in 1936 and Virgil Freed taught a course on weed control in Oregon in the early 1940s. One of the early courses on weeds was taught in Washington State in 1915; others did not appear until the 1930s (Dunham, 1973; Timmons, 1970). Other early weed science courses began in Montana, Ontario, Canada, and Utah in 1922; New Hampshire 1928; North Dakota 1931; Kansas 1938; and California in 1940 (Timmons, 1970). Most U.S. states now have one or more courses on weed science, weed ecology, and related subjects. Nearly all state land-grant institutions now grant M.S. and Ph.D. degrees in weed science. Crafts’ unpublished history of the western weed control conference 1936–1954 notes that W. W. Robbins of California surveyed instruction on weeds and weed control in eleven western states and Hawaii (Table 1, p. 160). Of these twelve states, only Arizona, Colorado, Hawaii, and New Mexico did not have a course on weeds in 1950. Each of the other states had at least one course, and California and Washington had two. Robbins concluded that there was a growing interest in weeds and weed control at college and secondary levels and a trend toward establishing specific instruction on weeds, rather than having it be a “relatively insignificant part of other production courses.” The classes were moving from primary emphasis on weed identification to inclusion of “control methods based on botany, chemistry, soils, crops and engineering.” Robbins concluded that the “day is not far off when research and instruction in weeds and weed control will have the recognition and status now enjoyed by research and instruction in entomology and plant pathology.” A more recent survey (Derr, 2004) revealed that Robbins’ optimistic view has not been borne out. Derr reports that among fifteen northeastern U.S. universities, weed science courses offered, number of graduate students, and number of faculty were all significantly lower than in entomology and plant pathology. Kuhns and Harpster (1997) reported similar results from a survey of “fifteen top universities in the country for each discipline.” The top universities averaged three positions in weed science, two undergraduate courses and three graduate courses, far below the average for entomology and plant pathology. The first extension weed specialist in the United States, Linden Harris, was appointed in Oregon in 1936 (Dunham, 1973; Appleby, personal communication, 20082). By 1963, seventeen U.S. states had full-time weed extension specialists and eighty-nine specialists devoted part-time to weeds (Dunham, 1973). Now, most states have at least one extension specialist who concentrates on weeds and their control. The primary objective of the first weed science textbook, Weed Control— A Textbook and Manual (Robbins et al., 1942), was not identification. It was 2
It is interesting to note that Linden Harris was elected President of the Western Weed Control Conference in 1944 but resigned the summer after his election because he had accepted a job with Chipman Chemical Co. and it was not acceptable for an industrial employee to be President. Richard Fosse of AmChem Products was the first President from the chemical industry in 1959 (his term was 1960–62), 20 years after the conference was created.
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“to assemble and review critically the various methods of weed control, including the results of recent investigations.” It included nearly 300 pages (55 percent) on methods of chemical control. It was followed by a second edition (Robbins et al., 1952), a third (Crafts and Robbins, 1962) and a fourth, major revision (Crafts, 1975). The first of five editions of a book well known among weed scientists, Principles of Weed Control, was written by a Professor at Rutgers University in New Jersey in cooperation with a colleague at North Carolina State University, and a third from the duPont Corporation (Ahlgren et al., 1951). The next version (Klingman, 1961) was followed by the third edition (Klingman and Ashton, 1975) and a fourth by the same authors in 1982. The fifth version (Ashton and Monaco) appeared in 1991. The book is the longest continual publication of any weed science text. One of the early and well done books on weeds and their control from a world perspective, Weeds of the World—Biology and Control, was written by a relatively unknown Professor of Biology at State University College, a small institution in Geneseo, New York (King, 1966). It never achieved great popularity or adoption as a textbook but remains a valuable reference work and is, in my view, the most complete story of the early study of weeds. Other than King’s (1966) book and the 1951 book by Ahlgren and associates, all of the early U.S. weed science textbooks, those published in other countries (see Alström, 1990, p. 173), and those written more recently devote more than a third of their content to herbicides and chemical weed control. In general, non-chemical weed control is mentioned but only as an introduction to the major weed control technique—herbicides. Textbooks published in Africa (1) or India (3) devote 45–75 percent of their pages to herbicides (Alström, 1990, p. 173). Table V-1 illustrates the dominance of herbicides among weed scientists and in their teaching by comparing the number of pages devoted to herbicides and chemical weed control in seventeen textbooks published between 1942 and 2007. Herbicides and chemical weed control have shaped weed science and have in large measure been responsible for most of its achievements and many of its problems. By the mid-twentieth century, insect, plant disease, and rodent pest problems had interested scientists for more than a century. In the United States, more than a thousand entomologists had been studying insect life histories for several years and a similar number of plant pathologists had been exploring the causal agents and cures for plant diseases (Dunham, 1973). Weeds and their effects were not of great interest to many scientists. In 1930 there were only three full-time weed specialists in the United States (Dunham, 1973). Kephart (1947) of the USDA commented that “weed control is one of the last great problems of agricultural production to receive the attention of biological science.” He added that “for all practical purposes in 1930 we knew scarcely more about weed control than had been known to every good farmer for centuries.” There may have been about one hundred full-time weed specialists in the United States in 1947 (Kephart, 1947). One must assume that university weed science
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Table V-1 The percentage of pages devoted to herbicides and chemical weed control in seventeen weed science textbooks Author(s) and year of publication
Percent of pages devoted to herbicides
Robbins et al. (1942)
43
Ahlgren et al. (1951)
19
Klingman (1961)
41
Crafts and Robbins (1962)
60
King (1966)
23
Muzik (1970)
40
Crafts (1975)
54
Klingman and Ashton (1975)
54
Klingman and Ashton (1982)
53
Anderson (1983)
52
Ross and Lembi (1985)
31
Ashton and Monaco (1991)
71
Zimdahl (1993)
37
Anderson (1996)
49
Ross and Lembi (1999)
68
Zimdahl (1999)
34
Zimdahl (2007)
29
programs were created at least partially because of farmer demand as well as intellectual interest by university faculty. Wiest (1923) provides what he called “a scientific and unbiased analysis of the forms, functions, causes, and effects of public and private agricultural organization in America.” His is an excellent, detailed history of the development of agricultural education and organization in the United States and interested readers are referred to his work for details beyond the scope of this book. It is generally assumed by agricultural faculty in U.S. universities that agricultural education began in the university. Wiest (1923, p. 187) disagrees and suggests agricultural education originated in agricultural societies, which began in the late eighteenth century. The first was founded in Philadelphia (then the nation’s capital) in 1785 and included George Washington and Benjamin Franklin among its members. The first course in agricultural science was offered at Columbia College in New York in 1792. In 1794, a committee appointed by the Philadelphia Agricultural Society developed a plan “for establishing a State Society for the promotion of agriculture.” The committee proposed agricultural professorships be endowed at the University of Pennsylvania, the College at Carlisle, and elsewhere” (Wiest, 1923, p. 187).
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The war of 1812 between the United States and England nearly eliminated interest in the national pursuit of agricultural education. Between 1823 and 1850, a number of agricultural schools of what Wiest (1923, p. 190) terms secondary level were established in New York, Connecticut, and Maine. In 1846, Yale College appointed John P. Norton as Professor of agricultural chemistry and vegetable and animal physiology. In 1848, Yale offered teacher training in these subjects. Long before the Morrill Act was passed, the federal government made landgrants to States “to aid common schools and to endow state universities” (Carstensen, 1962). Much of the motivation for legislative action in the 1860s came from wealthy farmers and journalists (Busch, 1982). The first agricultural college was organized in Michigan 1857 just outside the current city of Lansing. The Michigan constitution adopted in 1850 required the state to provide “for the establishment of an agricultural school for agriculture and the natural sciences connected therewith” (Wiest, 1923, p. 190). The school began with sixtyone students and five professors. The Farmer’s High School of Pennsylvania was organized as Pennsylvania State College in 1859. The legislature of Maryland organized the Maryland Agricultural College in 1856. It opened in 1859. John Delafield, a retired banker and a graduate of Columbia College, was influential in New York State in passing the 1853 state legislation that established an agricultural college and created a Board of Trustees but the legislature did not provide any funds. The college was to be located on Mr. Delafield’s farm in the town of Fayette, New York. Mr. Delafield died in 1853 and nothing came of his efforts. Fifteen miles south of Fayette in the town of Ovid, plans for a college actually came to fruition when a few buildings were built and a college opened in 1860 as the New York State Agricultural College. The beginning of the Civil War ended the college and the buildings reverted to the state and became an insane asylum. The college opened again as the Department of Agriculture in 1874 as part of Cornell University. It became the College of Agriculture in 1888 and the New York State College of Agriculture in 1904. There seemed to be great support among progressive farmers in all states for agricultural education and agricultural colleges in the mid- to late-1800s. Few of the colleges established prior to the Morrill Act achieved the expectations of farmers or politicians and their failure gave impetus to those in favor of the Morrill Act. Maryland, Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Iowa had created colleges of agriculture before 1862 when the Morrill Act was passed by the U.S. Congress and signed into law by President Lincoln. It is generally and incorrectly assumed that Senator Justin S. Morrill of Vermont originated the plan for creation of land-grant colleges in each state. Wiest (1923, p. 193) cites an article written by Edmund James (1910), the President of the University of Illinois, in which James gives credit for the idea to Professor Jonathan Baldwin Turner who taught at Illinois College in Jacksonville, Illinois, from 1833 to 1848. Turner had studied at Yale and was a farmer in Illinois as well as a teacher. According to Wiest (1923, p. 193): In 1851 in order to head off a movement to divide a fund amounting to about $150,000 and known as the college and seminary fund, among the private
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colleges in the state of Illinois, the farmers by public notice at county fairs and in the press were called to meet in convention to consider “such measures as might be deemed most expedient to further the interests of the agricultural community, and particularly to take steps toward the establishment of an agricultural university.” Professor Turner was the leading spirit of the convention and drew up resolutions asking that an industrial university be established in each state of the Union and especially in the State of Illinois.
Two more conventions were held in 1852 and a fourth in January 1853 where a petition was drafted to be approved by the Illinois legislature and forwarded to the U.S. Congress: … for the purpose of obtaining a grant of public lands to establish and endow industrial institutions in each and every State in the Union.
By 1855 when Justin Morrill first appeared as a member of the U.S. House of Representatives, Professor Turner’s plan had been discussed throughout the country and Morrill, although not the originator of the plan, became its champion in the U.S. Congress. Morrill was born in Strafford, Vermont on April 10, 1810, the eldest of what became a family of ten children. His father was a blacksmith and the family was poor. Justin attended school briefly but left at age 14 to work in a store for $30 per year for the first year and $40 for the second. He moved to Maine but returned to become a partner with his former employer. He did well in business, bought a farm, married, and was a respected member of his community. In 1854, friends suggested him as a candidate for the U.S. House of Representatives and he began his first term in December 1855. He served 12 years in the House and in 1867 became one of Vermont’s Senators, a position he held for 32 years. Professor Turner selected Morrill to champion his idea in Congress and although Morrill is given the credit for the act which bears his name, it was Turner’s idea that created the Morrill Act. The idea of using public land to support education had been common practice from the earliest colonial days (Wilson and Fane, 1966, p. 4). The proposal to make it a nationwide program was new. Morrill introduced his bill (the Land-Grant bill) in 1857 at the beginning of his second term in the House. The majority report on the bill was unfavorable. It was passed in the House by a five-vote margin in 1858. In 1859 it was introduced in the Senate, where it was vigorously opposed by southern Senators who regarded it as an attempt by the federal government to tell each state what it had to do with its own land. The bill violated what southern Senators saw as State’s rights. The bill passed the Senate by a margin of three votes but was vetoed by President James Buchanan (a native of Pennsylvania and the only U.S. president who never married) ostensibly because it was too expensive and unconstitutional. Buchanan allegedly also faced pressure from southern Senators and Representatives who were opposed to the bill. It was
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re-introduced by Senator Wade of Ohio in 1862 and passed 32 to 7. It was signed into law by President Lincoln on July 2, 1862 in the midst of and largely due to the Civil War and the absence of southern Senators and thus their opposition. Relieved of the opposition of southern Senators, the Republican majority in the Congress passed the Morrill Act and two other significant pieces of legislation that, while not specifically agricultural, had major effects on agriculture. The first was the Homestead Act, which promised 160 acres of free public land mainly in the west to anyone who settled on the land for at least 5 years. The second was the Pacific Railroad Act, which provided funds for construction of the first transcontinental railroad and greatly affected western agricultural development. The Morrill Act did several things. 1. Each state received a grant of 30,000 acres of federal land for each Senator and Representative, excluding mineral lands. The largest land appropriated was 990,000 acres in New York. The total land allocation to all states was 10,929,215 acres. 2. In states with no public land, scrip was issued that represented claims to public land that lay elsewhere (e.g., Rhode Island received the benefit of 120,000 acres of land sold in Kansas). The scrip was to be sold and the proceeds were to be properly invested. The recipient state could sell the scrip or locate, claim, and sell the land authorized. No state could permanently hold land outside its borders to protect states from extending their borders or setting up enclaves in another state. 3. Expenses involved with the management and sale of the land were to be paid by each state and not deducted from the proceeds of sale. 4. The proceeds were to be invested in “stocks of the United States or of the States, or some safe stocks, yielding not less than five per centum upon the par value of the stock.” The proceeds were to be invested in a perpetual fund, the interest of which was to be appropriated by each State, “which may take the claim and benefit of this act, to the endowment, support, and maintenance of at least one college where the leading object shall be, without excluding, other scientific and classical studies, and including military tactics, to teach such branches of learning, as are related to agriculture, and the mechanic arts, in such manner as the Legislatures of the States may respectively prescribe, in order to promote the liberal and practical education of the industrial classes in the several pursuits and professions in life.” 5. The States were responsible for maintaining the funds invested. The act allowed expenditure of up to 10 percent for purchase of college sites and experimental farms but prohibited the use of the funds for construction of buildings or building maintenance. Finally, the act required States that take advantage of the act to provide at least one college within 5 years. States in rebellion against the United States were excluded from benefitting from the act while in rebellion.
In some cases the funds were assigned to private, existing institutions: for example, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), Amherst College in Massachusetts, and Cornell in New York. MIT and Cornell continue to receive land-grant funds; Amherst does not (Carstensen, 1962). The Iowa Agricultural College was created by Iowa’s legislature in 1858 and by action of the legislature on September 11, 1862, Iowa became the first state to accept the provisions of the Morrill Act. Iowa also was the first state to begin an agricultural
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extension effort when Perry G. Holden hosted a farmer’s institute at Hull, Iowa, in 1903. Dartmouth, Yale, and Rutgers were also involved in the Morrill Act but only the latter succeed in creating an agricultural college. Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island, was the land-grant college in Rhode Island from 1863 to 1894. Rhode Island was the first state with no public lands within its borders to reply to the government’s offer. The Rhode Island General Assembly of 1863 authorized the governor to accept and receive the funds from the sale of 120,000 acres of land in Kansas (in Kansas!) under the terms and conditions of the Morrill Act and assigned the funds to Brown University. The state legislature transferred the title and funds to the Rhode Island College of Agriculture and Mechanic Arts in Kingston, Rhode Island in 1892. Later it became the University of Rhode Island (Wilson and Fane, 1966, pp. 3–4). The political machinations were intense. Brown University tried to acquire the agricultural college but its efforts failed when the legislature killed Brown’s attempts on May 4, 1892. Three other minor provisions were included in the first Morrill Act. The second Morrill Act was passed in 1890 to give further aid to colleges ($25,000 per year) established under it. The Nelson Amendment of March 4, 1907, increased the annual appropriation to each state to $50,000 per year. The second Morrill Act provided that states must extend benefits to “colored students.” Under these three acts, the federal government made and continues to make appropriations to each State for its land-grant college. For many years, the land-grant agricultural colleges did not fulfill the mission for which they were created. In fact, most failed. The primary goal seemed to have been the creation of a modern farmer who would be a better and more efficient manager of farm resources (Campbell et al., 1999, p. 91). No one knew exactly how to do this. The land-grant colleges did not fail for lack of trying but for a range of several understandable reasons.3 1. The creation of new agricultural colleges in each state was a radical departure and although the creators knew what they intended, the purposes, rationale, and methods were not clear to all citizens and inevitable mistakes and poor communication with the public led to doubt by supporters and opposition of enemies. 2. Many saw the whole enterprise as absurd primarily because of the opponents’ surety that mixing education and industry (the mechanic arts) was impossible. It was not unusual to hear that the claim that “book learning” was not the proper or even a feasible way to learn how to farm. 3. There was special and clear opposition from those in liberal arts colleges (the classicists) who never saw education as having any applied purpose. Education was based on study of the classics and prepared men (and a few women) for the learned professions in the church, law, or medicine. To create educational institutions 3
These reasons were enumerated by Dean Emeritus Eugene Davenport (1913) of the University of Illinois College of Agriculture in an address published in the Proceedings of the 26th Annual Convention of the Association of American Agricultural Colleges and Experiment Stations held in Atlanta, Georgia, in 1912. Free Press Printing Co., Burlington, VT., 26, 156–166, 1913. Also see Wiest (1923, pp. 207–208).
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4.
5.
6.
7.
69
specifically designed to teach practical things was antithetical to the purpose of higher education. Land-grant institutions would lower educational standards and commercialize education, which should not be allowed. This is a problem that many argue exists today. Most land-grant institutions give a prominent place to applied research in the physical and biological sciences and in engineering, with neglect of the humanities. The reasons for this emphasis are clear. All academic institutions need outside funds to exist. Those funds, while not abundant, are more available in science and engineering than in the humanities. Thus, acquiescence to the well-defined needs of funding agencies in the interest of national defense or business development and income from patents is understandable, but does make one sanguine about the future of liberal arts education in land-grant institutions. The opposite reaction came from farmers for whom the land-grant institution was designed to assist. The essence of their objection resonates today. There is little justification for those who learned about farming from books to believe they can teach those who acquired farming knowledge and ability from the experience of doing and from the generations that preceded him or her on the land how to farm. Farmers often thought of education as a way to lure their sons to escape from the farm. The few students who were attracted to the land-grant college were also discouraged because they were required to work on the institution’s farm as part of their learning. They had to pay to attend the school. A significant problem and a frequent reason for failure was that those who taught did not have a body of knowledge to teach. In addition and equally important, there were no trained teachers. There was little to teach and few to do it. A landgrant institution could hire a scientist (usually a chemist) who knew little, if anything, about agriculture to teach agriculture or a good farmer who had no teaching experience could be hired. There were few textbooks and little recorded research from which one could create a body of teachable knowledge. Education was classical with emphasis on what we now call the liberal arts. Science was only beginning to obtain a place in the academy. In the 1870s, the Michigan Agricultural College had the largest chemical laboratory and the most instruction in chemistry of any institution west of Harvard College. There was no agricultural science or an agricultural research system that asked questions about and stimulated improvement in the practice of agriculture. In the academy, science had a poor reputation and agricultural science, if available, was regarded as nearly illegitimate. Agriculture in the nineteenth century and before was a handicraft in which farmers knew how to farm their land because they had done it and science was not involved and looked upon with suspicion. That does not mean farmers always farmed well. A crucial objection, supported by little empirical evidence, but in retrospect surely true, was that the colleges were very successful at training young men (in the early days, all students were men) to leave the farm and find a job in business, often a farm-related business. The essence of the objection was that the colleges were not truthful. Their hidden objection was that agricultural instruction was simply a façade designed to persuade impressionable young men that a better future lay elsewhere. However, in the early days most students returned to the farm. Finally, a familiar problem became apparent—effective agricultural instruction was going to be expensive, more expensive than its supporters had anticipated. More money for people and material was required and the public was the source. In the nineteenth century, as now, many objected to higher taxes to support an enterprise that they thought was unnecessary.
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Nevertheless, the Morrill Act of 1862 and the subsequent acts mentioned above succeeded “in promoting the education of the industrial classes in the several pursuits of life.” It succeeded “in promoting a sound and prosperous agriculture and rural life as indispensable to … national prosperity and security.” It was a magnificent initiative and an educational venture of unprecedented scope. It is not wrong to claim as Wiest (1923, pp. 216–217) does that the land-grant program, “marks the beginning of one of the most comprehensive, far-reaching, and one might almost say, grandiose schemes for the endowment of higher education ever adopted by any civilized nation.” Most land-grant institutions began as agricultural and mechanical colleges (A&Ms); only a few retain that designation. Most have grown to become major universities with broad educational and research programs that extend well beyond their agricultural origin. A few (e.g., the Massachusetts Institute of Technology) are now dominantly engineering institutions with no agricultural program. Land in the nineteenth century was cheap and abundant with perhaps an average value of only $1.15 per acre (Large, 2003, p. 257). It was so cheap and abundant that it was treated poorly and farmed to exhaustion as farmers could then move on to what was thought of as the endless frontier. Farming on much of the land was not husbandry; it was exploitation. It was what Large (2003, p. 139) termed “a reckless, improvident, and half-barbaric skinning and stripping of the land.” Land-grant colleges did much to change how agriculture was practiced. It is worthy of note and consistent with the emphasis of this book that, weeds, weed control, and weed management were not included when land-grant colleges began. In 1862, the U.S. Congress also created the U.S. Department of Agriculture, which marked the beginning of organized interest in and research on the control of insects and plant diseases. It was not the first time the importance of agriculture had been recognized. In his final message to Congress on December 7, 1796, President Washington addressed both houses of Congress and said (Wiest, 1923, pp. 22–23): It will not be doubted that, with reference to individual or national welfare, agriculture is of primary importance. In proportion as nations advance in population and other circumstances of maturity this truth becomes more apparent, and renders the cultivation of soil more and more an object of public patronage.
States recognized the wisdom of Washington’s advice by establishing state boards of agriculture. The House of Representatives created a committee on agriculture in 1820 and the Senate followed in 1825. But it was May 15, 1862 (before the Morrill act was signed), when the Congress was able to create a Department of Agriculture (USDA). It was a generally popular idea but it had taken 66 years for Washington’s advice to become legislation. The act’s objective was to establish a department of the Federal government whose duty “shall be to acquire and to diffuse among the people of the United States
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useful information on subjects connected with agriculture in the most general and comprehensive sense of that word, and to procure, propagate, and distribute among agriculturalists new and valuable seeds and plants.” By 1898, when the USDA established the Office of Foreign Seed and Plant Introduction, the government was distributing more than 20 million packages of seed to farmers each year. The first state agricultural experiment stations were created in 1975 in Connecticut and California by state legislation and appropriations. Over the next several years, several other states established experiment stations (Campbell et al., 1999, p. 180). Some were funded by the state and some had additional private funding. State experiment stations were established by the Federal Hatch Act of 1887. William H. Hatch, a Congressman from Missouri, saw his proposal as a way to make U.S. agriculture more competitive in world markets. The Hatch Act was intended to establish and maintain a permanent, effective U.S. agricultural industry through the provision of federal funds to create an experiment station associated with the land-grant college of agriculture in each state. It was signed into law on March 2, 1887, by President Grover Cleveland. The Hatch Act was favored by “urban elites to provide a conservative response to demands of populist farmers and to keep food prices down in urban centers” (Busch, 1982). Urban elites thought agricultural experiment stations would deflect the demands of discontented farmers. If the experimental work was successful, and no one was sure it would be, it would keep food prices low and weaken demands of urban workers for higher wages (Busch, 1982). Busch also points out that wealthy farmers supported the Hatch Act because it passed the cost of agricultural research from them to the state. Research, if it was successful, would benefit the wealthier, early adopters whose yields and profits would increase at the expense of other farmers, while the costs of developing innovations were borne by the state (Busch, 1982). The cost of inevitable research failures would also not be borne by innovators but by the state. Much of the discussion about the Hatch Act prior to its passage focused on a debate that continues today—was the purpose of experiment stations to do original research or to provide practical information to farmers? There was never much concern over whether or not it was legitimate for the federal and state governments to sponsor research that would directly benefit farmers. The benefits of the research were to redound to all farmers and family farms that were looked upon with favor and regarded as entitled to some benefit from public funds. The Hatch Act led to the eventual proposal and passage of the Smith–Lever act of 1914 that created the Cooperative Extension service in all states. The act was named after U.S. Senator Hoke Smith of Georgia and Representative Asbury F. Lever of South Carolina. It was first proposed by Lever and adopted by Smith as the Senate and final version. It was signed into law by President Woodrow Wilson. At least 5 years of wrangling preceded its signing because there was little agreement on how extension was to be conducted and what the established role of the USDA in demonstrations was to be. The dispute was resolved when
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A History of Weed Science in the United States
the U.S. Secretary of Agriculture, James Houston, brought the USDA and landgrant universities together to discuss how extension was to be conducted. The Act’s purpose was to establish a system of cooperative extension services, connected to the land-grant universities, to inform people about current developments in agriculture, home economics, and related subjects. The appropriation for cooperative extension is shared between the states based on a formula. Without giving all the details, which are available elsewhere, the formula allocates 20 percent to be shared by all states in equal proportions, 40 percent shared in the proportion that the rural population of each bears to the total rural population of the several states as determined by the census, and 40 percent shared in the proportion that the farm population of each bears to the total farm population of the several states as determined by the census. Except for the 1994 Land-Grant Colleges for Native Americans Act, each state must match allocated federal cooperative extension funds. An amount no less than 6 percent of the total Smith-Lever Act appropriation is granted for the extension programs of the 1890 land-grant colleges (the historically black colleges). University and agricultural college faculty supported the establishment of cooperative extension primarily because the faculty saw extension as a way to expand the scope of their research and teaching endeavors and avoid or diminish the often time-consuming task of dealing with farmers’ questions (Busch, 1982). Left in their “ivory towers,” academics would apply science to solve agriculture’s manifold production problems. “At the time it appeared to everyone that science and organization would make a better world for all” (Busch, 1982). What was not noticed was that the entire system of land-grant colleges, experiment stations, and cooperative extension would be so successful that farming would become a business, not a way of life, and the system would create bigger, highly productive farms and drive small-scale farms, widely regarded as inefficient, from the land (Busch, 1982). In 1889, the head of the Department of Agriculture was raised to Cabinet status. From the beginning the Department’s functions were investigation, experimentation, and education. In 1884, the Department first began an inspection service to prevent the export of diseased cattle (Wiest, 1923, p. 31). Other Department programs of interest included those shown in Table V-2. The USDA program categories in the early part of the twentieth century did not include any mention of weeds. The first USDA Yearbook of Agriculture was published in 1894. It included a table of one hundred weeds with the common and scientific name, where they were injurious, their duration (life cycle), time of flowering, time of seeding, and method of propagation. The 1895 yearbook expanded the table to include two hundred weeds and added a description of how to know and kill them. At least 34 of the subsequent 107 yearbooks published up to 20074 include no mention of weeds. The 1952 yearbook was on insects and the
4
Yearbooks were published as bound volumes from 1894 through 1993. Subsequently, yearbooks have been published digitally and are available online only.
Creation and development of university weed science programs
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Table V-2 USDA program and the year each was created Program title
Year established
Soil analysis
1865
Division of botany
1868
Forestry investigations
1877
Division of forestry
1880
Animal diseases
1878
Vegetable physiology and pathology
1887
Weather bureau
1891
Agricultural soils division
1894
Bureau of soils
1901
Bureau of statistics
1903
Bureau of entomology
1904
Insecticide and fungicide board
1910
1953 was on plant diseases; both made brief mention of weeds. The USDA has never published a yearbook devoted entirely to weeds. The first weed control research by a public agency began in 1892 when a project was initiated in North Dakota. Congress appropriated a one-time allocation of funds for research on control of Johnsongrass in 1923 (Timmons, 1970). The first significant federal appropriation for weed research did not occur until 1935–1936 when Congress made funds available for work on field bindweed in Kansas, Nebraska, Iowa, and Minnesota (Dunham, 1973, p. 22). That project included six full-time researchers. The USDA Division of Weed Investigations was not organized until 1950 within the USDA’s Bureau of Plant Industry, Soils, and Agricultural Engineering. R. L. Lovvorn was the first head of the Division of Weed Investigations. Subsequently, weed scientists were assigned to: Year
Division of USDA
1961
Crops research division, crops protection research branch, weed investigations
1971
Plant science and entomology, plant science research division, crops protection research branch, weed investigations
1978
Science and education administration, federal research, divided by regions of the U.S.
1981
Science and education administration agency, agricultural research, divided by regions of the U.S.
1984
Agricultural research service, divided by regions of the U.S.
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A History of Weed Science in the United States
Each of these changes represented administrative realignments and not substantive changes in weed research or in the research mission of any other scientific part of USDA. The Silver Anniversary Presidential Address to the North Central Conference by L.G. Hannah (1970) of Monsanto lamented the fact that there were many U.S. universities with Departments of Entomology (43) and Plant Pathology (32) but none with a Department of Weed Science. The lack of departments of weed science has been a regular complaint of weed scientists for many years, although it has decreased but not disappeared in frequency in the twenty-first century (see Derr, 2004). In spite of occasional commentary in regional and the national society meetings, there are still no university departments devoted solely to weed science, although “Weed Science” is included in the department name at New Mexico State University (Department of Entomology, Plant Pathology, and Weed Science), and Virginia Tech University (Plant Pathology, Physiology, and Weed Science). Mississippi State University had a department of Plant Pathology and Weed Science. In the early 1990s, the Agronomy department was merged with Weed Science to create the new department of Plant and Soil Sciences. Entomology was merged with Plant Pathology. The frequent lament has been just that—a lament that continued in the paper by Derr (2004). There has never been a careful exploration of the reasons for the lack of weed science’s department status in universities. The justification for department status has usually included, as Derr’s (2004) more recent analysis has, the accurate claims that total crop losses and their value due to weeds are greater than those due to insects and plant diseases and more money is spent on herbicides and other techniques for weed control than on either insect or disease control. There are abundant data to support these claims (some can be found in a multiplicity of tables for agricultural chemical use compiled by the agricultural statistics service of the USDA and stored in Mann Library at Cornell University5). The academic pursuit of Entomology and Plant Pathology began as scientific disciplines long before they became applied disciplines that could actually manage insects or diseases. That is, entomology and plant pathology were sciences before they became applied sciences. In fact, there was significant debate within each discipline about the value and place of applied science. Entomologists studied insects because they were interesting creatures and early pathologists, mostly medical people, were interested in epidemiology and plant–microbe interactions. Plant pathologists and weed scientists are commonly concerned about bad things that happen to plants because of disease or weed presence. Entomologists are also concerned about the negative effect of insects on plants, but the discipline has a range of interests that go beyond applied insect control. Many disciplines may yearn for department status within the university. Many have achieved it and some of note have not. Most academic people 5
Reports are available for 1990 through the current decade at http://usda.mannlib.cornell.edu. (accessed January 2008. Enter herbicides in the search box, click on Agricultural chemical usage, and select the category of interest.)
Creation and development of university weed science programs
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would agree that ecology is a major but it has only rarely achieved department status. In spite of that, ecology has succeeded in the academic world and its adherents are seen as essential in many departments. Weed science has had at least three problems that have worked against achieving department status. The first is that the discipline has few course offerings. Most land-grant universities have one or more weed science courses but none have several. Departments are created by, among other things, the special, discipline-specific courses offered. A university major nearly always requires several courses in the home department and weed science has not fulfilled that obligation. The second reason is that weed science has had a small number of scientists on the faculty of most institutions and that number has declined in recent years. There is a requirement that any university department have a minimum number of faculty members. No one knows generally or specifically for any institution what the minimum number is but it is certain that it exists in the strategic planning of administrators. The weed science faculty has never been large enough. The third and most compelling reason for the lack of weed science departments is time. Other plant protection disciplines began prior to the time of consolidation of university departments. Hannah (1970) found forty-three departments of entomology and thirty-two departments of plant pathology in 1970. Now there are twenty-nine and nineteen, respectively (see Chapter II). Weed science began as the era of consolidation was beginning and that has been an insurmountable obstacle to achieving department status. Plant pathologists are present at all major land-grant universities but not all are in departments of plant pathology. In 2008, there were nineteen departments of plant pathology in U.S. universities6 but forty-eight universities had a program in plant pathology. Plant pathologists and entomologists are together in four universities and they are frequently combined in departments with quite general names (e.g., botany, biology, plant and soil sciences, plant science, and plant biology). In his presidential comments to the Weed Science Society of America, Coble (1993) expressed his grave concern that weed science was not even recognized as a field of study by the Cooperative State Research Service (CSRS) of the U.S. Department of Agriculture. Sixteen other fields, including plant pathology and entomology, were recognized. Weeds received some USDA funding as commodities because CSRS regarded them as commodities and not as agricultural problems or pests. Coble was irate and urged his weed science colleagues to write CSRS about the situation. CSRS changed its Field of Science categories in 1998 to recognize weed science as a legitimate field of study. This situation illustrates the problem weed scientists have had in being accepted as legitimate scientists whose subject matter should be perceived as deserving of federal funding. It is not that weed scientists do not get any respect, but they have always been given far less than they thought they deserved.
6
The information on departments of Plant Pathology was found at http://www.apsnet.org/directories/depthead.cfm in October 2008.
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A History of Weed Science in the United States
References Ahlgren, G.H., Klingman, G.C., Wolf, D.E., 1951. Principles of Weed Control. John Wiley & Sons, Inc., New York, NY, 368 pp. Alström, S., 1990. Fundamentals of Weed Management in Hot Climate Peasant Agriculture: A Multi-disciplinary Study of Principles, Potentials and Practices Primarily Based on Indian and International Weed Science Literature. Crop Production Science 11. SLU/Repro, Uppsala, Sweden, 271 pp. Anderson, W.P., 1983. Weed Science Principles, second ed. West Publishing Co., New York, NY, 655 pp. Anderson, W.P., 1996. Weed Science Principles, third ed. West Publishing Co., New York, NY, 388 pp. Anonymous, 1958. Weed Control Handbook. British Weed Control Council. Blackwell Scientific Publications, Oxford, UK, 245 pp. Appleby, A.P., 1999. 50 Years of the OSU Weed Control Program—1940–1990— A History and Memoirs. Oregon State University Printing Office, Corvallis, OR, 88 pp. Ashton, F.M., Monaco, T.J., 1991. Weed Science—Principles and Practices, third ed. John Wiley & Sons, Inc., New York, NY, 466 pp. Brenchley, W., 1920. Weeds of Farm Land. Longman Green and Co., London 239 pp. Busch, L., 1982. History, negotiation, and structure in agricultural research. J. Contemp. Ethnogr. 11, 368–384. Campbell, C.L., Peterson, P.D., Griffith, C.S., 1999. The Formative Years of Plant Pathology in the United States. APS Press, St. Paul, MN, 427 pp. Carstensen, V., 1962. A century of the land-grant colleges. J. Higher Educ. 33, 30–37. Coble, H.D., 1993. President’s message. Weed Sci. Soc. Am. Newsl., 2. Crafts, A.S., 1975. Modern Weed Control. University of California Press, Berkeley, CA, 440 pp. Crafts, A.S., Robbins, W.W., 1962. Weed Control—A Textbook and Manual, third ed. McGraw-Hill, Inc., New York, NY, 660 pp. Davenport, E., 1913. The American Agricultural College. Proc. Assoc. Am. Agric. Colleges Exp. Stations 26, 156–166. Derr, J.F., 2004. The status of weed science at universities and experiment stations in the northeastern United States. Weed Technol. 18, 1150–1156. Dunham, R.S., 1973. The Weed Story. Institute of Agriculture, University of Minnesota, St. Paul, MN, 86 pp. Hannah, L.G., 1970. What next. Proc. North Central Weed Control Conf. 25, 9–10. James, E.J., 1910. The origin of the Land Grant Act of 1862 (the so-called Morrill Act) and some account of its author Jonathan B. Turner. Univ. Stud. IV (1), 7–32. Kephart, L.W., 1947. Technical and commercial aspects of 2,4-D. Agric. Chem. II (8), 25–27 59–61. King, L.J., 1966. Weeds of the World—Biology and Control. Interscience Publishers, Inc., New York, NY, 526 pp. Klingman, G.C., 1961. Weed Control as a Science. John Wiley & Sons, Inc., New York, NY, 421 pp. Klingman, G.C., Ashton, F.M., 1975. Weed Science—Principles and Practices. John Wiley & Sons, Inc., New York, NY, 431 pp. Klingman, G.C., Ashton, F.M., 1982. Weed Science—Principles and Practices, second ed. John Wiley & Sons, Inc., New York, NY, 449 pp.
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Kuhns, L.J., Harpster, T.L., 1997. Agriculture needs more weed scientists. Proc. Northeast Weed Sci. Soc. 51, 192–197. Large, E.C., 2003. The Advance of the Fungi. American Phytopathological Society, St. Paul, MN, 488 pp. (First published in 1940. J. Cape, London, UK, 488 pp.) Martin, H., 1928. The Scientific Principles of Plant Protection. Longman’s Green & Co., London, UK, 316 pp. (Published in German as Pflanzenschutz.) Martin, H., 1959. The Scientific Principles of Crop Protection. E. Arnold Pub., Ltd., London, UK, 359 pp. Muenscher, W.C., 1935. Weeds. The Macmillan Company, New York, NY, 577 pp. Muenscher, W.C., 1955. Weeds, second ed. The Macmillan Company, New York, NY, 560 pp. Muzik, T.J., 1970. Weed Biology and Control. McGraw-Hill Book Company, New York, NY, 273 pp. Robbins, W.W., Bellue, M.K., Ball, W.S., 1941. Weeds of California. State Department of Agriculture, Sacramento, CA, 491 pp. Robbins, W.W., Crafts, A.S., Raynor, R.N., 1942. Weed Control—A Textbook and Manual. McGraw-Hill Book Company, Inc., New York, NY, 543 pp. Robbins, W.W., Crafts, A.S., Raynor, R.N., 1952. Weed Control—A Textbook and Manual, second ed. McGraw-Hill Book Company, Inc., New York, NY, 503 pp. Ross, M.A., Lembi, C.A., 1985. Applied Weed Science, first ed. Burgess Publishing Co., Minneapolis, MN, 340 pp. Ross, M.A., Lembi, C.A., 1999. Applied Weed Science, second ed. Prentice Hall, Upper Saddle River, NJ, 452 pp. Timmons, F.L., 1970. A history of weed control in the United States and Canada. Weed Sci. 18, 294–307. Republished Weed Sci. 53, 748–761. Waldron, C.B., 1892. The mustard family. North Dakota Agric. Expt. Stn. Bull. No. 6, 19 pp. Wiest, E., 1923. Agricultural Organization in the United States. University of Kentucky Press, Lexington, KY, 618 pp. Wilson, J.W., Fane, D., 1966. Brown University as the Land-Grant College of Rhode Island, 1863–1894. Brown University, Providence, RI. Zimdahl, R.L., 1993. Fundamentals of Weed Science, first ed. Academic Press, San Diego, CA, 450 pp. Zimdahl, R.L., 1999. Fundamentals of Weed Science, second ed. Academic Press, San Diego, CA, 556 pp. Zimdahl, R.L., 2007. Fundamentals of Weed Science, third ed. Academic Press, San Diego, CA, 666 pp.
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6 Development of herbicides after 1945 We can’t solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them. A. Einstein We live in a society exquisitely dependent on science and technology, in which hardly anyone knows anything about science and technology. Carl Sagan
The chemical era of agriculture developed rapidly after 1945, but it did not begin then. In 1000 b.c. the Greek poet Homer wrote of pest-averting sulfur. Theophrastus, regarded as the father of modern botany (372?–287? b.c.), reported that trees, especially young trees, could be killed by pouring oil, presumably olive oil, over their roots. The Greek philosopher Democritus (460?–370? b.c.) suggested that forests could be cleared by sprinkling tree roots with the juice of hemlock in which lupine flowers had been soaked. In the first century b.c., the Roman philosopher Cato advocated the use of amurca, the watery residue left after the oil is drained from crushed olives, for weed control (Smith and Secoy, 1975). Perhaps the first reference to the use of salt to ruin agriculture is from the book of Judges (9:45). Abimelech was the first Israelite to become a king, but he reigned only 3 years over a small area. He defeated the men of Sechem and sowed the city with salt to sterilize the soil (Smith and Secoy, 1976b). Historians tell us of the sack of Carthage by the Romans in 146 b.c., who then plowed salt into the fields to sterilize them. Later, salt was used as a herbicide in England. Several chemicals have been used as herbicides in agriculture for a long time, but their use was sporadic, frequently ineffective, and lacked any scientific base (Smith and Secoy, 1975, 1976a). In 1755, mercurous chloride (HgCl2) was used as a fungicide and seed treatment. In 1763, nicotine was used for aphid control. As early as 1803, copper sulfate was used as a foliar spray for diseases. Copper sulfate (blue vitriol) was first used for weed control in 1821. In 1855, sulfuric acid was used in Germany for selective weed control in cereals and onions. In 1868, Paris green (copper acetoarsenite) was used for control of the Colorado potato beetle (Leptinotarsa decemlineata). The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers used sodium arsenite in 1902 to control waterhyacinth in Louisiana. A California research worker, George Gray (1917), published an Agricultural Experiment Station Bulletin that reported a dilute solution of sodium arsenite sprayed on
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A History of Weed Science in the United States
field bindweed in the Fog Belt of coastal California killed the roots to a depth of several feet. The first chemical herbicides can be divided into two groups: corrosive fertilizers such as calcium cyanamide and kainit (a mixture of magnesium sulfate and potassium chloride); and simple industrial chemicals including metallic salts, sulfuric acid, sodium arsenite, ammonium sulfamate, and sodium chlorate (Holly, 1986; Norman et al., 1950). Bordeaux mixture, a combination of copper sulfate, lime, and water was applied to grapevines for the control of downy mildew in the late nineteenth century (see Chapter I). Someone in Europe noted that it turned yellow charlock (wild mustard) leaves black. That led Bonnet, in France in 1896, to show that a solution of copper sulfate would selectively kill yellow charlock (now wild mustardBrassica kaber [DC.] L.C. Wheeler) plants growing with cereals. In 1911, Rabaté demonstrated that dilute sulfuric acid could be used for the same purpose. The discovery that salts of heavy metals might be used for selective weed control led, in the early part of the twentieth century, to research on heavy metal salts by Frenchmen Bonnett, Martin, and Duclos, and German, Schultz (cited in Crafts and Robbins, 1962, p. 173). Nearly concurrently, in the United States, Bolley (1908) studied iron sulfate, copper sulfate, copper nitrate, and sodium arsenite for selective control of broadleaved weeds in cereal grains. Bolley, a plant pathologist, who worked in North Dakota (see Chapter IV), is widely acknowledged as the first in the United States to report on use of salts of heavy metals as selective herbicides in cereals. The action was caustic or burning with little, if any, translocation. Succeeding work in Europe observed the selective herbicidal effects of metallic salt solutions or acids in cereal crops (Zimdahl, 1995). The important early workers were Rabaté (1911, 1934) in France, Morettini (1915) in Italy, and Korsmo (1932) in Norway. Use of inorganic herbicides for weed management in small grains developed rapidly in Europe and England but not in the United States. It is still more widespread in Europe than in the United States. Some of the reasons for slow development in the United States included lack of adequate equipment and frequent failure to obtain weed control because the heavy metal salts were dependent on foliar uptake that did not readily occur in the low humidity of the primary grain-growing areas of the United States. The heavy metal salts worked well only with adequate rainfall and high relative humidity. Other agronomic practices such as increased use of fertilizer, improved tillage, and new varieties increased crop yield in the United States without weed control. U.S. farmers also could always move on to the endless frontier and were not as interested, as they would be later, in yield-enhancing technology. Carbon bisulfide was first used in agriculture in 1854 as an insecticide in France. It was applied as a soil fumigant in Colorado to control Phylloxera, a root-borne disease of grapes. In 1906, it was introduced as a soil fumigant for control of Canada thistle and field bindweed. It smells like rotten eggs and may have reached its peak usage in Idaho in 1936, when over 300,000 gallons were used.
Development of herbicides after 1945
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Petroleum oils, introduced for weed control along irrigation ditches and in carrots in 1914, are still used in some areas. Field bindweed was controlled successfully in France in 1923 with sodium chlorate, which is still used as a soil sterilant in combination with organic herbicides. Arsenic trichloride was introduced as a product called KMG (kill morning glory) in the 1920s. Sulfuric acid, first used in Germany in 1855, was used for weed control in Britain in the 1930s. It was and still is a very good herbicide, but is very corrosive to equipment and harmful to people. Among the first organic herbicides available in the early 1940s was 4,6-dinitroo-cresol (DNOC). It was first synthesized in Russia in the mid-1800s and used as a dyestuff, human slimming agent, and an insecticide (Holly, 1986). The first successful synthetic organic chemical for selective weed control in cereals was 2-(1-methylpropyl)-4,6-dinitrophenol or dinitro creysalte (Dinoseb), which was introduced in France in 1932 (Dunham, 1973, p. 16; King, 1966, p. 285). It was used for many years for selective control of some broadleaved weeds and grasses in large-seeded crops such as beans. It is included in the sixth edition of the Herbicide Handbook (Anonymous, 1989) but not in the seventh (Ahrens, 1994) or eighth (Vencill, 2002), although Dinoterb, a close chemical relative, which is not sold in the United States, is in both later editions. Dinoseb is included in the Weed Science Society of America (WSSA) list of approved herbicides (Anonymous, 2004). Dithiocarbamates were patented as fungicides in 1934. In 1940, ammonium sulfamate was introduced for control of woody plants. In 1940, Pokorny (1941), a chemist, likely employed by the C. B. Dodge Company to synthesize new compounds, did what good synthesis chemists do when he synthesized 2,4 dichlorophenoxy acetic acid (2,4-D) and 2,4,5-T. Both were regarded as chemical curiosities and reported as new compounds in the Journal of the American Chemical Society. Neither was reported to have activity as a fungicide or insecticide and apparently neither was tested to determine herbicidal activity. Other chemists noted the report and decided to investigate the possibility of biological activity. Accounts vary about when the first work on growth-regulator herbicides was done (Akamine, 1948). Zimmerman and Hitchcock (1942) of the Boyce-Thompson Institute (formerly in Yonkers, New York and now at Cornell University, Ithaca, New York) first described the substituted phenoxy acids (2,4-D is one) as growth regulators (auxin-like compounds) but did not report herbicidal activity. They also worked with other compounds that eventually became herbicides. They were the first to demonstrate that these molecules had physiological activity in cell elongation, morphogenesis, root development, and parthenocarpy (King, 1966). A Chicago carnation grower’s question, “What is the effect of illuminating gas (acetylene) on carnations?” led to the eventual discovery of other plant growth regulating substances by Boyce-Thompson scientists (King, 1966). There is much more to this fascinating story to be added later in this chapter. The effectiveness of monuron, a substituted urea, for control of annual and perennial grasses was reported by Bucha and Todd (1951). This was the first of
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many new selective chemical groups with herbicidal activity. The first triazine herbicide appeared in 1956 and the first acylanilide in 1953 (Zimdahl, 1995) followed by CDAA, the first alphachloroacetamide in 1956 (Hamm, 1974). The great era of herbicide development came at a time when world agriculture was involved in the beginnings of the revolutions of labor reduction, increased mechanization, and new methods to improve crop quality and produce higher yields at reduced cost. Herbicide development built on and contributed to changing agriculture. Farmers were ready for improved methods of selective, chemical weed control. Their acceptance of technological developments that changed the practice of agriculture has been characterized in terms of economic, political, social, and philosophical attitudes by Perkins and Holochuck (1993). Farmers wanted to improve their operation in competition with other farmers and were willing to adopt new technology that enabled them to improve their economic competitiveness. New technology was socially acceptable because as independent entrepreneurs, farmers could use many technological innovations to gain advantage independent of neighbors. Politically, farmers welcomed technical assistance that came from public laboratories and land-grant universities and government price-support systems that allowed farm operations to remain private. Farmers were highly social beings but they remained fiercely independent and welcomed opportunities to do what they wanted on their farms. New technology developed at no apparent cost to them that could be adopted without interference from anyone was welcomed. Finally, philosophically, farmers perceived that a major part of farming was controlling nature—bending nature to human will. Although this was a never-ending challenge, success was apparent when technology that increased production was readily available. Herbicides fit well in each category. It is true that no weed control method has ever been abandoned, new ones have been added and the relative importance of methods has changed. The need for cultivation, hoeing, and so on has not disappeared. These methods persist in small-scale agriculture (e.g., I hoe my garden) and in developing country agriculture. Older methods have become less important in developed world agriculture because of the rising costs of labor, the availability of effective chemical controls, and narrower profit margins (Table VI-1). A survey of commercially available herbicides in the United States (Kephart, 1947) documented use of fifty-one different products. Of those, twenty-five contained arsenic, five incorporated either nitrophenol or sodium chlorate, three were phenoxyacetic acids, a few contained boron or copper salts, and others were based on various inorganic materials with herbicidal activity. Petroleum-based herbicides, first used in California on non-crop land in 1924, were widely used by 1935 in southeastern states. In the early 1940s, petroleum oils were used for selective weed control in carrots (Dunham, 1973). Rapid development of herbicides occurred after WWII. Shaw (1954) discussed the scope of chemical weed control in the United States. He reported on six important classes of herbicides (phenoxy and phenoxypropionic acids, benzoic acids, substituted phenols, carbamates, substituted ureas, and a few
Development of herbicides after 1945
83
Table VI-1 The evolution of weed control methods in the United States (Alder et al., 1977) Percent control by year in U.S. Year
Human energy
Animal energy (tractor)
1920
40
60
1947
20
10
Mechanical energy
Chemical energy
70 a
1975
5
TR
40
55
1990
1
TR
24
75
TR trace.
a
Table VI-2 World sales of crop protection products 1960 to 1990 with 2000 estimated in billions of dollars (Gianessi and Silvers, 2000; Hopkins, 1994) World pesticide sales Pesticide
1960
1970
Year 1980 1990 (Million U.S. dollars)
1997
2000
Herbicides
160
918
4,756
12,600
14,700
16,560
Insecticides
288
945
3,944
7,840
9,100
9,360
Fungicides
320
702
2,204
5,600
5,400
7,560
32
135
696
1,960
1,700
2,520
800
2,700
11,600
28,000
30,900
36,000
Other TOTAL
diverse chemical structures) that were in use and in development. By 1954 most inorganic herbicides were no longer widely used. Shaw said that in 1954 it was estimated that the then huge amount of 85 million pounds of herbicides were used annually in the United States. One of every ten U.S. cropped acres was treated with a herbicide. In 2002, 204 selective herbicides were listed in the Weed Science Society of America’s Herbicide Handbook (WSSA) (Vencill, 2002) and 357 had been approved by the Weed Sci. Soc. (Anonymous, 2004). In addition there were several experimental herbicides in some stage of progress toward marketability. If proprietary labels are considered, there may be more than one thousand chemical and biological compounds used for pest control in the world (Hopkins, 1994). Table VI-2 illustrates that if dollars of product sold are the criterion used, pesticide use has been increasing and herbicide use dominates. In 1997, one billion pounds of pesticides were used in the United States and over 47 percent (461 million pounds) were herbicides (Gianessi and Silvers, 2000). Just ten herbicides accounted for 75 percent of
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sales (Gianessi and Marcelli, 2000). U.S. farmers routinely apply herbicides to more than 85 percent of crop acres (Gianessi and Sankula, 2003). A study of forty crops showed treatment of 220 million acres at a cost of $6.6 billion (Gianessi and Sankula, 2003). In 2001, the global market for non-agricultural pesticides was more than $7 billion per year and was growing about 4 percent a year. The global market just for turf pesticides is approximately $850 million per year, with about half used on golf courses. Each year U.S. lawn-care firms apply about $440 million worth of pesticides. The National Agricultural Statistics service of the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) regularly surveys selected states and selected crops to determine the extent of fertilizer and pesticide use. Reports are available for 1990 through the current decade at http://usda.mannlib.cornell.edu (accessed January 2008; enter herbicides in the search box, click on Agricultural chemical usage, and select the category of interest). The data below from 1990, 1996, 1997, and 2006 show that, with the exception of winter wheat, herbicides were used on a major portion of the acreage of each field crop surveyed. The specific figures for some of the crops surveyed are shown in Table VI-3. Each crop, with the exception of winter wheat, illustrates the dominance of herbicides for weed control. The soybean data show the dominance of glyphosateresistant (Roundup Ready™) soybeans and the wheat data illustrate the low Table VI-3 Percent of U.S. crop acres for some major crops treated with herbicides over several years Crop
Percent of acres treated with herbicides in 1990
1996
1997
2006
Corn
92
97
96
NA
Cotton, upland
96
92
97
NA
Potato
79
87
83
NA
Rice
98
NA
NA
95
Soybean
95
97
97
98
% of soy bean acres treated with glyphosate
92
Vegetables, 22 crops Range
28–96
Average
63
Wheat, durum
90
NA
NA
Wheat, other spring 89
NA
NA
93
Wheat, winter
34
NA
NA
95 49
Development of herbicides after 1945
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profitability of the crop and the lack of weed problems for which herbicide solutions exist. The global herbicide market was estimated to be $13.5 billion from 1990 to 1993 and a third ($4.5 billion) was the U.S. market. Kiely and colleagues (2004) estimated that $14 billion was spent worldwide on chemical weed control. Japan was the next largest single country with $1.5 billion in sales. When the entire European market is considered, it is second largest, with France ($1.25 billion) the largest single European country (Hopkins, 1994). In 2001, world expenditures on all herbicides was $14,118 million, and 44 percent of this in the world and in the United States was herbicides. U.S. users spent $6,410 million for 553 million pounds of active ingredient, which was equal to 4,987 million pounds of product. These amounts are lower than purchases in 2000 and have returned to the levels last seen in the early 1970s (US/EPA, 2004). Of these amounts, 78 percent is used in agriculture, with the rest nearly evenly divided between industrial/commercial/government (12 percent) and home and garden use (10 percent). In 1990, about 45 percent of world pesticide sales volume was herbicides (similar to the U.S. data), insecticides were 28 percent, and fungicides approximately 20 percent of total sales volume (Hopkins, 1994). Over 85 percent of herbicides are used in agriculture. The worldwide market is becoming increasingly concentrated in the hands of a few multi-national corporations. Nearly half the companies in pesticide discovery (but not in development and marketing) in 1994 were Japanese (Hopkins, 1994). The number of companies marketing herbicides in the United States has steadily shrunk from 46 in 1970 to 7 in 2005 (Appleby, 2005). Three are based in the United States and the others are based in Europe, but each operates in the United States (Appleby, 2005, personal communication). While the number of companies engaged in herbicide discovery, development, and sales has steadily declined, the number of available herbicides has steadily increased. Table VI-4 shows that the number of herbicides listed in the first (1967) through the eighth (2002) edition of the Weed Science Society of America’s Herbicide Handbook has increased as has the number of different chemical families in which herbicidal activity has been discovered. Similarly, the number of Table VI-4 The number of herbicides and chemical families in the eight editions of the Herbicide Handbook of the Weed Science Society of America Year of herbicide handbook publication 1967 1970 1974 1979 1983 1989 19941998 supp.
2002
Total herbicides
97
115
125
137
130
145
163
211
Number of chemical families
27
27
32
37
35
43
63
75
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WSSA-approved herbicides has increased from 304 in 1995 (Anonymous, 1995) to 357 in 2004 (Anonymous, 2004). It is clear and not debatable that because of their significant production advantages, herbicides dominate modern weed control. Timmons (1970) reported 75 herbicides marketed between 1950 and 1969. Appleby (2005) included 184 herbicides marketed between 1970 and 2005, an increase of 2.4 times. Although the herbicide chemical industry has undergone extensive consolidation, as have many other manufacturing industries, it has not diminished discovery and development of new herbicides in older chemical families or discovery of activity in new chemical groups. Worldwide sales have continued to increase. World exports of pesticides of all kinds totaled $15.9 billion in 2004, a new high in sales for the global chemical industry (Jordan, 2006). Use of all kinds of pesticides has risen from nearly 0.5 kg/ha in 1960 to 2 kg/ha in 2004. The recent increase is attributed mainly to the increased use of herbicides on genetically modified crops in China (Jordan, 2006). A wide range of methods has been offered for vegetation management through the use of herbicides. The etymology of herbicide is derived from the Latin herba, or plant, and caedere, to kill. Herbicides are chemicals that kill plants. The definition accepted by the Weed Science Society of America (Vencill, 2002, p. 459) is that a herbicide is “a chemical substance or cultured organism used to kill or suppress the growth of plants.” In effect, a herbicide disrupts the physiology of a plant over a long enough period to kill it or severely reduce its growth. Pesticides are chemicals used to control pests. Herbicides differ from other pesticides because their sphere of influence extends beyond their ability to kill or control plants. Herbicides change the chemical environment of plants, which can be more easily manipulated than the climatic, edaphic, or biotic environments. Herbicides reduce or eliminate labor and machine requirements and modify crop production techniques. When used appropriately they are production tools that increase farm efficiency, reduce horsepower, and perhaps reduce energy requirements. Herbicides do not eliminate energy requirements because they are petroleum-based. Understanding the history, nature, properties, effects, and uses of herbicides is essential if one is to be conversant with modern weed management. Weed management is not accomplished exclusively with herbicides, but they dominate in the developed world and to most weed scientists they are essential tools. Whether one likes them or deplores them, they cannot be ignored. To ignore them is to be unaware of the opportunities and problems of modern weed management. Ignoring or dismissing herbicides may lead to an inability to solve weed problems in many agricultural systems and may delay development of better weed management systems. The majority of weed scientists think carefully about the link between what they do and the problems their work will solve and the benefits it will provide. They are guided by clear utilitarian goals—to provide the greatest good for the greatest number of people. Theirs is a twentieth century reason for doing science. It is science driven by the desirable goal of
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solving real problems rather than the more traditional goal of intellectual curiosity (see Specter, 2007). In earlier times, “among elite scientists, it was usually considered gauche to be obsessed with anything tangible or immediate; brilliant discoveries were supposed to percolate” (Specter, 2007). They were rarely intentional. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, that way of doing scientific research was the norm. In agricultural science, most agricultural pest problems could not be solved; they could only be studied. Although many tried, often with some success, to control weeds in the early twentieth century, weed science did not begin until the mid-twentieth century when weeds could be controlled by new herbicides, often quite quickly and selectively. From the beginning, the purpose of weed science was to solve weed problems, primarily those in production agriculture. Weed scientists were in the business of reshaping how agriculture was to be practiced. Crafts (1960), as he did often and well, told weed scientists in his presidential address to the Weed Society of America, what their mission was. Primarily due to monocultural agriculture, “farmers are at war with weeds, the invaders of his crops.” He continued, “at last man has devised tools for combating weeds, commensurate with the tools he uses for mining and manufacture and travel: modern mechanical and chemical tools.” These new products contributed to the chemicalization of agriculture and are the “tools of the present day weed researcher.” In his speech, Crafts reviewed the early discovery of the inorganic chemicals that were used for other purposes, but careful observers noted the death of weeds. He pointed out that while the discoveries were apparently accidental, “they had to happen.” He saw the development of herbicides as an inevitable outcome of progress in plant physiology. In his view, the chemical control of weeds did not begin with the discovery of 2,4-D. It was a concept that “had to be born” because of accumulated knowledge of plant physiology, plant biochemistry, and hormone mechanisms. Others agreed with Crafts’ idea of the inevitability of progress in weed management. For example, the North Central Weed Control Conference was created in 1944 by agronomists and weed scientists who came together with the common goal of discovering more effective control, including chemical control, of deep-rooted, noxious, perennial weeds, especially field bindweed. It was not the post war availability of 2,4-D, but concern about perennial weeds that moved scientists and administrators in the fourteen-state North Central region to confer. Work on 2,4-D was important, but it was not the reason conference was created. The first meeting of the Western Weed Control Conference was held in Denver in June 1938 (Appleby, 1993), well before 2,4-D was discovered. The Conference’s purpose was to foster other regional and a national weed control organizations. Progress in weed management had to happen. Crafts began a new science focused on weeds at the University of California at Davis. He said, “Little did I realize when on July 1, 1931, I initiated weed control by scientific methods, that I was starting a technology that, in a mere 50 years would develop into an industry involving hundreds of effective herbicides that would exceed in cost and magnitude the sum total of all other
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pesticides” (Crafts, 1985; Shaw, 1984). Crafts and his mentor and colleague, W. W. Robbins, were among the creators of the scientific study of weeds. For them it was, because it had to be, a study of weeds rather than their control because there was no significant ability to control weeds. They were men born in the nineteenth century and educated in the early twentieth century. In 1910, feeding the horses and mules necessary to do the work on farms required more than one-fourth of the output of the world’s farms and probably a tenth of the required work on farms was devoted to caring for the draft animals. In 1922, a team of thirty-two mules was required in the state of Washington and much of the western United States for wheat harvest. It took one 32-mule team a month to harvest 1,200 acres of wheat. In the 1990s, a gas-powered combine completed the same harvest in a third of the time (Singer, 1998, p. 369). Combine harvesters and many other technical and mechanical developments were part of what has to be regarded as a revolution in the growing of food. It is undeniable that weeds were of concern to farmers and a few scientists. There were “three full-time weed men (in the U.S.) in 1934 and not too many part-time ones” (Willard, 1951). Oregon appointed the first full-time weed specialist in 1936 (Dunham, 1973). By 1951, the USDA had the equivalent of seventeen scientists working on weeds. In 1960 there were sixty-six. Buchholz (1961) estimated that U.S. states employed only thirty scientists who worked on weeds and most of them were part-time. By 1960, Buchholz (1961) estimated there were 160 state weed workers, whereas Dunham (1973) estimated, for the same time, that there were seventeen states that had twenty full-time weed specialists and eighty-nine specialists devoted part-time to weeds. One wonders why each of these men (they were all men) began to work on weeds. What drew them to weeds? Most were trained as agricultural scientists, but few had been involved in educational programs that produced weed scientists—those whose education and training focused on weeds. The dilemma of developing a discipline that claimed to be an objective science based on the study of a subjective class of plants is clear but has not been questioned (Evans, 2002, p. 13). Weeds were defined and redefined and while each weed scientist has a clear understanding of the objects of study, there is no universal definition, shared by all scientists. In 1967 the Weed Science Society of America defined a weed as a plant growing where it is not desired (Buchholtz, 1967). In 1989, the Society’s definition was changed to define a weed as “any plant that is objectionable or interferes with the activities or welfare of man” (Humburg, 1989, p. 267; Vencill, 2002, p. 462). The European Weed Research Society (1986) defined a weed as “any plant or vegetation, excluding fungi, interfering with the objectives or requirements of people.” (For other definitions see Zimdahl, 2007, pp. 17–18). Each definition is clear and each leaves the burden, and responsibility for specific identification and final definition, with individuals. It is the individual who determines when a particular plant is growing in a place where it is not desired or when it interferes with their activities or welfare. What was implicit but never made explicit in any definition or in the minds of weed scientists was the fact that weeds are products of the way agriculture is practiced. They are products of ecology, psychology and the culture that
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informs how we practice and think about agriculture (Evans, 2002, p. 14). This has not been considered carefully by weed scientists. If it is true, then the weed problem may be best addressed “by considering not only the agroecosystems that produce them but also the culture that informs how we farm and think about agriculture” (Evans, 2002, p. 14). Since the beginning of attention to weeds and especially since the advent of 2,4-D and its derivatives, weed scientists have been fully occupied with the multiple tasks defined by Willard (1951) and never abandoned. Willard asked “Where do we go from here?” His answer was—everywhere, and he was quite serious. As a developing science with a brand new technology whose actions and effects were only partially understood, literally everything was unknown. Although Willard did not encourage “riding off in all directions,” he did encourage building “a science and art which will go far to relieve the primeval curse placed on Adam and Eve when they were cast out of the Garden of Eden.” Weed scientists did not pause to examine the reasons weeds were omnipresent and seemed to become worse problems as production increased with new rapidly emerging technologies (e.g., fertilizer, new cultivars, pesticides, irrigation). Weed problems were real and increasing production was deemed to be an essential agricultural goal. The problem of weeds had to be solved and all engaged in agriculture adopted and were not criticized often for adopting what Evans (2002, p. 51) calls “a harsh, and at times blindly oppositional attitude” toward weeds. The search for cost-effective, efficient solutions to the omnipresent and worsening weed problems in existing systems of agriculture was the primary and worthy focus for weed scientists. Theirs were not systemic questions about the way agriculture was practiced. The primary questions and goals were those directed toward maximizing production. Farming systems changed slowly, usually in response to other technological advances (machinery, cultivars, irrigation). Herbicides are the major technology whose use has been and is still investigated intensively by weed scientists. An exploration of the history of weed science must, in my view, include the stories of how herbicides were developed and their influence on the development of weed science. A few of the stories from the open literature or that I have discovered follow. Many of the stories of the development of important herbicide groups that ought to be included (e.g., protox inhibitors, aryloxyphenoxypropionic acids [fops], and cyclohexanediones [dims]) are not because those who were involved have died and their story died with them or the stories were not written by those involved. A brief history of the development of several important herbicide chemical groups can be found in the introductory comments on the chemical groups in the three volume series edited by Kearney and Kaufmann (1975).
2,4-D, the phenoxyacetic acids, and the beginning of rational herbicide development The development of 2,4-D and the other phenoxyacetic acid herbicides quite literally transformed agriculture in much of the world and should be ranked
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as one of the great contributions of science. For the first time farmers and others were able to control many broadleaved weeds selectively and inexpensively in grass (e.g., cereals and corn) crops without obvious harm to themselves, other species, or the environment. The advent of 2,4-D (a term not used in the literature until 1945) (Peterson, 1967) created a chemical revolution in crop production and created the agrochemical industry.1 The selective properties of the phenoxyacetic acids were revolutionary but the use rates were even more so. Prior to their development it was common and acceptable to test candidate herbicides at 75 to 150 pounds per acre, but 2,4-D was effective and selective at a few pounds or even less. The commercial history of 2,4-D can be traced to the first patents. U.S. patent numbers 2,322,760 and 2,322,761 for plant growth regulators were issued to John Lontz and assigned to E. I. du Pont de Nemours & Co. The Lontz patents addressed how growth characteristics of plants are modified by application of the compounds identified in the patent application. Patent number 2,390,941 was issued to Franklin D. Jones, who assigned the patent to the American Chemical Paint Co. The Jones patent was a use patent that did not prevent any company from manufacturing and selling 2,4-D. It described its uses as a weed killer. The primary object of the “invention” was “to improve chemical methods for eradication of weeds in an active stage of growth.” The secondary objective of Jones’ patent was “to provide a wholly new class of systemic or translocated herbicides.” However, while the commercial history includes part of the phenoxy acid story, it is only a part and omits the interesting parts—the many related events and the good scientists whose work was affected by war. The discovery and development of the phenoxy acid herbicides is not the only interesting story of herbicide development, but it is also the first and has not always been reported accurately. There are three important historical references that have most of the details. The entire story will not be repeated here but some clarification is appropriate. The first report Peterson (1967) is complete about what happened in the United States, but ignores most of the very similar work that occurred in the United Kingdom at the same time as the American story unfolded. The second report (Kirby, 1980) was published by the British Crop Protection Council and quite understandably emphasizes the British work. None of the scientific work in the late 1930s and early 1940s proceeded normally in either country because of financial and security restrictions imposed by WWII. Scientific results were not published in the open literature until the war was almost over. The war raised three concerns. The first was that although the biological (the herbicidal) potential of the new chemicals was beginning to be understood, it was not understood well enough to know if they could be used as weapons of war to destroy enemy crops. The decision makers in both countries 1 Fryer, J. D., 1980. Foreword, pp. 1–3 In: C. Kirby, 1980. The Hormone Weedkillers: A Short History of Their Discovery and Development. British Crop Protection Council Pubs. Croydon, U.K., 55 pp.
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recognized the potential of biological warfare to destroy crops but neither group was convinced it could be done or that it should be done. The first, a scientific/technical question, asked if there was the equipment (the mechanical [sprayer] technology and the aerial technology [enough planes]) to do what would have to be done. The second was a moral question. Should we do it even if we could? It was more difficult to answer. The ultimate answer in both countries was, No, to both questions. One cannot know at this juncture what the answer to the moral question would have been in the 1940s, if the technical issues had been resolved. Kirby (1980, p. 7) suggests that both countries “eagerly seized” upon use of the chemicals for destroying enemy crops only to abandon it “at the last moment because the chemicals were considered too specific in the plants they killed and the techniques (of application) would be more costly than the high density bombing of German towns then under way.” Finally, there was a real fear that German chemists might have made the same discoveries and if the allies did not act, the Luftwaffe would. The British, especially, wanted to know what would happen if the Germans were to use such chemicals on their crops. The major question was not what the effects might be. The effects were known. The question was, if the Germans had and used the chemicals, were there solutions or would all crops die and people starve? Herbicides were not used in WW II but when the technical questions had been answered negatively the moral question was also answered or perhaps was no longer germane. The third and most complete and accurate historical report is by Troyer (2001) a botanist from North Carolina State University. Both Peterson (1967) and Kirby (1980) have most of the facts right. Kirby (1980) in her chapter on the American contribution quotes extensively from Peterson’s 1967 paper, although she does not cite his work. Troyer (2001) claims there was a multiple independent discovery of the phenoxy acids by four groups of workers in two countries. A summary of his findings is in Table VI-5. Malaysia was a British colony after 1873. The British used herbicides for defoliation and crop destruction in their armed struggle against Malaysian communist guerilla insurgents between 1951 and 1953. British interests included protecting their tin mining and rubber plantation businesses. The United States used massive doses of phenoxy acid and other herbicides in Vietnam for several years after 1962 (Troyer, 2001—see his references for more details). Peterson (1967) notes that the herbicides developed under wartime secrecy for military uses in the early 1940s, finally were used by the U.S. military in Vietnam. The phenoxy acid story begins, as so many scientific tales do, with discoveries made much earlier before anyone had discovered selective herbicides that could be applied at low doses. Those who were concerned about weeds surely had thought of the possibilities but the basic research had not been done. As that work progressed, it may have appeared that the discoveries were accidental, but as mentioned above, in Crafts (1960) view, “they had to happen.”
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Table VI-5 Summary of discovery work on phenoxy acid herbicides Researchers
Organization
When work began When first reported
W.G. Templeman et al.
Imperial Chemical Industries, U.K.
1940
Patent April 7, 1941 Nature April 28, 1945 Proc. Royal Soc. Aug. 7, 1946
F.D. Jones
American Chemical Paint Co., U.S.
Feb. 1942
Canadian Patent Jun 2, 1944 U.S. Patent Dec. 11, 1945 American Nurseryman Mar. 1, 1945
P.S. Nutman, H.G. Thornton, and J.H. Quastel
Rothamsted Agricultural Experiment Station, U.K.
Oct. 1942
Nature Apr. 28, 1945 Rothamsted Report for 1939–1945, Pub. 1946
E.J. Kraus
Univ. of Chicago
Jan. 1943
Bot. Gazette, Mar. 1947
J.W. Mitchell
Beltsville Agric. Expt. Stn.
Mar. 1943
Bot. Gazette, Dec 1944
Crafts thought that the development of herbicides was an inevitable outcome of progress in plant physiology. Peterson (1967) provides a clear description of the work that substantiates Crafts’ claim that things like 2,4-D “had to happen.” Peterson notes that “between 1880 and the mid-1930s, several botanists pursued different lines of investigation that made possible the discovery of 2,4-D.” A few of the necessary antecedents noted by Peterson are repeated below.2 (Interested readers are referred to his paper for detailed citations.) Charles Darwin, a name not usually associated with herbicides or weed control, reported in 1880 that plants always bend toward light. He believed, but could not prove, that leaf tips transmitted something to lower plant parts, which created the observed response. Plant physiologists followed Darwin’s lead and began to look for an explanation for what came to be called phototropism. By 1929, F. W. Went, K. V. Thimann, and others had determined that a light-sensitive growth hormone in seedling leaf tips controlled their growth. By 1926 the hormone had been extracted from plants. In 1934, Went and 2
What follows has been taken, without citing each excerpt, from Peterson, G. E. 1967. The discovery and development of 2,4-D. Agric. History 41, 243–253.
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Thimann synthesized the chemical and found that it affected plants exactly as the plant-produced hormone did. In 1935, Zimmerman and Hitchcock of the Boyce-Thompson Institute in Yonkers, New York were investigating plant hormone-like substances. They particularly noted activity in phenyl and naphthyl acetic acids. In 1938, V. C. Irvine, a chemist at the University of Colorado, reported that naphthoxyacetic acid was a very active plant growth regulator (Peterson, 1967). Zimmerman and Hitchcock (1935, 1942) soon discovered that the phenoxy acids were very active plant growth regulators. By 1939 they had discovered fifty-four different chemicals that affected plant growth when applied as a vapor. “In April 1942, Zimmerman and Hitchcock reported the responses that phenoxyacetic acids and benzoic acids induced when applied to plants in various forms” (Peterson, 1967). One of the most effective was 2,4-D but they did not report on its herbicidal activity because they were studying chemicals that regulated plant growth, not looking for herbicides. E. J. Kraus began his career as an Assistant in horticulture at Oregon State College in 1909. His doctoral degree was completed at the University of Chicago in 1917, while on leave from Oregon. He became Dean of the Service Departments at Oregon State College (Art and Rural Architecture, Bacteriology, Botany, Chemistry, English, Entomology, History, Mathematics, Modern Language, Physics, Public Speaking, Zoology, and Physiology). One wonders exactly who was served. Kraus left Oregon in 1919 for a position in Applied Botany at the University of Wisconsin. Subsequently, he moved to University of Chicago as Head of the Department of Botany. He was awarded the honorary degree of Doctor of Science by Oregon State College in 1938 and the same degree by Michigan State University in 1949. Kraus died in Corvallis, Oregon in 1960. He studied plant growth regulation for several years and much of his work is regarded as foundational to the field of plant (crop) physiology. Kraus supervised the doctoral programs of J. W. Mitchell and C. L. Hamner, who in the early 1940s were working as plant physiologists with the U.S. Department of Agriculture, Plant Industry Station at Beltsville, Maryland. Kraus thought these new, potential plant growth regulators that often distorted plant growth when used at higher-than-growth-regulating doses and could even kill plants, might be used beneficially to selectively kill plants. He saw potential use as chemical plant killers or herbicides and advocated purposeful application in toxic doses for plant control. Because of WWII and the potential for biological warfare against an enemy’s crops (e.g., German potatoes), much of this work was done under contract from the U.S. Army at its Biological Warfare Laboratory at Camp (Fort) Detrick, near Frederick, Maryland (Peterson, 1967; Troyer, 2001). Wartime secrecy also mandated that the work could not be reported in the accepted, timely manner in the scientific literature. Thus, the determination of who was first demanded research when the work was finally published, often years after it had been done (see Table VI-5). Hamner and Tukey (1944a, b) reported the first field trials with 2,4-D for successful selective control of
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broadleaved weeds. They also worked with 2,4,5-T as a brush killer. Marth and Mitchell (1944), also former students of E. J. Kraus, first reported the differential use of 2,4-D for killing dandelions and other broadleaved weeds selectively in Kentucky bluegrass turf. Marth and Mitchell attribute the quest for selective activity of these compounds to Kraus. There was close involvement with Fanny Fern Davis of the U.S. Golf Association greens section at Beltsville, Maryland. She knew of the work on selective control of dandelions in turf with 2,4-D and began extensive studies with 2,4-D. She was among the first to direct a program to develop practical, selective weed control with 2,4-D. Mrs. Davis was recognized as the “First Lady of Weed Science” by the Weed Science Society of America in 1979 (Appleby, 2006, p. 19). Similar work for similar reasons was done in Great Britain. It is described well by Kirby (1980) and Troyer (2001). W. G. Templeman of Imperial Chemical Industries (ICI) of Great Britain had completed work in 1936 and 1937 that showed that the toxic effects of naphthalene acetic acid varied among species when whole plants were treated (Templeman, 1939; Troyer, 2001). In 1940, Templeman showed that “growth substances applied appropriately would kill certain broad-leaved weeds in cereals without harming the crop” (Templeman and Marmory, 1940; Troyer, 2001). Troyer (2001) reports that ICI chemists had accomplished the synthesis of 2,4-D prior to its synthesis by Pokorny in 1941 and that Templeman and his colleagues had found 2,4-D and MCPA to be different, selective herbicides in cereals. A British patent was filed in 1941 (Table VI-5) but the patent and scientific publications did not appear until after the war ended. Slade and associates (1945), in England, discovered that naphthaleneacetic acid at 25 lbs/acre would selectively remove charlock (wild mustard) from oats with little injury to oats. They (Slade et al., 1945) also discovered the broadleaved herbicidal properties of the sodium salt of MCPA (later called Methoxone, King, 1966), a compound closely related to 2,4-D. Slade and colleagues (1945) confirmed the selective activity of 2,4-D in publications that could not appear until after the war. It is clear that work on the herbicidal properties of the phenoxyacetates in England preceded by several years the work in the United States. The British selected 2-methyl4-chlorophenoxyacetic acid (Methoxone) for further development not because of its herbicidal superiority but rather because of the greater availability of the required chemical precursor chloro-cresol and the low availability of chlorophenol in England (Norman et al., 1950). The discoveries in the United States and United Kingdom were not the beginning of attempts to control weeds with chemicals, but they were the beginning of modern chemical weed control. All previous herbicides were just a prologue to the rapid development that occurred following discovery of the selective activity of the phenoxyacetic acid herbicides. It is not too far off the mark to claim as Hilton (2007, p. 81) did that “what the atom bomb was to theoretical physics, the herbicide dichlorophenoxyacetic acid (2,4-D) was to weed control and mechanized farming.” Readers interested in more detail are encouraged to consult Peterson (1967), Kirby (1980), and, for the most complete story, Troyer (2001).
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Herbicide development programs expanded rapidly after 2,4-D appeared. When it first appeared, the American Chemical Paint Co. was one of a very few companies involved in herbicide development. Several companies manufactured and sold chemicals (e.g., acrolein, allyl alcohol, arsenic acid, sodium chlorate, sodium arsenite, and Stoddard solvent) that were effective as herbicides. These companies were not engaged in what soon became the new industry of discovery and development of new herbicide chemistry. Companies did not immediately move into this new business for several reasons. Perhaps the most important was that no one was sure how to find a new herbicide or any other pesticide. Pharmaceutical companies had screening methods to find new drugs but similar methods had not been developed to find new pesticides. The search was going to be expensive and those who ran companies surely wanted to be convinced that the necessary investment would result in profits. Finally, there was uncertainty that farmers would adopt the new technology. But, 2,4-D’s immediate and continued success allayed fears about farmer acceptance. “In 1945, the first year 2, 4-D was sold to the public, total production of the chemical in the United States was 917,000 pounds” (Canine, 1995, p. 201). In 1946, 5.5 million pounds were produced, by 1950 it was 14 million, and in the mid-1960s more than 50 million pounds were manufactured and applied annually (Canine, 1995). In 1995, more than 60 million pounds of herbicides were applied annually in the United States in 574 different products (Canine, 1995, p. 201). The search for herbicides proceeded eventually in one of three ways but at first there was really only one method—random screening. Random screening is exactly what its name implies—application of candidate chemicals to plants to see if any activity is detected. There is an abundant supply of weeds and when the right ones were selected for screening, the results have been highly successful. For example, difenzoquat, the successful wild oat herbicide would never have been discovered if wild oats had not been included in the random screen, because it is the only weed affected (Los, 1991). Early in herbicide development, random screening was the principle method. Companies now routinely screen as many as 40,000 candidate chemicals for every one that makes it to the market. Once a class of herbicide chemistry was discovered, a second method became feasible. It is using the structure of a known herbicide as a template and creating new chemical structures for testing. It begins with knowledge of activity and perhaps selectivity, and through synthesis of new structures, the search is expanded. Use of the third, or biorational, method required more basic physiological knowledge than was initially available. The method is based on knowledge of the target enzyme or the physiological mechanism involved at the target site. It is common in pharmaceutical development but has not achieved significant success in herbicide development (Los, 1991). By 1970 forty-six U.S. companies were involved in herbicide discovery and development (Appleby, 2007, personal communication3). The number of companies dropped rapidly after 1970 due to consolidation in the industry. 3
Appleby, A. P. 2007. For details see http://cropandsoil.oregonstate.edu/herbgnl.
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Amino triazole Amitrole was patented as a herbicide and plant growth regulator in 1954 although its herbicidal activity was reported in 1953 (Behrens, 1953; Shaw and Swanson, 1953). The activity of amino triazole was discovered by the American Chemical Paint Co. The product, amitrole, was developed and marketed by American Cyanamid Corp. The original structural patent was by the Union Carbide Corporation under U.S. patent number 2,670,282. It controlled several annual and perennial broadleaf and grass weeds but was not selective enough to be used in any crop except cranberries. One of its great nonagricultural attractions was its ability to kill a few important woody species and poison ivy and poison oak. It inhibits the accumulation of chlorophyll and carotenoids in the light and affected plants are bleached white. It was used as a directed spray in hardwood nurseries. Amino triazole was approved for weed control in cranberry bogs in January 1958, but only after the berries had been harvested. Apparently some growers had been spraying amino triazole prior to harvest and that error led to the great cranberry scare of 1959. The cranberry scare is the reason this relatively obscure herbicide deserves to be mentioned. On November 9, 1959, Arthur Flemming, Secretary of Health, Education, and Welfare, announced that cranberries grown in Oregon and Washington in 1958 and 1959 had been contaminated with amino triazole “a weed killer capable of causing thyroid cancer in rats.” The Federal Food and Drug Agency had determined that amitrole might be a tumor-causing carcinogen and because it was used for weed control in cranberry bogs, the berries and the sauce made from them might be contaminated (Lutz, 1993, pp. 43–46). Flemming’s announcement came like a bomb at the beginning of the cranberry grower’s peak and, perhaps only, season—Thanksgiving. It was a disaster for the cranberry growers and for the pesticide industry, which had already been severely harmed by the intense discussion and ultimate banning of DDT, which had been introduced in 1942. The cranberry crop of nearly 1.3 million barrels was worth $45 to 50 million and on its way to market in 1959. Growers faced losing the whole crop. Cranberry sales were banned in several cities and consumers were urged not to buy them because they and the FDA could not be sure the berries were not contaminated with amino triazole. The cranberry incident was the first time the potential danger of herbicides had been brought to the public’s attention. It was the first major scare that alerted the public that pesticide residues in food might be carcinogenic. It was also the first time that a pesticide manufacturing company publically defended a pesticide (Lutz, 1993). The cranberry scare made herbicides and all pesticides that were being created in a relatively unknown but rapidly growing industry, highly visible and controversial to the public. A major question in the news at the time was whether or not President Eisenhower would eat cranberry sauce with his Thanksgiving turkey. The public never learned if he did. The four regional weed conferences all existed in 1959 but the Weed Society of America was barely 3 years old. The USDA was the only agency that had
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worked on amitrole and its mode of action.4 A summary of their work was requested because Vice President Nixon was to speak to the Wisconsin5 cranberry growers, whose sole market, at the time, was cranberry sauce. Weed scientists and their conferences knew of the cranberry scare but were not yet organized to respond and did not. There was a suspicion at the time that the U.S. Food and Drug Agency was intent on gaining regulatory authority over pesticides, which was then the purview of USDA. That did not happen until the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) was created in 1970 and pesticide regulation was moved from the USDA to the EPA. One important result of the 1959 cranberry incident was increased public concern about pesticides and their use. A second, and perhaps more important, result was increased federal funding for research on pesticide use and their environmental effects. Under the leadership of Warren Shaw, the USDA responded by holding a symposium on agricultural chemicals from April 27 to 29, 1959 at the Plant Industry Station and Agricultural Research Center in Beltsville, Maryland. The proceedings (Anonymous, 1960) were published in September 1960. More than five hundred scientists from federal and state agencies and chemical companies attended. The symposium’s objective was to contribute “to greater advancement in research on agricultural chemicals and to a more complete understanding of the part they play in providing our Nation with a wholesome, safe, and abundant food supply.” One of the enduring, yet infrequently cited, contributions from the symposium is the paper by Shaw and associates (1960). The figures in the paper (drawn by J. L. Hilton) have been used many times to illustrate the interactions of herbicides and plants. The paper, a result of the amino triazole incident, was the first summary of what was known about the nature and fate of herbicides in plants.
2,4,5-T The discovery and early use of 2,4,5-T was mentioned above, but that is not the end of the 2,4,5-T story. The phenoxy acids were developed in the United States and United Kingdom during WWII at least partially because they had potential as weapons of biological warfare against German crops. They were not used as biological weapons by the United States until January 13, 1962 when three U.S. Air Force C-123s took off from Tan Son Nhut airbase in what was then South Vietnam to begin Operation Ranch Hand. The C-123 was a twin engine, propeller driven, short-range assault and transport plane. Each of the planes was loaded with more than a thousand gallons of one of eight herbicide formulations. Agent Orange was one of the herbicide mixtures (the rainbow agents-blue, orange, purple, and white were dominant) that had been developed for use in South Vietnam after preliminary experiments by the 4 5
Hilton, J. L., 2008, Personal communication. Cranberries were grown in Massachusetts, New Jersey, Oregon, Washington, and Wisconsin.
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USDA in Puerto Rico and at Camp Drum in New York. Agent Orange was the best known of the herbicide mixtures. Warren Shaw recommended a use rate in Vietnam that was at least ten times or more higher than normal field use rates in the United States. Shaw eventually went to Vietnam to observe the effectiveness of the herbicide program. 2,4,5-T controls a wide-range of broadleaved and woody plants. It had been used selectively for weed control in crops, on home lawns, in forests, and in rice. The testing in Puerto Rico and South Vietnam revealed that the n-butyl ester of 2,4,5-T used in combination with the n-butyl ester of 2,4-D6 effectively eliminated nearly all unwanted broadleaved plants. When 2,4,5-T is manufactured, temperature control is required to minimize formation of an undesirable, nonphytotoxic contaminant-2,3,7,8-tetrachloroparadioxin. It is one member of a family of compounds know as dioxins and is a potent teratogen. Approximately 65 percent of the herbicides used in Vietnam contained 2,4,5-T, which was contaminated with varying levels of dioxin (Stellman et al., 2003). A teratogen can cause terata, or birth defects, when pregnant women are exposed. Dioxins also cause chloracne, a skin condition characterized by blisters and irritation. There was never any debate about whether the dioxin contaminant in 2,4,5-T was a teratogen or caused chloracne. Most of the concern and debate ensued because of the unknown level of exposure and harm to Vietnamese citizens, Vietnam era servicemen, and pregnant women to the dioxin contaminant. In 1962, 15,000 gallons of Agent Orange was sprayed over Vietnam. By 1966, 2.28 million gallons had been sprayed (Quick, 2008). The undeniable pursuit of biological warfare ended in 1970 due to increasing public and Congressional concern over the potential human and actual ecological dangers of the herbicides that by 1970 had been sprayed on a seventh of Vietnam’s total land area. The phenoxy herbicides in Agent Orange surely have ecological effects and caused ecological harm. There is still debate about whether the herbicides caused human harm but it is certain that the dioxin contaminant in Agent Orange had and has the potential to cause human harm. The official history of Operation Ranch Hand was written by James Clary, a U.S. Air Force officer. Clary admitted in a Congressional hearing conducted by Senator Daschle of South Dakota that, “When we initiated the herbicide program in the 1960s we were aware of the potential for damage due to dioxin contamination in the herbicide. We were even aware that the military formulation had a higher dioxin concentration than the civilian version due to lower cost and the desired (if not mandated) speed of manufacture. However, because the material was to be used on the enemy, none of us were overly concerned” (Quick, 2008). Clary’s comment is, one assumes, typical of the attitude of military people toward whoever is defined as the enemy. His words are reflective of General U.S. Grant’s7 comments on the art of war. 6
The combination was Agent Orange, which was also formulated with the n-butyl ester of 2,4-D and the isooctyl ester of 2,4,5-T. 7 Brinton, John Hill., 1914. Personal memoirs of J. H. Brinton, Major and Surgeon U.S.V., 1861– 1865, p. 239.
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The art of war is simple enough. Find out where your enemy is. Get at him as soon as you can. Strike him as hard as you can, and keep moving on.
The aim of war is to win. Whether using Agent Orange and other herbicides as weapons of war was a good thing in Vietnam will be debated for many years. Their use in a war is a part of the story of weed science in the United States. In April 1970, 2,4,5-T was banned from most U.S. domestic uses by the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency.
The substituted urea herbicides8 Discovery and development of the herbicidal properties of the substituted ureas began shortly after the end of WWII. Thompson and colleagues (1946) reported the biological effects relative to 2,4-D of a large number of different compounds that included 82 urea derivatives. They recommended further testing of the urea derivatives. None of the ultimately successful urea herbicides were include in the Thompson study. As reported above, Bucha and Todd (1951), who worked for duPont subsequently described the herbicidal activity of CMUmonuron on annual and perennial grasses. It became the first successful urea herbicide. Todd was granted a series of U.S. patents in 1953, which covered the use of several substitute ureas as herbicides (Geissbühler et al., 1975). Subsequently, the duPont Corporation developed several substituted ureas as herbicides. Initially the herbicides were promoted as industrial (non-selective) weed killers. Later their potential as selective herbicides was recognized. After the initial duPont work, several companies became interested in urea herbicides and practical success was often achieved. The possibilities for structural variation are virtually limitless and many avenues were explored. C. W. Todd of duPont deserves the credit for development of the first useful herbicides, each based on the central urea structure with a non-halogenated or a halogenated aromatic hydrocarbon moiety. The several structural variations available by the mid-1970s are shown in Geissbühler and colleagues (1975).
The triazine herbicides There were only a few herbicides available for weed control in the early 1950s. If one excludes the inorganic chemicals, the phenols, cresols, and TCA, the most successful available products were 2,4-D and MCPA. There were only
8
No comprehensive history of the development of the substituted ureas was discovered. This account is based on Geissbühler and associates (1975).
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a few others. These included the carbamate IPCChem-hoe marketed by Pittsburgh Plate Glass Co., Sesone marketed as Crag I by AmChem Products, Inc., endothal, maleic hydrazide, naptalamalanap and dyanap. The first substituted urea, monuron, which created the per-emergence control concept, was marketed by duPont (Knüsli, 1970). Amino triazole was known but not yet marketed. What was apparent was the great interest on the part of a rapidly increasing number of chemical companies in pre-emergence weed control. J. R. Geigy, Ltd. of Basel, Switzerland began to look at the symmetrical triazines as potential herbicides between 1950 (synthesis work began in 1952) and 1970 (Müller, 2008). The first Swiss patent was granted August 6, 1954 and the first products were marketed in Switzerland in 1956. The first U.S. patent was granted June 23, 1959. Simazine was approved for use in Switzerland on December 3, 1956. Knüsli (1970) suggests four possible sources of the impetus to examine the triazines but does not confirm the real reason for pursuing the triazines, except that the work began with existing structures known to have an effect on plants. One path may have been to begin with the maleic hydrazide structure which could easily be converted to a symmetrical triazine ring. The second could have been synthesis beginning with the known herbicidal activity of amino triazole. Knüsli (1970) noted that the antimitotic activity of triazines that bore the ethyleneamino radical might have been the right lead. Finally, because Geigy was a broad-based pharmaceutical and dye company, the chemists were certainly aware of parallel activity noted in other fields between analogous structures of triazines and ureas. He illustrates the point with structures of anti-malarial drugs and vat-dyestuffs. None of the first substituted 4,6-diaklyamino-s-triazines showed desirable herbicidal activity until, in 1952, the 3,5 diethyl 1-chloro (or-6-chloroN,N’-diethyl) structure was tested. It was named Simazine and its activity and selectivity led to the development of a large series of similar structures that in large measure created the possibility of pre-emergence weed control in several crops, most notably corn and cotton. Müller’s (2008) paper describes the chemical pathways that were followed to yield the several successful herbicides developed primarily by Geigy. The Geigy scientists not only developed a new pre-emergence control technology, they also developed what are now common, but were then revolutionary, herbicide screening methods: growth inhibition of bean epicotyls, germination inhibition of seeds of cucumber, mustard, onion, and oats, and the effects of foliar treatment of cotton and other plants grown in the greenhouse. Giegy’s work was revolutionary in terms of rates. The screening began with rates of 5 and 10 kg of active ingredient per hectare (ai/ha). Scientists discovered that weed control could be achieved at rates as low as 0.5 kg ai/ha, even though corn tolerated rates above 10 kg ai/ha. Rates of 0.5 kg were well below the use rates for all commercial herbicides (Müller, 2003). Simazine was approved in the United States for industrial uses in 1957 and for agricultural use in 1958. It immediately set a new standard for weed control in corn. Simazine was gradually replaced by atrazine beginning in 1958.
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The dinitroanilines9 Dinitroanilines were known as dye intermediates for decades prior to their introduction as selective herbicides in the early 1960s. Reflecting their origin as dye intermediates, most of the successful dinitroaniline herbicides were yellow and easily stained many things including human skin. Their color was unique among herbicides but, in the view of many, their potential was impeded by the fact that most were volatile and soil incorporation with or immediately after application was required. The criticism was that farmers would not accept the necessity of another task (incorporation) when other post-emergence (2,4-D) or pre-emergence (triazine) herbicides that did not require incorporation were available. The efforts of scientists of the Elanco products division of the Eli Lilly Corporation combined with the selectivity of the dinitroanilines in several crops where no effective herbicides had been available convinced American farmers that required incorporation was reasonable. Phytotoxic studies with 2,4-dinitroaniline were first reported on beans in 1955 (Probst et al., 1975). Early work by Alder and colleagues (1960) and Soper et al. (1961) established that 2,6-dinitroanilines had significantly more herbicidal activity than 2,4- or 2,3-dinitroanilines. The most successful dinitroaniline, trifluralin (Treflan™) was released for use on food crops in October 1964 (Probst et al., 1975). It was followed by at least nine other commercially successful dinitroaniline herbicides. Most have been especially useful for the selective pre-emergence control of a wide range of grasses and broadleaf weeds in crops as diverse as tomatoes, tobacco, and cotton.
Paraquat and diquat10 Jealott’s Hill International Research Centre has been a leading site of innovation in agricultural research since 1928. In 1926, Nitram Ltd., a subsidiary of Brunner, Mond & Co. Ltd. was created to sell sulfate of ammonia and other nitrogenous fertilizers. The company was created because of shortage of nitrogen-based products for use in explosives and fertilizers caused by World War I. Sir Frederick Keeble joined Nitram and accepted the responsibility for developing an agricultural research program. He convinced the board of directors of Imperial Chemical Industries that an agricultural research station and demonstration farm were essential to the company’s progress and Jealott’s Hill near Bracknell in Berkshire was purchased. Jealott’s Hill scientists were central to the development of the Haber-Bosch process to produce nitrogen fertilizer. 9
No comprehensive history of the development of the dinitroaniline herbicides was discovered. This account is based on Probst and associates (1975). 10 Most of the information in this section was obtained from Collins, I., 2003. Syngenta 75—Celebrating 75 years of scientific excellence at Jealott’s Hill International Research Center. See www.syngenta.com (accessed 02.11.08 and from Peacock (1978).
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As reported above, Jealott’s Hill scientists (primarily Templeman) were involved in the early discovery of the selective herbicidal properties of substituted acetic acids, which led to the discovery and commercialization of 2,4-D, MCPA, and other auxin herbicides. They were among the leaders in discovery and development of the insecticidal properties of the gamma isomer of benzene hexachloride (Lindane). The first low-volume crop sprayer was developed at Jealott’s Hill. The facility, now part of Syngenta, is still active in agricultural research. Among the more important and enduring discoveries of the Jealott’s Hill group was the 1954 discovery by Dr. William Boon and his colleagues of the herbicidal properties of paraquat, which was first released in 1958 and is still used in more than 120 countries. The research program in the early 1950s followed the early and very successful introduction of the phenoxy acids and was directed toward discovering new compounds with selective herbicidal action (Peacock, 1978). In 1947, field observations had recorded that the quaternary salt of dodecyltrimethylammonium bromide, which had been used as a surfactant, was quite phytotoxic. Similar to many observations, it was recorded and forgotten. In 1954, a number of chemical relatives (the quaternaries) were re-tested and several had herbicidal properties. R. L. Jones selected a number of quaternary salts from the dyestuff collection and all were tested by J. Stubbs and R. C. Brian at Jealott’s Hill. Nearly all, even at the minimally acceptable rate of 10 lb/acre, were in Peacock’s (1978) term, “uninspiring.” There were two exceptions both of which killed all test plants at rates as low as one tenth pound per acre (lb/acre). Interest grew rapidly in the herbicidal potential of the quaternaries. After further testing, two compounds were found to be the most active. They were N,N-ethylene-2,2-bipyridylium dibromide or diquat and 1,1-dimethyl-4,4bipyridylium dichloride or paraquat, the more active of the two. Much of the early research on paraquat and diquat was directed at defining their best uses and their mode-of-action. Both inhibit photosynthesis but differently than other known herbicides. The specific action is the reduction of molecular oxygen to a toxic superoxide radical. This results in rapid bleaching of photosynthetic tissue and rapid plant death. The properties of the quaternary compounds were interesting if not curious and a long way from the ideal that was sought. Both were very effective at killing nearly all green vegetation very rapidly after application, although diquat was not translocated to the rhizomes and roots of perennial grasses and the plants regrew within a few weeks. They were also immediately inactivated on contact with soil, and so had no soil activity or persistence. Finally, both lacked any sign of selectivity—they killed all plants after foliar application. ICI’s Jealott’s Hill scientists faced a dilemma. They had discovered a new class of herbicide chemistry that had significant foliar activity at low doses, but no selectivity and no soil persistence. The prevailing opinion was that without selectivity in any crop and without the possibility of soil (pre-emergence application) the future looked dim for further development.
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W. R. Boon of ICI at Jealott’s Hill saw opportunity where everyone else saw problems. His vision and persistence overcame the problems others saw and led to new farming technologies based on quaternary chemistry. Diquat’s use was limited because of its failure to control perennial grasses. It was quite effective for weed management in coffee and rubber plantations (paraquat was more effective) and for potato vine dessication. It was soon discovered that when paraquat was applied in combination with a residual herbicide such as diuron or simazine the effects endured and the combination was more efficacious than either herbicide applied alone. Perhaps the most revolutionary and enduring effect of paraquat has been its use as a substitute for tillage on land that due to topography, stones, or moisture could not be tilled easily or effectively. Such land could be restored to good pasture or grazing land productivity by substituting paraquat for tillage. Selectivity and soil persistence did not matter. Land restoration was the goal and paraquat achieved that easily and effectively.
Monsanto herbicides and the roundup story11 John F. Queeney founded Monsanto in 1901 with $1,500 of his own money and $3,500 of borrowed funds. The money was all spent quickly. The first product was saccharin produced on Valentine’s Day 1902. The company made its first profit in 1905 and was producing caffeine, vanilla, phenacetin (acetophenetidin, a medicinal product to treat fever and reduce pain), in addition to saccharin. No agricultural products were produced until 1935 when pentachlorophenol, a water and wood treatment was discovered to have herbicidal activity in Hawaiian sugarcane. Monsanto began a screening program for insecticides and made and marketed DDT. The company held the first patent (as a plasticizer) on the organo-phosphate insecticide parathion, which was developed and sold by American Cyanamid, under license from Monsanto. Monsanto manufactured 2,4-D and 2,4,5-T following WWII. In the early 1950s there were at least one hundred companies vying for a position in the developing agricultural chemicals market. Monsanto’s management had set a goal of finding pre-emergence herbicides. Their first success was created by cooperation between Phil Hamm, a biologist hired to screen herbicides, who stressed finding something to control giant foxtail and other annual grasses in corn and A. J. Speziale, an organic chemist, who became the agricultural division’s Director of Research in 1963. Because of the success of 2,4-D and its chemical relatives the conventional wisdom was that herbicides were most effective or perhaps only effective after weeds had emerged. Pre-emergence control was a new idea. Hamm had observed an effect of chloroacetanilide chemicals on grass tilling and he and Speziale chose to concentrate on that chemical group. After testing about fifty candidates, they found Randox™ in 1952. It is an alpha 11
The principal sources are Phillion (1990) and Franz and associates (1997).
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chloroacetamide and was the first successful pre-emergence grass herbicide. Vegadex™ was discovered soon after. Continued synthesis and screening led to Avadex™ and Avadex BW™ in 1961 and 1962 for pre-emergence wild oat control in small grains. Ramrod™ herbicide was synthesized by John Olin. It is chemically related to Randox but had the advantage of controlling broadleaf and grass weeds. It was first marketed in 1965. In 1964, 5,211 candidate chemicals were screened as potential herbicides, four were sent to the product development division in 1965. One of them, also synthesized by John Olin became Lasso™, which became one of Monsanto’s most successful herbicides after it was first marketed in 1969. The most successful herbicide ever developed, Roundup™ was first tested as a herbicide in mid-1970. Its story began much earlier in Monsanto’s inorganic division where in 1960 chemists devised a new, efficient method for preparation of tertiary aminomethyl phosphonic acids. These chemicals were of interest because of their potential use as water metal complexing agents, detergents, and as water softening agents (Franz et al., 1997, pp. 17–18; Magin, 2003). Phil Hamm, Monsanto’s manager of herbicide screening, was a firm believer in testing all new compounds for herbicidal activity regardless of where in the company they had been synthesized, because one never knew what structures might have potential. The water softening chemicals were tested and two showed some activity (one became the plant growth regulator, Polaris™ and the other became Roundup). The initial activity of the aminomethyl phosphonic acids was too low to be of commercial interest (Franz et al., 1997; Grossbard and Atkinson, 1984). Hamm was very interested in finding compounds that would control perennial weeds and was sure something was there. He thought there was potential and encouraged Franz, an organic chemist, to make analogs and derivatives. None were promising. Franz had the insight to wonder if a biochemical approach might reveal oxidative plant metabolites of the compounds that would have different activity (Franz et al., 1997, p. 21). He synthesized several. Glyphosate was the third one made in May 1970. It was tested in July and everyone involved in its evaluation knew it was something special. There were problems and not all were enthusiastic because, similar to paraquat, glyphosate was not selective, it killed nearly every plant it contacted and many within Monsanto had trouble seeing the market potential. It had the apparent advantage, similar to paraquat and diquat, of no soil activity, but not all were sure that was an advantage. Farmers seemed uniformly enthusiastic because of the perennial weed (especially grass) control. Development proceeded rapidly with the first report of its herbicidal activity in a short paper (5 pages) by Baird and associates in 1971. Glyphosate was first commercialized as Roundup in Malaysia for rubber and in the United Kingdom for wheat, in 1974. The first U.S. approval, also in 1974, was for industrial, non-crop uses. It was approved for agricultural use in 1976. It is now approved for use in more than one hundred crops in more than 130 countries for control of more than three hundred weed species. Glyphosate controls seventy-six of the world’s seventy-eight worst
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weeds, does not persist in soil, and has no toxicity to other life forms (Grossbard and Atkinson, 1984). It is the largest selling (Franz et al., 1997, pp. xiii, 7), most profitable herbicide ever marketed. Roundup and the other successful herbicides were responsible for the agricultural division being raised to company status within Monsanto in 1975. Finding Roundup was not the result of anyone having the insight to identify the aminomethyl phosphonic acids as potential herbicides. It was the result of a well-designed herbicide screening program, the careful biological observations of Phil Hamm, and the chemical insight of John Franz. The result has been annual sales in excess of $3 billion, larger than the next ten agri-chemical products combined (Magin, 2003). The Roundup story has four phases: the first was development for perennial weed control, the second was introduction for residential and non-farm applications, the third was use in conservation tillage and for pre-harvest drying. The final and still growing stage began with the introduction of Roundup Ready™ technology in a series of crops (Magin, 2003). The original glyphosate patent expired September 20, 2000. Glyphosate and the associated Roundup and Roundup Ready technologies are Monsanto’s most profitable products. An interesting part of the glyphosate story is that when the structure was first prepared at Monsanto, all believed it was a new composition of matter and patenting would present no problems. A very thorough literature search revealed that the Stauffer Chemical Company had patented the synthesis and uses of some aminomethyl phosphonic acids in 1964 but did not report any herbicidal activity. One use of phosphonic acids was in preparation of phosphonic acids and glyphosate had been prepared but not tested as a herbicide. In 1971, Franz and colleagues (1997, p. 22) reported that glyphosate was actually for sale in the 1966 edition of the Aldrich Library of Rare Chemicals. They assumed Aldrich must have acquired the chemical from Stauffer, but that was not true. Franz and associates (1997, p. 22) report that Dr. Henri Martin who worked for Cilag, a small Swiss pharmaceutical company, had synthesized 7 grams of glyphosate in 1950, using a procedure similar to what Franz used in 1970. Martin’s synthesis was not reported in the chemical literature and the compound was of no interest to Cilag. It was forgotten and even though Martin worked in herbicide development for Ciba-Geigy for 15 years, he never evaluated glyphosate for herbicidal activity. Other chemical companies purchased glyphosate samples from Aldrich after they purchased Cilag’s inventory in 1959 (Franz et al., 1997, p. 22). Thus, it appears that there were several opportunities to discover glyphosate’s herbicidal properties. Monsanto succeeded because Phil Hamm was determined to find a systemic herbicide to control perennial weeds and developed a program with colleagues at Monsanto to achieve that goal. One complete story of the development, chemistry, physiology, toxicology, and environmental behavior of glyphosate is found in Grossbard and Atkinson (1984). Franz wrote the first chapter of the book. Thirteen years later the book by Franz and colleagues (1997) presented a more complete picture of glyphosate.
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The sulfonylurea herbicides The sulfonylurea herbicides were discovered by George Levitt, a duPont chemist. The first sulfonylurea was synthesized by Levitt in 1957 after he joined duPont’s agricultural products division as a research chemist (Canine, 1995, p. 205).12 His task, similar to other chemists, was to create as many new chemical structures as possible so they could be tested for biological activity in duPont’s greenhouses and field testing facilities. The duPont corporation, an early entry into herbicide development, had developed the phenyl urea herbicides in the 1950s. The Geigy Corporation of Switzerland had developed the triazine herbicides about the same time. The herbicides in both chemical groups were effective on a wide range of weeds and selective in some crops. Both groups inhibited photosynthesis but were chemically distinct. It may have seemed logical to combine the structures and create a new class of very potent but selective photosynthetic inhibitors. On the other hand, the work may have proceeded from Levitt’s first sulfonylurea compounds, which were synthesized for quite different reasons. The duPont system was similar to that used by most other companies engaged in herbicide development. Chemists synthesized novel structures and a small amount of each was sent to biologists who ran a screening program to detect potential activity in one of several potential markets: herbicide, fungicide, insecticide, plant growth regulator, and pharmaceutical. Biologists looked for any hint of activity and when something, however slight, was detected, they consulted with chemists to determine how the structure could be modified to see if the slight activity noted would improve. The chemists were really groping in the dark until the biologists, who, at least, had effects to observe, detected something. George Levitt was not a superstar among the chemists. He had a steady production of about 150 novel structures each year, whereas some chemists made twice that many. Levitt studied the chemical literature to see what others were making and what the results were, to find leads for his own synthesis efforts (Canine, 1995, p. 203). He knew that the diabetic drug Orinase had an unusual molecular structure and within the chemical group each shared a side chain beginning with a sulfur atom that was a bridge between two benzene rings. The chemical group was called the sulfonylureas. Levitt knew Orinase was a drug but thought if he manipulated the structure, other more interesting biological activity might be discovered. He made several novel structures by manipulating the structure around the sulfur bridge and nothing turned up. So he did what any reasonable person would do. He moved on in other promising directions. Canine (1995, p. 204) reports that “seventeen years later, in 1974, another duPont scientist—an entomologist—Cy Sharp” was looking through old chemical files at the duPont experiment station for something that might kill mite eggs. Levitt’s, now old, sulfonylureas 12
Much of the information herein about the discovery of sulfonylurea herbicides is from Canine (1995).
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were tried in the mite-egg screen and one showed some promise. Sharp and Levitt consulted and Levitt tried to change the structure of the one that had slight activity to see if it could be improved. Because what he created were new structures, Levitt also submitted them to the biologists for screening in the usual array of biological activity screening programs. One compound showed activity at 2 kg/ha as a plant growth regulator. Plants sprayed with it grew only half a large as untreated controls. It was a lead in the random world of chemical synthesis, so Levitt and his group began to synthesize hundreds of new structures using the structure that showed a bit of activity, as a plant growth regulator, as their starting point. Each was submitted to the agricultural screening program and things began to happen. Several of the new structures had herbicidal activity and as Levitt and his group of chemists made slight but logical changes in the structure, activity increased. The chemists and the biologists were confident they were finding something new and promising, but they had a long way to go with the expected hurdle of internal company approval and then moving on to market. There were slight wiggles of activity and many compounds with no activity, but a pattern began to emerge and the chemists and biologists began to detect a predictable relationship between molecular structure and biological activity. Dave Lancaster (Canine, 1995, p. 206) was the biologist in charge of screening and in June 1975 he asked Levitt to come and see what was happening. What had happened that was so unusual was related to the screening system. In the standard system, a candidate compound was sprayed on several test plants at 2 kg/ha. It was a starting point based on the assumption that any candidate herbicide not active at that rate would not be profitable or environmentally acceptable. After a candidate chemical was sprayed, the chamber sprayer apparatus was automatically rinsed with water before another candidate was sprayed on a new set of plants. Lancaster discovered that one of Levitt’s new chemicals was so potent that the tiny residue left in the spray system after spraying and rinsing was injuring the next set of plants. This had never happened before. The compound that injured test plants because of the tiny residue left in the spray system was named Countdown by Levitt and all subsequent sulfonylureas came to be known as Countdown chemicals. The chemicals in the group were more active at much smaller doses than any herbicides had ever been. However, in spite of the high activity at very low doses, administrative hurdles appeared. Countdown herbicides were not selective and appeared to kill all plants equally well. All successful herbicides have activity but most also had to be selective. They had to kill something but not everything. The accepted wisdom based on years of experience was that without selectivity, farmers would not use them. Glyphosate is, of course, the major exception to this generalization. Testing for mammalian and other species toxicity had to be done and environmental behavior had to be determined. Chemical synthesis work continued with the intent of trying all manner of substitutions to enhance activity. The two rings with the sulfonyl bridge were retained and substitutions were tried
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in all positions on both rings. When an ester group (CO2CH3) was attached adjacent to the sulfonyl bridge, the molecule was more active than any that had ever been tested. “There was no precedent for the kind of activity...found, no precedent for the chemical structures that were involved” (Canine, 1995, p. 207). But managers at duPont were reluctant to proceed. There was great activity but the molecules were expensive to make and the herbicides would have to be priced so high that mangers thought (knew) no farmers would buy them. The managers were correct except for one important flaw in their reasoning. They assumed the sulfonylureas would be applied at the same rates (1/4 to 1 kg/ha) that were the norm for all previous successful herbicides, and they were wrong. If their rate assumption had been correct, their financial projections would have been correct and the discussion and further testing would have ended; economic rationality would have prevailed as it always had. What Levitt and his biological colleagues knew was that the sulfonylurea herbicides were more active than any herbicides had ever been. The manager’s rate assumption was off by at least an order of magnitude. The sulfonylurea herbicides were active and selective at fractions of an ounce per acre, the equivalent of a few hundredths of a pound per acre. Just as the low rates of the phenoxy acids had, these herbicides began a new era of weed control because rates could be reduced from pounds to ounces per acre. This made the sulfonylurea herbicides economically competitive and acceptable to farmers. They also had a mode-of-action that was different from all previous herbicides—they inhibited the action of the enzyme acetolactate synthase (ALS), which is essential in the biosynthesis of three branched-chain amino acids—isoleucine, leucine, and valine. As new structures in the chemical group were tested, an unprecedented thousand-fold range of activity was discovered that had not been seen in previous discoveries of herbicide activity. More than seventeen sulfonylurea herbicides with a wide range of selectivity and activity eventually were discovered and marketed.
The imidazolinone herbicides The imidazolinone herbicides were found through random screening of candidates from phthalimide chemistry where activity was found at 4 kg/ha (Los, 1991). The discovery of the imidazolinones is one part of the story of agricultural research at the American Cyanamid Co., which began as a fertilizer manufacturer. The story written by A. W. Lutz (1993), a former organic chemist with Cyanamid, has been my principal resource. The chemistry, physiology, herbicidal activity, and other details of the imidazolinones are presented in Shaner and O’Conner (1991). This is the discovery story. In 1922, American Cyanamid had annual sales of less than $5 million and earnings of less than $0.5 million. By 1929, through intentional diversification, the company produced more than 150 different products at twenty separate U.S. locations. By 1939, American Cyanamid was the fourth largest chemical
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company in the United States, with sales of $70 million and earnings of $5.5 million. For many years, the company sold more than one thousand products, including acids, lacquer resins, plasticizers, rubber accelerators, gypsum partitioning blocks, dyes, pharmaceutical intermediates, and several agricultural products (hydrogen cyanide, calcium cynamide, calcium cyanide), and ammonium phosphate fertilizers, but no herbicides. Potassium cyanate was introduced in the late 1940s for crabgrass control and for weed control in onions. It was the first product to emerge from Cyanamid’s newly formed Phosphates and Nitrogen division. It worked fairly well but never became a major agricultural herbicide. Cyanamid achieved notable success in herbicide development with products such as amitrole (see above), difenzoquat (Avenge™) for wild oat control in cereals, and pendimethalin (Prowl™) for grass control in a range of crops. The greatest success was discovery of the imidazolinone herbicides, a new class of herbicide chemistry by a chemist in the Lederle division of American Cyanamid. Marinus Los was the chemist whose “ingenuity and insight” (Lutz, 1993, p. 152) created the herbicides. Los was awarded the patent and several other company and national awards for his work. The work began in 1970 with a phthalimide that had shown some herbicidal activity at 4 kg/ha. It had been in the chemical files since 1956, having been discovered by a chemist in the Lederle division of American Cyanamid, to have anti-convulsant activity. One new structure from the synthesis project showed growth regulator activity similar to natural gibberellic acid. Lutz (1993) presented the progression of chemical structures that yielded the first imidazolinone herbicide (Imazamethabenz, Assert™) in 1975. By 1980, other compounds in the chemical group with herbicidal activity had been synthesized and, surely to the amazement of everyone, they all had activity an order of magnitude lower (in grams or fractions of a gram per hectare) than previously known classes of herbicide chemistry. (See Lutz, 1993, Shaner and O’Conner, 1991 for details of the chemical evolution of imidazolinones.) Use rates were similar to duPont’s sulfonylureas. The second interesting aspect of the imidazolinones is that their mechanism of action, inhibition of acetolactate synthase (ALS) (also known as acetohydroxyacid synthase, AHAS) was different from all previous classes of herbicide chemistry but identical to the sulfonylureas developed at about the same time. Throughout the 1970s and early 1980s, a series of candidate imidazolinones were created, many looked very promising in the greenhouse but failed in the field. By 1981, the company was eager to let it be known that the work had revealed one imidazolinone that selectively controlled blackgrass and wild oats in cereals, a broad spectrum herbicide for soybeans, and a non-selective product for total vegetation control. These began to be marketed by the mid-1980s and several other imidazolinones with different selectivity followed. The story is one of intensive chemical synthesis work based on a lead discovered among previous test molecules that had activity similar to natural gibberellin followed by greenhouse and field work to establish the group’s herbicidal potential and market possibilities.
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References Ahrens, W.H., 1994. Herbicide Handbook, seventh ed. Weed Science Society of America, Champaign, IL, 352 pp. Akamine, E.K., 1948. Plant growth regulators as selective herbicides. Hawaii Agric. Exp. Stn. Circ. 26, 1–43. Alder, E.F., Wright, W.L., Soper, Q.F., 1960. Control of seedling grasses in turf with diphenylacetonitrile and a substituted dinitroaniline. Proc. North Central Weed Control Conf. 17, 23–24. Alder, E.F., Wright, W.L., Klingman, G.C., 1977. Development of the American herbicide industry. In: Plimmer, J.R. (Ed.), Pesticide Chemistry in the 20th Century. American Chemical Society Symposium Series 37 (Chapter 3). Anonymous, 1960. The Nature and Fate of Chemicals Applied to Soils, Plants, and Animals. ARS 20-9. U.S. Department of Agriculture, Washington, DC, 221 pp. Anonymous, 1989. Herbicide Handbook, sixth ed. Weed Science Society of America, Champaign, IL, 301 pp. Anonymous 1995. Common and chemical names of herbicides approved by the Weed Science Society of America. Weed Sci. 43, 328–336. Anonymous, 2004, Common and chemical names of herbicides approved by the Weed Science Society of America. Weed Sci. 52, 1054–1060. Appleby, A.P., 1993. The Western Society of Weed Science 1938–1992. The Western Society of Weed Science, Newark, CA, 177 pp. Appleby, A.P., 2005. A history of weed control in the United States and Canada—a sequel. Weed Sci. 53, 762–768. Appleby, A.P., 2006. Weed Science Society of America—Origin and Evolution—The First 50 Years. Weed Science Society of America, Lawrence, KS, 63 pp. Baird, D.D., Upchurch, R.P., Homesley, W.B., Franz, J.E., 1971. Introduction of a new broadspectrum postemergence herbicide class with utility for herbaceous perennial weed control. Proc. North Central Weed Control Conf. 26, 64–68. Behrens, R., 1953. Amino triazole. Proc. North Central Weed Conf. 10, 61. Bolley, H.L., 1908. Weeds and methods of eradication and weed control by means of chemical sprays. N. Dak. Agric. Coll. Exp. Stn. Bull. 80, 511–574. Bucha, H.C., Todd, C.W., 1951. 3-(p-chlorophenyl)-1,1-dimethylurea—a new herbicide. Science 114, 493–494. Buchholz, K.P., 1961. Weed control—a record of achievement. Weeds 10, 167–170. Buchholtz, K.P., 1967. Report of the terminology committee of the Weed Science. Soc. Am. Weeds 15, 388–389. Canine, C., 1995. Dream Reaper—The Story of an Old-Fashioned Inventor in the High-Tech, High-Stakes World of Modern Agriculture. A.A. Knopf, New York, NY, 300 pp. Crafts, A.S., 1960. Weed control research—past, present, and future. Weeds 8, 535–540. Crafts, A.S., 1985. Reviews of Weed Science—Dr. Alden S. Crafts. Rev. Weed Sci. 1, iv. Crafts, A.S., Robbins, W.W., 1962. Weed Control: A Textbook and Manual, third ed. McGraw-Hill, New York, NY, 660 pp. Dunham, R.S., 1973. The Weed Story. Institute of Agriculture. University of Minnesota, St. Paul, MN, 86 pp. European Weed Research Society, 1986. Constitution Eur. Weed Res. Soc. 15 pp.
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Evans, C.L., 2002. The War on Weed in the Prairie West—An Environmental History. University of Calgary Press, Calgary, Alberta, Canada, 309 pp. Franz, J.E., Mao, M.K., Sikorski, J.A., 1997. Glyphosate: A Unique Global Herbicide. ACS Monograph 189. American Chemical Society, Washington, DC, 653 pp. Geissbühler, H., Martin, H., Voss, G., 1975. The substituted ureas. In: Kearney, P.C., Kaufman, D.D. (Eds.), Herbicides Chemistry, Degradation and Mode of Action, second ed., Vol. 1. Marcel Dekker, Inc., New York, NY, pp. 209–291. Gianessi, L.P., Marcelli, M.B., 2000. Pesticide Use in U.S. Crop Production: 1997. National Center for Food and Agricultural Policy, Washington, DC. Gianessi, L.P., Sankula, S., 2003. The Value of Herbicides in U.S. Crop Production— Executive Summary. National Center for Food and Agricultural Policy, Washington, DC. Gianessi, L.P., Silvers, C.S., 2000. Trends in Crop Pesticide Use: Comparing 1992 and 1997. National Center for Food and Agricultural Policy, Washington, DC, 165 pp. Gray, G.P., 1917. Spraying for the control of wild morning—glory within the fog belt. University of California, College of Agriculture, Agricultural Experiment Station, Bulletin, Berkeley, CA, 7 pp. Grossbard, E., Atkinson, D. (Eds.), 1984. The Herbicide Glyphosate. ButterworthHeinemann Ltd., London, UK, 496 pp. Hamm, P.C., 1974. Discovery, development, and current status of the chloroacetamide herbicides. Weed Sci. 22, 541–545. Hamner, C.L., Tukey, H.B., 1944a. The herbicidal action of 2,4-dichlorophenoxy acetic and 2,4,5-trichlorophenoxyacetic acid on bindweed. Science 100, 154–155. Hamner, C.L., Tukey, H.B., 1944b. Selective herbicidal action of midsummer and fall applications of 2,4-dichlorophenoxyacetic acid. Bot. Gaz. 106, 232–245. Hilton, J.L., 2007. History and Me. Self-published, 172 pp. Holly, K., 1986. Herbicides—past, present and future. Span 29 (3), 89–91. Hopkins, W.L., 1994. Global Herbicide Directory, first ed. Agricultural Chemical Information Services, Indianapolis, IN, 181 pp. Humburg, N.E. (Ed.), 1989. Herbicide Handbook, sixth ed. Weed Science Society of America, Champaign, IL., 301 pp. Jordan, L.H., 2006. Pesticide trade shows new market trends. In: Assadourian, E. (Ed.), Vital Signs: The Trends That Are Shaping Our Future. W.W. Norton & Co., New York, NY, pp. 28–29. Kearney, P.C., Kaufman, D.D. (Eds.), 1975. Herbicides Chemistry, Degradation and Mode of Action, vols. I, II, and III. Marcel Dekker, Inc., New York, NY. Kephart, L.W., 1947. Technical and commercial aspects of 2,4-D. Agric. Chem. II (8), 25–27, 59–61. Kiely, T., Donaldson, D., Grube, A., 2004. Pesticide Industry Sales and Usage: 2000 and 2001 Market Estimates. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), Washington, DC. King, L.J., 1966. Weeds of the World: Biology and Control. Interscience Publications, Inc., New York, NY, 526 pp. Kirby, C., 1980. The Hormone Weedkillers: A Short History of Their Discovery and Development. British Crop Protection Council Pub, Croyden, UK, 55 pp. Knusli, E., 1970. History of the development of triazine herbicides. In: Gunther, F.A., Gunther, J.D. (Eds.), Residue Reviews (the Triazine Herbicides), vol. 32. Academic Press, San Diego, California, pp. 1–9. Korsmo, E., 1932. Undersok elser. 1916–1923. Over ugressets skadevirkninger og dets bekjempelse. I. Aker brucket. Johnson and Nielsens Boktrykkeri, Oslo, Norway.
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Los, M., 1991. Discovery of the imidazolinone herbicides. In: Shaner, D.L., O’Conner, S.L. (Eds.), The Imidazolinone Herbicides. CRC Press, Boca Raton, FL, pp. 1–5. Lutz, A.W., 1993. Agricultural Research at American Cyanamid Company—From Calcium Cyanamide to CYDECTIN. American Cyanamid Co., Princeton, NJ, 209 pp. Magin, R.W., 2003. Glyphosate: twenty-eight years and still growing—the discovery, development, and impact of this herbicide on the agrichemical industry. In: Volgas, G., Downer, R., Lopez, H. (Eds.), Pesticide Formulations and Application Systems 23rd International Symposium. ASTM STM 1449. ASTM International, Conshohocken, PA, pp. 149–157. Marth, P.C., Mitchell, J.W., 1944. 2,4-dichlorophenoxyacetic acid as a differential herbicide. Bot. Gaz. 106, 224–232. Morettini, A., 1915. L’impegio dell’acido sulfurico per combattere le erbe infeste nel frumento. Staz. Sper. Agr. Ital. 48, 693–716. Müller, G., 2008. History of the discovery and development of triazine herbicides. In: LeBaron, H.M., McFarland, J.E., Burnside, O.C. (Eds.), The Triazine Herbicides: 50 Years Revolutionizing Agriculture. Elsevier, New York, NY, pp. 13–29. Norman, A.G., Minarik, C.E., Weintraub, R.L., 1950. Herbicides. Annu. Rev. Plant Physiol. 1, 141–168. Peacock, F.C. (Ed.), 1978. Jealott’s Hill: Fifty Years of Agricultural Research—1928–1978. Imperial Chemical Industries, London. Perkins, J.H., Holochuck, N.C., 1993. Pesticides: historical changes demand ethical choices. In: Pimentel, D., Lehman, H. (Eds.), The Pesticide Question: Environment, Economics, and Ethics. Chapman & Hall, New York, NY, pp. 390–417. 441 pp. Peterson, G.E., 1967. The discovery and development of 2,4-D. Agric. History 41, 243–253. Phillion, L., 1990. Growing Great: The Story of Monsanto Company’s Commitment to Agricultural Technology. Monsanto Co., St Louis, MO, 73 pp. Pokorny, R., 1941. Some chlorophenoxyacetic acids. J. Am. Chem. Soc. 63, 1768. Probst, G.W., Golab, T., Wright, W.L., 1975. Dinitroanilines. In: Kearney, P.C., Kaufman, D.D. (Eds.), Herbicides Chemistry, Degradation and Mode of Action, second ed., Vol. 1. Marcel Dekker, Inc., New York, NY, pp. 453–500. Quick, B., 2008. The Boneyard—Agent orange a chapter of history that just won’t end. Orion March/April, 16–23. Rabaté, E., 1911. Destruction des revenelles par l’acid sulfurique. J d’agr. Prat (N.S. 21) 75, 497–509. Rabaté, E., 1934. La destruction des mauvaises herbes, third ed. Librairie Agricole de la Maison Rustique, Paris, France. Shaner, D.L., O’Conner, S.L. (Eds.), 1991. The Imidazolinone Herbicides. CRC Press, Boca Raton, FL., 290 pp. Shaw, W., Swanson, C.R., 1953. The relation of structural configuration to the herbicidal properties and phytotoxicity of several carbamates and other chemicals. Weeds 2, 43–65. Shaw, W.C., 1954. Recent advances in weed control in the United States. Proc. British Weed Control Conf. 23–46. Shaw, W.C., 1984. Weed science: revolution in agricultural technology. Weeds 12, 153–162. Shaw, W.C., Hilton, J.L., Moreland, D.E., Jansen, L.L., 1960. Herbicides in plants. ARS 20-9, 119–133.
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Singer, E.N., 1998. 20th Century Revolutions in Technology. Nova Science Publishers, Commack, NY. Slade, R.E., Templeman, W.G., Sexton, W.A., 1945. Plant growth substances as selective weed killers. Nature (Lond.) 155, 497–498. Smith, A.E., Secoy, D.M., 1975. Forerunners of pesticides in classical Greece and Rome. J. Agric. Food Chem. 23, 1050–1055. Smith, A.E., Secoy, D.M., 1976a. Early chemical control of weeds in Europe. Weed Sci. 24, 594–597. Smith, A.E., Secoy, D.M., 1976b. Salt as a pesticide, manure and seed steep. Agric. History 50, 506–516. Soper, Q.F., Alder, E.F., Wright, W.L., 1961. Control of seedling grasses in turf with diphenylacetonitrile and a substituted dinitroaniline. Proc. Southern Weed Conf. 14, 86–90. Specter, M., 2007. Darwin’s surprise. The New Yorker December 3, 64–71. Stellman, J.M., Stellman, S.D., Christian, R., Weber, T., Tomasallo, C., 2003. The extent and patterns of usage of Agent Orange and other herbicides in Vietnam. Nature 422, 680–686. Templeman, W.G., 1939. The effects of some plant growth substances on dry-matter production in plants. Empire J. Exp. Agric. 7, 76–88. Templeman, W.G., Marmory, C.J., 1940. The effect upon the growth of plants of watering with solutions of plant growth substances and of seed dressings containing these materials. Ann. Appl. Biol. 27, 453–471. Thompson, H.E., Swanson, C.P., Norman, A.G., 1946. New growth-regulating compounds. I. Summary of growth-inhibitory activities of some organic compounds as determined by three tests. Bot. Gaz. 107, 476–507. Timmons, F.L., 1970. A history of weed control in the United States and Canada. Weed Sci. 18, 294–307. Republished Weed Sci. 53, 748–761. Troyer, J.R., 2001. In the beginning: the multiple discovery of the first hormone herbicides. Weed Sci. 49, 290–297. US/EPA, 2004. Pesticide industry sales and usage: 2000 and 2001 market estimates. http://www.epa.gov/oppbead1/pestsales/index.htm Vencill, W.K. (Ed.), 2002. Herbicide Handbook, eighth ed. Weed Science Society of America, Lawrence, KS, 493 pp. Willard, C.J., 1951. Where do we go from here? Weeds 1, 9–12. Zimdahl, R.L., 1995. Introduction. In: Smith, A.E. (Ed.), Handbook of Weed Management Systems. Marcel Dekker, Inc., New York, NY, pp. 1–18. Zimdahl, R.L., 2007. Fundamentals of Weed Science, third ed. Academic Press, San Diego, CA, 666 pp. Zimmerman, P.W., Hitchcock, A.E., 1935. Several chemical growth substances which cause initiation of roots and other responses in plants. Contrib. Boyce Thompson Inst. 7, 209–229. Zimmerman, P.W., Hitchcock, A.E., 1942. Substituted phenoxy and benzoic acid growth substances and the relation of structure to physiological activity. Contrib. Boyce Thompson Inst. 12, 321–343.
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7 Creation and development of weed societies The pressures upon the formation of opinion are staggering, and they interfere mightily with clear deliberation … . In an open society, therefore, it is the intellectual duty of the citizen to search for the warrant for his views, to raise opinions into beliefs by means of reasons, right reasons, reasons conceived in the bravery of arguments. This is the only way to resist the regimentations of demagogues and entertainers. The justification of belief is a human adventure. And discovering the reason is like discovering the sunrise. Leon Wieseltier
Meetings to discuss weeds and weed research began with state organizations several years before regional or national organizations existed. State weed control conferences were organized in Idaho and Utah in 1931, Kansas and Wyoming in 1937, California in 1949, Washington in 1950, Oregon in 1952, Hawaii in 1953, and Montana in 1959 (Dunham, 1973; Timmons, 19701). Before any weed conferences had been organized in the United States, the Canadian National Weed Committee met in Edmonton, Alberta in 1929. It has met annually since then and eastern and western sections were organized in 1947. The Western Weed Control Conference (WWCC), organized in Denver, Colorado in 1938, was the first regional weed control conference in the United States. It was followed by The North Central Weed Control Conference (NCWCC) in 1944, the Northeastern Weed Control Conference (NEWCC) in 1947, and the last, the Southern Weed Control Conference (SWCC) began in 1948. On September 15, 1949, the Association of Regional Weed Control Conferences was organized by five men, one from each regional conference (W. S. Ball, Western; R. S. Dunham, North Central; E. C. Tullis, Southern; and H. L. Yowell, Northeast) plus L. W. Kephart from the USDA (see Appleby, 2006 for further details). They met in Kansas City, Missouri for the express purpose of discussing formation of a national association. The need for a national organization of some kind that could speak for the four regional conferences on matters of mutual or national concern was a primary issue. The delegates were to report back to each regional conference with specific recommendations on the character and function of a national organization. They sought advice from many others and all agreed there was a need for some kind of national organization but that it should not be an organization designed to hold a national weed conference that would attract all people with interest in weeds. This position was clearly in the interests 1
Much of the information on early weed organizations is from Timmons, 1970.
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of preserving the integrity and interests of the regional conferences. The collective view was that if a national organization was formed, it should be small, and composed of only a few key people whose primary function would be to act on behalf of the regional conferences on national matters. Appleby (2006, p. 2) notes that one of the headings for the minutes of the meeting was, Report of Meeting of the Temporary National Advisory Committee of the Four Weed Conferences. The superior heading was, Minutes of the Association of Regional Weed Control Conferences (ARWCC). Thus, the name of the group existed from the beginning. The delegates agreed on three objectives for a national organization: 1. To begin negotiations toward establishment of a national weed publication. It was not intended to be a “slick” publication but rather an amalgamation of existing weed newsletters that were written and distributed by F. L. Timmons (Kansas and later Wyoming) and L. M. Stahler (USDA in Lamberton, Minnesota).2 2. To cooperate with state and federal agencies and with industry on weed and seed legislation and regulation. 3. To encourage cooperation between regulatory, educational, and research groups to insure (sic) best results in weed control practices.
A second meeting with the four original representatives plus R. D. Sweet of Cornell, W. W. Worzella of South Dakota, and R. L. Lovvorn from the USDA Bureau of Plant Industry in Maryland was held in May 1950 in Kansas City, Missouri. The discussion again focused on whether or not to encourage a national meeting and on creation of a journal. Debate focused on whether the meeting should be annual or biennial and if the regional conference should be canceled in the year the national meeting was held in that region. The third meeting, in February 1951 in Memphis, Tennessee, included Ball, Sweet, and Tullis; S. M. Raleigh from Penn State; and O. E. Sell, G. M. Shear, and H. Swink from the south. Roy Lovvorn of the USDA was appointed as editor, after agreement that a new journal, Weeds, would be published. He had to decline and R. D. Sweet of Cornell became the first editor. It was clear that the North Central Conference did not favor holding a national meeting. During the fourth meeting in Washington, D.C. in 1952, Sweet reported that there were 1,025 subscribers and the journal had 96 to 128 pages in each issue. Publishing the first two issues had cost $3,164. The first four issues had 8 pages of advertising, which produced $1,600 in revenue. The eight delegates to the fourth meeting voted to hold a national meeting to be supported by the four regional conferences. The meeting was to be held in 1953 in a Midwestern city just before or after the annual meeting of the North Central Weed Conference. E. P. (Dutch) Sylwester of Iowa was elected chair of the Association, succeeding W. S. Ball of the California Department of Agriculture, who had chaired the 2
The existence and value of the Timmons newsletter has been confirmed by several sources. A few bits of information note that Stahler also published and distributed a weed newsletter but no one has any record of it.
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early meetings. Sylwester is properly regarded as a founder of the Association and of the Weed Society of America. Slywester’s many contributions were acknowledged when he was recognized as the ninth Honorary Member of the Weed Science Society of America at the 1969 annual meeting (see Chapter IV). He was the last of the Original Honorary Members because the Honorary Member designation was changed to Fellow in 1969. The fifth meeting of the ARWCC and the first national weed meeting was held December 8, 1953, in Kansas City, Missouri in conjunction with the 10th annual meeting of the NCWCC at the Hotel Muehlebach. The North Central Conference had three delegates, each of the other conferences was represented by two delegates. It was the first national weed control conference. It was clear that there was support for a national weed meeting in the scientific community. The success of the journal was clear in that there were already 1,190 subscriptions to Weeds. The sixth meeting of the ARWCC, held in Fargo, North Dakota in December 1954 in association with the NCWCC, created the Weed Society of America, which was founded by agreement of the presidents and vice presidents of each of the four regional weed societies (Appleby, 2006; Behrens, 1968). Everyone who joined the Association in 1955 became a charter member. The first meeting of the Weed Society of America was held at the Hotel New Yorker in New York City from January 4–6, 1956. The object of the Association/Society was: To encourage and promote the development of knowledge concerning weeds and their control through publishing research findings, fostering high standards of education, encouraging effective regulation, and promoting unity in all phases of weed work.
The second meeting of the Association was to be hosted by the Northeastern Conference some time in June as specified by the Association’s constitution. That meeting was never held. All of the weed conferences and societies were organized several years after comparable organizations had been organized for entomology (Entomological Society of America founded in 1906) and plant pathology (American Phytopathological Society founded in 1908). In Timmons’ (1970) view, the science of weed control became of age and began to fulfill its “destined role in the progress of agriculture and national welfare” after 1956. Primary reasons for its maturation were organization of the Weed Society of America, the activities of the Society’s several committees, and publication of the journal Weeds. From 1940 to 1968, the number of human-years devoted to weed extension work in the United States increased nineteen times and weed research work increased twenty times (Timmons, 1970). Timmons suggested that since the beginning of settled agriculture in 6000 b.c., 80 percent of the progress in weed control had been made in the era of chemical weed control that began shortly after 1941.
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Surely farmers knew about weeds and tried to control them from the beginning of farming. Because control was difficult, if not impossible, weeds were generally regarded as a burden farmers had to endure; they were just part of crop production. The only controls were incidental to crop production through hand hoeing, hand pulling, or tillage. Weeds, similar to other pests, were not things to be controlled or managed, they were inevitable consequences of crop production. Although this was a common view among farmers, it was not the view of those who organized the first weed conferences and societies. Their view was that weeds were not inevitable. They were always present but they could be combated, understood, and managed (controlled) through research. Sharing of research techniques and research results among those interested in weeds during regional conferences was regarded as essential to the successful development of weed control programs. Thus, regional conferences and the national association were major steps toward achieving the goal of searching for the warrant (justification) for views and for raising opinions into beliefs by means of reasons conceived in discussion and argument (Wieseltier, 2009). Timmons (1970) provided a good record of the early history of weed research and the founding of weed conferences. Subsequently three of the four U.S. regional conferences published a study of their early years and development. The NCWCC (Andersen, 1991), the Western Society of Weed Science (Appleby, 1993), and the Northeastern Weed Science Society (Sweet, 1996). Each of these began as a regional conference and later became a society (Table VII-1). It is interesting to note the reason each was created as a conference not as a society. R. D. Sweet of Cornell University (Appleby, 2006, p. 1) provided an explanation. In the 1930s and 1940s, “universities and governmental organizations often would not pay expenses for attending a society meeting, but attending a ‘conference’ sounded more like official work and attendees were usually reimbursed for expenses.” The reports of the early years of the three regional weed conferences are valuable contributions Table VII-1 Year weed conferences changed to weed science societies Name
Year Weed Control Conference was founded
Year name was changed to Weed Science Society
Western Weed Control Conference
1938
1968
North Central Weed Control Conference
1944
1989
Northeastern Weed Control Conference
1947
1970
Southern Weed Control Conference
1948
1969
Weed Society of America
1956
1967
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to the historical record. Each reports, in a slightly different format, who was involved, what happened, and where events took place. The format common to all three is compilation of who, what, and where arranged chronologically by annual meetings. Each provides a strikingly similar view of the reasons for the conference’s creation, but each of the authors makes only a limited attempt to interpret their accurate presentation of what happened in terms of why events proceeded as they did. Each of the regional stories gives the reasons the conference was formed and describes their quite similar programs that involved presentation of research results, discussions of the problems attendant on the increasing requirements for federal registration (use approval) of herbicides, new methods of herbicide application, toxicity of herbicides to non-target species, environmental behavior and fate of herbicides, and the need for better public relations. The following summary of the three available conference histories (no similar book has been prepared by the southern society) includes some analysis of why their development proceeded as it did. A brief description of similar activities in Canada is included. That is followed by a section on development of the Weed Science Society of America (WSSA). The chapter concludes with a review commentary on the published addresses of WSSA presidents from the founding of the society through 2000. It is a summary of what the society has emphasized, what its major concerns and goals have been, and how the presidents have addressed what they considered to be the seven most important issues for weed science.
The Western Society of Weed Science The Western plant quarantine board was organized in Riverside, California, in May 1919. The board was composed mainly of entomologists whose primary task was to create quarantine regulations and methods to prevent the entry of foreign insects, weeds, and other pests into the western states. During the 18th annual meeting of the quarantine board in Boise, Idaho in June 1936, H. L. Spence, an extension agronomist at the University of Idaho, presented a paper “Our Weed Problem.”3 A. S. Crafts, in his unpublished history of the western weed control conference 1936–1954, thought Spence’s paper was well done and included it verbatim in his history. Spence reported that the agricultural service department of the U.S. Chamber of Commerce had determined that the annual bill due to weeds in the United States was $3 billion or $25 for every man, woman, and child in the country. A bill for $3 billion in 1936 was an enormous amount of money. The individual share of $25, while trivial now, was quite significant in 1936. Then a rich person was a millionaire, 3
To the best of my knowledge, Spence’s paper was never published. It and the history by Crafts are in the archives of the Weed Science Society of America in Parks Library at Iowa State University, Ames, Iowa. One of Crafts’ goals was to encourage each regional conference to prepare a similar document and to have the national society publish the collection. Neither was ever achieved.
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no one spoke of billionaires, probably because there were none. The total U.S. gross domestic product in 1936 was $83.8 billion and total federal revenue was $5.2 billion. In 1941 the average U.S. family had about $10 left in disposable income each week after all essential bills were paid (Halberstam, 1993, p. 473). A nice suburban home cost about $5,000, or twice a family’s yearly income (p. 131). Losses due to weeds were very large by any standard but other than a few agronomists and farmers, few people were aware of weeds or the losses they caused. The first regional conference grew from the plant quarantine board, which recognized the breadth and seriousness of the weed problem in western states and unanimously resolved to request that the U.S. Secretary of Agriculture create a national weed committee. The committee was to be composed of four members, one from each regional quarantine board. They were to confer directly with the Secretary of Agriculture to establish a national weed control office within the U.S. Bureau of Plant Industry. The Western resolution directed that the new office pay particular attention to satisfactory and economical methods of noxious weed eradication, control of noxious weeds on federal and state lands, and prevention of movement of noxious weed seed in other seed stocks entering the United States. There is no available record of what happened at the federal level as a result of the Plant Quarantine Board’s resolution. However, during the 2 years following the 1936 meeting of the quarantine board, work on the organization of the Western Weed Control Conference was carried out by Spence, W. Ball of the California Department of Agriculture, W. W. Robbins of the Botany Department of the California College of Agriculture (later the University of California at Davis), G. R. Hyslop of the Department of Agronomy of the Oregon College of Agriculture (later Oregon State University), G. Schweis of Nevada, C. L. “Jack” Corkins of Wyoming, and others. It seems apparent that Spence’s paper and the action of the Plant Quarantine Board led to formation of the western weed control conference and a subsequent meeting in August 1937 of representatives from six western states in Boise, Idaho with Henry A. Wallace, the U.S. Secretary of Agriculture (Appleby, 1993, p. 1). The purpose of the 1937 meeting was to present to Wallace a picture of weed problems in the western states. There is no record of Wallace’s response or what happened at the federal level because of the meeting. The meeting was the only time a U.S. Secretary of Agriculture met to speak to or listen to those who worked on weeds until 1964 when Secretary Orville Freeman addressed the Weed Society of America. One result of the 1937 meeting was a decision by those who met that an annual meeting of some kind be organized to bring weed workers in the west together to discuss their work and new ideas. Appleby (2006) reported that the records of the Western States Weed Control Committee mention an organizational meeting in Tacoma, Washington, but no records of the meeting exist. The first meeting of the Western Weed Control Conference was held in conjunction with the annual meeting of the Plant Quarantine Board in Denver in June 1938
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(Appleby, 1993). The meeting included representatives from eleven western states (Arizona, California, Colorado, Idaho, Montana, New Mexico, Nevada, Oregon, Utah, Washington, and Wyoming) plus representatives from Kansas and Nebraska, a representative from Oregon of the Indian Service, and a representative of the USDA, each of whom presented a report on weed work. Appleby (1993) presents details on who attended and what was said at the 1938 meeting. The Conference had lofty goals. The object was to foster other regional weed organizations and a national weed control organization. Seven goals are outlined by Appleby (1993): 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.
To cooperate with other regions and agencies in the solution of weed problems. To encourage national and state research on weed control. To foster educational work on weeds through all appropriate agencies. To formulate plans for organized weed control programs. To function as a clearinghouse on weed matters. To assist in the development of uniform weed, seed, and quarantine legislation in the states. 7. To foster adequate national weed, seed, and quarantine legislation.
Each of these was a large task and while much has been accomplished on weed, seed, and quarantine laws and toward creation of a national and regional weed societies, the research, education, and organization goals, not surprisingly, require continuing effort. They were ambitious goals for a small group each of whom paid $1 in annual membership dues. Much of the early work in the western states focused on control of perennial weeds, strengthening of state laws, and creation of a federal seed law to control interstate movement of weed seeds in crop seeds. Early conferences included discussions among attendees as a regular part of the program; a tradition that has continued as a valued part of present society meetings. Early meetings (the conference has met every year since 1938, except 1943 due to WWII) emphasized the importance of perennial weed control and the effectiveness of the few available herbicides (e.g., petroleum oil, sodium chlorate, borax, sinox). Tillage was a primary tool for weed control. The cost of hand weeding often exceeded $450 per acre and made the search for alternative methods more urgent. It is clear from the story of the western society that perennial weeds dominated early meetings and are still important to western weed scientists. The methods of control have changed but as Appleby (1993, p. 147) points out “many of the problems and thought processes have not changed since 1938.” His comment could be interpreted as praise for the strength and ubiquity of weeds or as an indictment of the thought processes of weed scientists. The conference was organized by men who worked for universities or for the Agricultural Research Service (ARS) of the USDA who became their states’ representatives. The introduction of 2,4-D encouraged representatives of commercial organizations (primarily chemical companies) to attend conference meetings. The public employees who had organized and run the conference were fearful that the many chemical company representatives in attendance would
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take over the conference. Company people were restricted to associate membership although the companies were welcomed as sustaining members (financial supporters) of the conference. This policy continued until President C. I. Seeley of the University of Idaho proposed to the membership in 1952 that commercial representatives should be accorded the same rights and privileges as public institution members. This was unanimously approved in 1954 and the constitution was changed to welcome all as equal members (Appleby, 1993, p. 70, statement from Seeley). A feature of Appleby’s History of the Western Society of Weed Science that may be of interest to many is the inclusion of brief biographies of many of the founders of the western conference and subsequent participants in affairs of the society. It is important that we remember who the men were (in the early days all were men and all the biographies [58] are of men) and what they contributed to weed science. They are those upon whose shoulders we stand.4 They gave us a view of what could be accomplished. The western society published Weeds of the West (Whitson, 1991). It includes color pictures and botanical descriptions of nearly all of the major weeds of the western United States. The book has been well received by weed scientists. The ninth printing was in 2006. Several other publications are available on the society’s Web site (http://www.wsweedscience.org). Member states now include the original eleven plus Alaska, Hawaii, North Dakota, Nebraska, Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas. Except for Hawaii, each new state is also a member of another regional conference. The Western Society now also includes the Canadian provinces of Alberta, British Columbia, and Saskatchewan.
The North Central Weed Science Society The North Central Conference, formed in 1944, was created by agronomists and weed scientists who came together, as did those in the west, with the common goal of discovering more effective control of deep-rooted, noxious, perennial weeds. It is often incorrectly assumed that the regional conferences were created due to the post war availability of 2,4-D. But perennial weeds were the primary motivation and a concern to all involved in agriculture in the fourteen-state North Central region. Work on 2,4-D was important, but it was not the reason conferences were created. Andersen (1991) claims that the primary impetus (the cause) for formation of the North Central Conference was field bindweed. In the early 1940s, there was one soil-applied, non-selective chemical (atlacidesodium chlorate). It sterilized soil and was expensive. There were no other reasonable options for control of field bindweed. The founders claimed 4
This commonly used quote is from Sir Isaac Newton’s February 15, 1676, letter to Robert Hooke. Newton said,—“If I have seen further (than you and Descartes) it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.”
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the Society was “born of desperation and continued to thrive and grow of necessity” (Andersen, 1991, p. 6). They had a “deep faith in their ability to work together toward a common goal, namely the more effective control of deep rooted, noxious perennial weeds, especially field bindweed.” They knew perennial weeds were omnipresent in their region and while they may have believed their presence was inevitable, they did not believe farmers had to accept yield losses due to the weeds. Research was the answer and the primary goal of the research was to find weed control solutions. The limited, scattered, and uncoordinated work on perennial weeds had begun in several north central states in the 1930s. A meeting to bring the weed workers together was held at Iowa State University on February 26 and 27, 1936. No weed scientists attended because no one then called themselves a weed scientist. Those who attended were from fourteen U.S. states with one Canadian representative. All were trained primarily in Botany or Agronomy but each was concerned about weeds. A second meeting was held in Des Moines, Iowa in 1938 and those in attendance urged the formation of “a continuous committee to coordinate weed work in the region and arrange conferences, if necessary.” WWII interrupted efforts to meet regularly. The first organized meeting of the NCWCC was not held until November 16 and 17, 1944 in Omaha, Nebraska, with ninety-one in attendance (Andersen, 1991, p. 9). It was recognized that in spite of the success of new herbicides for weed control, careful experiments over many years would be required to obtain the information necessary to determine all beneficial and destructive effects of the new herbicides on crops (Andersen, 1991, p. 41). This was early evidence that those working on weeds were concerned about effects on crops in addition to weed control. There is no evidence that in the 1940s there was any concern among early weed workers about the possible effects of new herbicides on anything other than weeds and crops. However, R. M. Salter of the USDA addressed the North Central Conference in 1949 (Andersen, 1991, p. 54) and suggested that from “the standpoint of a well-balanced weed research program the chemical aspect is being over-emphasized” if the objective is to achieve what he called “sustained production.” Salter’s view was that “if the farming job is done right, chemicals may not be needed.” It is impossible to know how his remarks were received. Eleven years later, Salter’s view was reinforced by comments from the 1960 President, L. G. (Whitey) Holm (1960) of the University of Wisconsin. Holm suggested that a casual observer of the North Central Conference had to conclude that “our whole world is herbicides.” The success of herbicides for selective weed control drew research objectives away from study of the weeds themselves toward their control. The quite understandable enthusiasm for herbicides led, in Holm’s view, to weed scientists isolating themselves from other disciplines “because of our narrow vision.” Holm urged more study of what is now called the biology, ecology, and anatomy of weeds so that in addition to determining how, when, and where to use herbicides, those studying them will know whether or not to use them. That is, way back in 1960, Holm wanted those who studied weeds
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and their control to think about whether or not herbicides were always the best or most desirable solution to weed problems. The presidential address in 1950 by W. W. Worzella of South Dakota State College (Andersen, 1991, pp. 57–59) discussed the proposal to form a national weed society. There was disagreement among the members of the North Central Conference about the value of a national society. Most members were opposed to the idea because they thought a national society would detract from the objectives of regional conferences. It was also the case that members of the conference were members of existing national societies such as the American Society of Agronomy and saw no need for another, competing society that might undermine the success of the regional conference. Nevertheless, the North Central Conference hosted the first national weed conference in 1953. In spite of initial opposition, the North Central Conference became a strong supporter of the ARWCC, which they approved in 1954. The Association evolved in 1956 into the Weed Society of America (WSA). The 1969 North Central Conference was addressed by Conference President T. V. Beck of the Saskatchewan Department of Agriculture. The latter part of his address was, in his view, philosophical, and is worthy of note (Andersen, 1991, pp. 114–115; Beck, 1969). He said: ... perhaps the most significant development affecting weed control science since our last meeting has been the renewed interest in pollution control. This has expressed itself most vigorously in the restrictions of insecticides but has affected everyone from weed workers to weight watchers. Let me hasten to assure you that I am, as I am sure we all are, vitally interested in, and in favour of pollution control. Man must, if he is to survive, keep the means of production and of existance (sic) free from harmful contaminants. But, if man is to survive, he must also produce to meet the demands of an ever-increasing world population. To do this, he must utilize the products and advances of science. But, we know that man cannot indiscriminately use all of the products of science. As I see it, the benefits of each technological advance must be weighed carefully and honestly against the risks involved. There must be balance. As a conference and as individuals, we must continue to be concerned with that balance. Further it is our duty to assure the public and those involved with legislation that we are concerned. We do support pollution control and we are concerned with risks and residues. We must continue to seek the truth. Our research must be thorough, complete and unbiased. I believe that it is, but those who depend upon it to make decisions must have that same confidence. It is essential that all the facts are known and understood by those who need them. We must be clear, precise and honest in our interpretations. We must assure that our decisions and those of others are based on fact and not emotion. And, we must continue to direct our efforts to search for the most effective and safest methods of weed control. In summary, we must rededicate ourselves to the task of ensuring that the products of weed control science can be used safely for the benefit of all mankind.
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Reading Beck’s words almost 40 years after he spoke, I applaud them as I assume his audience did. Andersen (1991, p. 115) interpreted his comment on pollution control to be related to “various expressions of concern,” which led to the first Earth Day in April 1970, creation of the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (US/EPA) in December 1970, the continuing controversy over DDT (the United Nations plans to rid the world of DDT by 2020), and the debate about phenoxy acid herbicides, particularly 2,4,5-T. It is probably true that Carson’s Silent Spring (1962) influenced his thoughts. Beck was clearly a strong supporter of weed science. He advocated, as many continued to, the value of benefit-risk appraisal of new technology and the worth of scientific as opposed to emotional judgment. He clearly believed that scientifically based benefit-risk judgments would benefit weed science and its technology. The silver anniversary presidential address to the North Central Conference by L. G. Hannah (1970) of Monsanto lamented the fact that there were many U.S. universities with Departments of Entomology (43) and Plant Pathology (32) but none with a Department of Weed Science. As mentioned in Chapter V, in spite of continued commentary over many years in the regional and the national societies on this perceived lack, there are still no university departments devoted solely to weed science, although Weed Science is included in department names at New Mexico State University and Virginia Tech University. Hannah saw modern agricultural benefits as being derived from “the application of controls to the environment to develop a specific ecological community to achieve the goal, which is ever more efficient production of food and fiber for mankind.” The goal of efficient food and fiber production has remained as a primary goal among weed scientists for many years. Burnside (1975) echoed Hannah’s comments in his presidential address. He declared that weed science was a step-child (a view he repeated in 1993) and it was time for universities to recognize its contributions and importance to agriculture by creating weed science departments. Part of his justification was that the common claim that because herbicide sales exceeded the sales of other pesticides, department status was deserved. It was an economic, not a scientific, justification. Departmental status would enable weed science to attain “the recognition and unification” required for continued progress. Increasing what Burnside (1975) called weed science’s “meager course offerings” would be a desirable first step. Hannah (1970) went on to castigate “politicians, sincere conservationists, and dedicated biologists” who have attacked pesticides entirely on emotional rather than scientific grounds (see Beck, 1969, above). His clear implication was that all such attacks are wrong and defeat, perhaps without intending to, the primary goal of modern agricultural technology, which is “the ever more efficient production of food and fiber for mankind.” No one has enumerated the reasons why the NCWCC waited until 1989 to become a society. Burnside had advocated the change in his 1975 presidential
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address, but it took the conference 14 more years to make the change other regional conferences and the national society had made by 1970 (Table VII-1). Perhaps it was related to objections to formation of a competitive national society first raised by the north central group in the 1950s. It may also have been related to the group’s continued emphasis on the task of solving weed problems of importance to farmers—of controlling weeds in farmer’s fields.
The Northeastern Weed Science Society A history of the Northeastern Weed Science Society was written by R. D. Sweet (1996) of Cornell University, who was present when the Northeastern Conference began. Sweet notes in the introduction that the “10–15 years following World War II saw profound changes throughout society.” He suggests that the period was, in the view of many, the most revolutionary agriculture had ever seen. The primary aspect of the revolution was the replacement of the human and animal energy agriculture required with petroleum energy (see Table VII-1). The revolution in weed control that increased agricultural production per acre and per person while simultaneously dramatically reducing required human labor was achieved through the introduction and widespread use of selective herbicides. Sweet a Professor of Vegetable Crops cited in the introduction to his History of the Northeastern Weed Science Society (1996, p. 1), as others have, the fact that many vegetable crops (e.g., carrots and onions) required several hundred hours of human labor per acre to pull weeds and selective herbicides (especially Stoddard solvent—an unsaturated hydrocarbon petroleum distillate of low flammability) eliminated most of that labor. This, the more common view, stands in sharp contrast to the view expressed by Salter presented to the North Central Conference in 1949. Salter suggested that “if the objective is to achieve what he called ‘sustained production’ chemicals may not be needed” (see above, Andersen, 1991, p. 54). During the war, there was a shortage of farm labor and farmers were being asked to produce more—to “become the bread basket for the world” (Sweet, 1996, p. 2). The phenoxy acids, 2,4-D and 2,4,5-T, were developed during the war but did not become available for agriculture until after 1945. They quickly proved to be as significant to agricultural production as “were sulfa and penicillin to medicine and the atom bomb to warfare” (Sweet, 1996, p. 2). “In the early winter of 1947, the Director of the Cornell Experiment Station issued and open invitation to all interested parties to participate in a workshop to exchange information on weed problems and to explore the feasibility of forming an organization of weed workers in the northeast” (Sweet, 1996, p. 4). Eighty-four men convened on the Cornell campus in February 1947. Half were from colleges and experiment stations, thirty-seven from the chemical industry, two from the USDA, and one each from the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, the Tennessee Valley Authority, and the New York City Health Department.
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The group agreed to form a regional organization of weed workers that had three principal objectives: 1. to facilitate the exchange of information, 2. to plan and coordinate research, and 3. an undefined goal to be developed, on education.
In contrast to the North Central Conference, formed in 1944, the northeast group was to strive for the closest possible cooperation between industrial and experiment station workers in all three areas of activity. This was designed to achieve the primary purpose of the conference—“to facilitate the rapid exchange of information about weeds and their control” (Sweet, 1996, p. 5). In fact, the presidential position was informally designed to alternate between industry and the academy. The president in 1947 and 1948 was G. H. Ahlgren from Rutgers, and in 1949 Sweet was president. In 1950, H. L. Yowell from Esso Standard Oil of New Jersey became president. Through 1995 the office alternated between a university or USDA person and one from the chemical industry every other year, thus making obvious the desired regular cooperation between the academia and industry. It is not prescribed in the society’s constitution but must be understood by the members of the nominating committee. The chair of the nominating committee and one member are appointed annually by the president and three members are elected by the members. The first meeting of the Weed Society of America was hosted by the Northeastern Conference in New York City in January 1956. There were 667 in attendance. The meeting was subsequent to the first national weed conference that had been hosted by the North Central Conference in 1953. The North Central Conference resisted at first but became a strong supporter of the ARWCC, which they approved in 1954. The Association evolved, in 1956, into the Weed Society of America (WSA). In spite of early opposition from the North Central group for the reasons enumerated above, there was strong and growing support among the four regional societies for a national weed organization. A point not mentioned above, that was a source of what Sweet (1996, p. 14) called “acrimonious wrangling,” concerned who could vote. When matters of importance were to be decided, the North Central Conference permitted one vote per state. The northeastern and the two other regional groups were more democratic in that they permitted all members to vote, including members employed by industrial companies. The Northeastern Conference followed the lead of the national and western conference when it became a society in 1970 (Table VII-1). Sweet (1996, p. 19) notes that the launch of the Russian satellite “Sputnik, the first earth-orbiting satellite, changed the American attitude toward science and science education.” Science, quite suddenly, became not just something that everyone ought to know something about, but a subject on which the nation had to focus. Part of that focus was the typical American solution to being behind—spending more money will surely solve the problem. Science became not just a topic for discussion but a worthy cause (a necessary thing) to which more money must be allocated. Sweet (1996, p. 19)
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suggests that everyone was motivated to demonstrate how scientific they were and Sputnik and the tenor of the times mandated names be changed. Regional weed conferences became weed science societies. Land-grant colleges of agriculture changed to colleges of agricultural science or some variation that included the word science. Departments in universities also changed their names. A small sample includes: Animal Husbandry became Animal Science, Agronomy became Crop Science or Crop and Soil Science, and Horticulture became Horticultural Science. There is limited evidence that the new names may have led to significant changes in traditional emphasis in teaching and research. The Northeastern Conference continued to discuss publication of a journal but finally abandoned the idea because of expense and because journal publication was typically slow due to reviews and subsequent revision. The conference’s goal had always been to rapidly exchange information among its members and research progress reports, and meeting abstracts accomplished that goal. Sweet (1996, p. 20) also points out that in its early years, the conference never regarded itself or its members as having a political role. Politics was what others did and whatever it was, it was not science and therefore the conference’s mission did not include a political role. However, as pesticide use expanded rapidly, public concern expanded at an equally rapid pace. The societies’ concern was not that the public should not be concerned, but that the public’s view was too frequently informed by “negative and sometimes inaccurate stories in the media … and radical state and federal regulations were proposed.” Some members thought the conference should be active in providing the public and legislators with correct, science-based information and opinion about herbicides. Others argued that a research organization should not get involved in what were political, non-scientific issues. Several presidents of the group urged more political involvement. Attempts to ban 2,4-D finally unified the group and the NCWCC joined the WSSA in 1987 in a request that the Council of Agricultural Science and Technology (CAST),5 a non-partisan agricultural advocacy group based in Ames, Iowa, make a study of the 2,4-D issue and evaluate the risks. It was, at the time, a radical move for traditionally conservative groups whose focus had been on improving agricultural production and labor efficiency. In 1990 the northeastern society established a legislative committee that was to interact with state and federal legislative bodies on matters affecting weed science. There is no record in the history of the northeastern group of what actions ensued or their success in influencing legislation. Initial attendance of eighty-four at the 1947 meeting at Cornell grew to more than seven hundred in 1964 and 1965. Attendance declined precipitously in the 1970s to over three hundred, where it has remained. The decline in Sweet’s (1996, p. 23) view was not related to any diminution in the importance 5
The Council for Agricultural Science and Technology (CAST) “assembles, integrates and communicates science-based information regionally, nationally and internationally on food, fiber, and agricultural, natural resource and related societal issues.”
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of weed science, but to reduced budgets in all universities and consolidation within the agrichemical industry. Sweet also attributes the decline in attendance to an ever more restrictive regulatory environment and a change in research emphasis away from herbicide use directions and practical, applied, weed control information to studies of herbicide physiology and weed biology.
The Southern Weed Science Society The Southern Weed Control Conference was the last of the four regional conferences to be formed. It was created after a meeting on weed control held at the Delta Branch Experiment Station at Stoneville, Mississippi, on June 10, 1948, with seventy-three scientists in attendance. The meeting was chaired by R. W. Cummings, Associate Director of the North Carolina State College of Agriculture and Engineering. Cummings was also the administrative advisor on weeds for the Directors of the Southern Agricultural Experiment Stations. In March 1947, the Experiment Station directors had asked Cummings to organize a meeting on weed control. Those who attended the weed control meeting discussed the need for an annual meeting and decided to recommend formation of an organization that was to be known as the SWCC. The group met again in June 1948 to elect officers of the new conference, which became the Southern Weed Science Society in 1969. The organizers were well aware of the difference in membership and voting rights between the north central, northeastern, and western conferences. The southerners overwhelming opted for broad participation and open membership. The Presidency of the southern conference has regularly alternated between an academic and industry representative. Members of the southern conference/society have always thought that due to the region’s climate, the weed problems were worse than in any other part of the United States (Frans, 1997). They may be correct. The cooperation between the chemical industry, university researchers, extension workers, and regulatory agencies has been cited as a reason for the success of the conference/ society and for weed management programs in the south (Frans, 1997). No complete story of the early years of the southern society comparable to those of the other three regional societies has been written, although Frans (1997) presented a brief history of the society through 1997. The function of the southern society, similar to other regional societies, has been and remains to bring together people, regardless of employer, who are interested in weed control. A specific intent has been to coordinate weed research and control among state, federal, local and private agencies. The member states are Alabama, Arkansas, Florida, Georgia, Kentucky, Louisiana, Mississippi, Missouri, North Carolina, Oklahoma, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, and Virginia plus the Commonwealth of Puerto Rico. Attendance at the meeting peaked at more than one thousand in the mid-1970s through the early 1980s and has declined to about 325 each year. The technical presentations at meetings have averaged between two and three hundred for 20 years.
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Canadian Weed Conferences As stated in the preface, the intent of this book is to emphasize work on weeds in the United States, but some divergence from this goal is necessary to provide a fuller picture. Similar weed conferences were established in Canada, where weed work and scientific meetings on weeds began early and have progressed well. The first meeting of the Associate Committee on weeds of the Canadian National Research Council was held in 1929 before any comparable organization had been created in the United States. The first meeting of the Western Canadian Weed Control Committee was held in 1947 and the Eastern Committee first met in 1948. In 1977 the weed committees were named the Expert Committee on weeds, which became the Canadian Weed Science Society in 2002.
The Weed Science Society of America Sweet (1996, p. 2) points out that weed science is the only scientific discipline of modern times in which the formation of a national group followed formation of regional societies (see Table VII-1). As mentioned above, the source of what Sweet called “acrimonious wrangling” was over who could vote. The wrangling continued over the proposal to form a national weed organization and the compromise was the creation of an association of the four regional conferences not a national organization. Its primary purpose was to create and publish a journal devoted to weeds. Thus, the journal Weeds (changed to Weed Science in 1968) first appeared in December 1951, before the national organization that became its publisher was organized in 1954 and first met in 1956. A second aspect of the compromise was that there would not be a national meeting. Each regional conference would host the Association of Regional Conferences at its annual meeting. After each conference had hosted the Association (this would take 4 years) the question of forming a true national society would again be voted on. Presumably the voting would be done by appointed representatives of each regional conference. Delegates from the four regional conferences met on September 15, 1949, in Kansas City, Missouri, and that meeting led to the formation of the ARWCC (Appleby, 2006; Timmons, 1970). There was a representative from each of the four regions but apparently they were invited, not appointed by their respective conferences. The second meeting of the same group was held in Kansas City, Missouri, in 1950. Discussion focused on creation of a journal and holding a national conference. The third meeting in Memphis, Tennessee, in 1951 included an appointed representative from each regional conference. The objective of the ARWCC was: To encourage and promote the development of knowledge concerning weeds and their control through publishing research findings, fostering high standards of education, encouraging effective
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regulation, and promoting unity in all phases of weed work. The regional associations had previously sponsored the first national weed control conference in Kansas City, Missouri, in 1953 in conjunction with the annual meeting of the NCWCC (Behrens, 1968; Timmons, 1970). Membership was open to individuals and organizations of all nations interested in the ARWCC’s objectives. Individual membership was $6.00 annually and sustaining membership was $100.00. The fourth meeting of the ARWCC was held in Washington, D.C. in December 1952. Appleby (2006) reports that all conferences were on record as supporting a national meeting, which is in slight disagreement with Andersen (1991), who reports that the North Central Conference did not approve the ARWCC until 1954, even though that conference had hosted the first national weed control meeting in conjunction with their annual meeting in 1953. It seems clear that the North Central group was not opposed to meeting with other groups in a national setting, but until 1954, they were opposed to formation of a national society. A significant reason for the group’s opposition was based on the fact that the North Central Conference included a very successful trade show that paid most of the conference’s expenses and on which the conference made a profit. They feared that if a national group was successful, they might lose the trade show to the national group and the conference’s future might be in jeopardy. The ARWCC did not meet with each of the regional societies, as planned, prior to formation of the Weed Society of America (WSA) on December 4, 1954, at Fargo, North Dakota. The president and vice president of each regional conference were the designated delegates to the ARWCC (Behrens, 1968) and created the WSA. The delegates had been directed by their respective conferences to develop the framework for the WSA. A temporary constitution was adopted in 1954 and used until the first meeting of the Society in New York City, January 4 to 6, 1956. The Weed Society became the Weed Science Society of America in 1967 and continued to publish the journal, Weeds, as a trial venture until 1954, when it was accepted as the official journal of the society. After a vote by the membership, the journal’s name was changed to Weed Science with Volume 16 in January 1968. Weed Science’s intent is to publish peer-reviewed articles that address understanding why phenomena occur. Details omitted here are included in Appleby (2006). In his 1960 presidential address, Buchholz (1961) reported that in 1951 there were approximately seventeen weed workers in all of the USDA. The number had grown to sixty-six by 1960. There were probably no more than thirty scientists who worked on weeds in all the states in 1940, but that had grown to about 160 in 1960 (Appleby, 2006, p. 8). Buchholz said the number of acres treated with herbicides had grown from about 100,000 in 1940 to 48 million in 1959. Compared to the number of acres treated with other pesticides, Buchholz saw th e growth in herbicide use as clear evidence that more weed scientists were needed.
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Apparently, those who worked on weeds agreed. Attendance at the earlier meetings of the Weed Society of America (WSA) and the subsequent meetings of the Weed Science Society of America (WSSA) increased rapidly. There were about seven hundred who attended the charter meeting of the WSA in New York in 1956. Available attendance and membership data are shown in Table VII-2. The data indicate that attendance at society meetings increased until the mid-1990s and decreased thereafter. Membership in the Society peaked in 1994 and 1995 and has decreased to less than fifteen hundred in 2006. The society has been losing Table VII-2 Membership and attendance at annual meetings of the Weed Society of America (1956 and 1964) and the Weed Science Society of America (1976–2004)a Year
Membership
Attendees
1956
700
1964
900
1976
1,696
1982
3,417
1987
3,727
1988
3,500
1990
2,472
1991
3,308
1992
3,308
1993
3,325
1994
3,414
1998
2,144
1999
2,156
761
2000
2,074
656
2001
1,985
643
2002
1,870
666
2003
1,720
546
2004
1,710
514
2005
1,690
729 (Hawaii)
2006
1,493
509
2007
1,411
486
2008
1,352
471
2009 a
703 (joint meeting with SWSS)
Data were obtained from the Executive Secretary of the Society, Allen Press, Lawrence, KS.
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about one hundred members a year for several years. A primary reason for the membership decline is consolidation among herbicide manufacturing companies. The company mergers have been accurately documented by Appleby and the complete record is available at http://cropandsoil.oregonstate.edu/herbgnl. A summary is shown in Table VII-3. As companies merged, personnel were eliminated and fewer people attended meetings. It is also logical to conclude, although no data are available, that as the number of herbicide companies decreased the number of companies available to support university weed science programs decreased and that led to a decrease in funds for graduate student support and meeting attendance. Recent (2007, 2008) membership surveys show that 52 percent of the members are college or university faculty, 22 percent work for a for-profit company, and 15.6 percent work for a Federal agency. Of 301 respondents to the 2007 survey, 58 percent were 40 to 60 years old, only 8 percent were younger than 30, but 16 percent were older than 60. The age distribution is similar to that of plant pathology in which the median age in 2008 was a 52. Weed science appears to be an aging profession. The WSA and the WSSA have done a great deal to accomplish their Constitutionally mandated goal “to encourage and promote the development of knowledge concerning weeds and their control” and secondarily to publish research results pertaining to weeds. In addition to regular publication of a scientific journal since December 1951, the following publications have appeared: 1. Regular publication of a Directory of Weed Scientists (now available online https:// timssnet.allenpress.com/ECOMWSSA/TIMSSNET/amm/TNT_MD search.cfm?CFID= 130446088cftoxen=51973206, accessed 23 December 2009). 2. WSSA’s newsletter, a quarterly since 1973 is now available only online. Table VII-3 Numbera of U.S. Herbicide Companies from 1970 to 2005 (Appleby,b 2007) Year
Approximate number of companiesa
1970
46
1975
35
1980
29
1985
23
1990
17
1995
15
2000
10
2005
7
a
The number is a best estimate of the companies that synthesized, screened, and developed herbicides in the United States, including those that were subsidiaries of foreign owned companies. b Arnold P. Appleby is Professor Emeritus of Crop Science at Oregon State University. The Herbicide company genealogy was last revised in March 2007.
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3. The Herbicide Handbook, first published in 1967 and now in its eighth edition, is prepared in cooperation with chemical company personnel and provides the chemical name, commercial names, structure, chemical and physical properties, uses, environmental behavior, and toxicity of most herbicides available in the United States. 4. A series of monographs with multiple authors was published. The first on Adjuvants for herbicides appeared in 1982. Others were Leafy Spurge (1985), Weed Control in Limited Tillage Systems (1985), Methods of Applying Herbicides (1988), Systems of Weed Control in Wheat in North America (1990), and Witchweed Research and Control in the United States (1990). 5. A bibliography and cross-reference of weed-crop interference and crop losses due to weeds was published in 1988. 6. Six bound editions of Reviews of Weed Science were published in 1985, 1986, 1987, 1989, 1990, and 1994. Reviews were discontinued due to financial constraints. Subsequent volunteer review articles could be submitted to either journal. 7. A second journal—Weed Technology—has been published quarterly since 1987 with primary emphasis on understanding how weeds are to be managed. Weed Technology began after the non-technical magazine Weeds Today ceased publication in 1985. Weeds Today first appeared in 1970 and reached a peak circulation of 50,000. It was intended to provide non-technical information about weeds and their biology and control to extension agents, vocational agriculture teachers, and others interested in weeds. It was successful in all respects except financial (Appleby, 2006, p. 14) and cost forced the society to stop publication. 8. An interactive CD weed identification guide, 1,000 Weeds of North America was published in 2004. 9. A third journal—Invasive Plant Science and Management—began publication in 2008.
As reported above, in 1990 the northeastern society established a legislative committee to interact with state and federal legislative bodies on matters affecting weed science. The WSSA has been continually interested in regulatory matters that affected weed science. Appleby (2006, p. 36) describes the history of attempts to influence federal legislation. The society had to be cautious and ensure that when officers visited members of Congress or officials of federal departments their specific intent was to educate not to overtly influence legislation. The latter would be regarded as lobbying and that would change the society’s income tax status, an undesirable outcome. Over the years there have been a number of instances where the society’s educational efforts often in cooperation with delegates from the regional societies have influenced the creation and eventual passage of federal legislation that has favorably affected the progress of weed science. In the early years, each society passed resolutions, designed to influence future legislation, at their annual meeting. Resolutions were forwarded to Congressional representatives and state and federal administrative offices. There is no record of the effectiveness of these resolutions on legislation. Beginning in 1973, WSSA officers began visits to Washington, D.C. to educate officials on the importance of creating and funding the federal Noxious Weed Control Act, which was passed in 1974 and amended in 1975 and 1994. Societal resolutions diminished in importance after 1973, although they continued until at least 1989. They are no longer part of any society’s annual
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meeting. The federal Noxious Weed Control Act provides for the control and management of non-indigenous weeds that injure or have the potential to injure the interests of agriculture and commerce, wildlife resources, or public health. Congress found, with assistance from the weed societies, that noxious weeds interfere with the growth of useful plants, clog waterways, interfere with navigation, cause disease, and generally are detrimental to agriculture, commerce, and public health. Congress determined that regulation of transactions in and movement of noxious weeds was necessary. In 1982 and 1983, WSSA influenced continuation of funding for control of witchweed in the United States. The societies have also worked to influence legislation regarding strengthening the IR-4 program. It is the minor use pesticides cooperative program established in 1963 to help the producers of minor crops obtain clearances for pest control materials on minor crops. The purpose of IR-4 is to work with farmers, agricultural scientists, and Cooperative Extension personnel to carry out research and petition the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (US/EPA) to obtain tolerances for specific pesticide uses needed by minor crop producers. The societies have also influenced legislation that affects the Federal Conservation Reserve Program (CRP), the conduct of herbicide use surveys, legislation, and actions of the Integrated pest management program (IPM), and invasive weeds legislation. The Weed Science Society has expressed its views on several national issues including water quality, endangered species, the limited support for weed science research by the USDA-CSRS competitive grants program, herbicide resistant weeds, sustainable agriculture, and food safety. In 1985 WSSA joined with the International Association of Plant Protection Societies to create a Science Fellow position in Washington. The Fellow was to monitor and pass along matters of legislative interest to all member societies. In 1991 the program grew to two fellows, each partially supported by WSSA, but the program ended in 1998. Appleby (2006, p. 36) reports that discussions about creating a permanent representative in Washington began in 1994 and culminated in 1995, when WSSA agreed to provide support for one-half (the other half came from the four regional societies) of a congressional liaison position. That position was expanded to a full-time WSSA Washington representative in 1998. The Society’s mission appears on their Web site (http://www.wssa.net/WSSA/ SocietyInfo/Mission.htm, accessed July 2008) (last revised January 13, 2007). The Society remains a non-profit professional society with three primary missions: 1. To promote research, education, and extension outreach activities related to weeds. 2. To provide science-based information to the public and policy makers; and to foster awareness of weeds and their impacts on managed and natural ecosystems. 3. The Society’s strategic goal is to “foster awareness of weed biology and the impacts of weeds on humans and managed and natural ecosystems in order to improve quality of life, public safety and agricultural productivity through weed management.” The 2008 society strategic plan can be found on the Weed Science Society of America Web site. It includes six goals, each with specific objectives and action items.
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A History of Weed Science in the United States
Concluding comments Throughout the development of weed science there has been concern about its name. President N. S. Hanson of the North Central Conference wanted to find a more scientific name (Andersen, 1991, p. 41). He suggested “weodology” based on the Anglo-Saxon weodos, the root of the English word “weed.” His suggestion was not accepted, but many have been concerned that weed and weeds are prosaic, ordinary words that don’t sound scientific. Entomologists don’t call themselves bug or insect scientists and plant pathologists are not disease or sickness scientists. Many thought that there must be a better term, but one has never been found and the term “weed science” was adopted by the society Board of Directors in 1968. As mentioned earlier, Holm’s (1960) presidential address to the NCWCC suggested that a casual observer of the conference had to conclude that “our whole world is herbicides.” He was concerned that the success of herbicides for selective weed control would draw research objectives away from study of the weeds themselves toward their control. The evidence seems to be that weed scientists did isolate themselves from other disciplines but have begun to correct that in recent years to include, if not promote, more study of the biology and ecology of weeds, so that in addition to determining how, when, and where to use herbicides, those studying them will know whether or not to use them. Weed scientists now ask and explore the question: Are herbicides always the best or most desirable solution? Based on what has happened among the societies described above, one might ask if Holm’s (1960) concerns were warranted. It is clear that the Western Weed Control Conference was established because of concern about the environmental damage and crop losses caused by perennial weeds. It was created prior to the development of truly effective, selective herbicides. The other regional societies and the national society were organized as 2,4-D became available after WWII, but 2,4-D was not the reason they were created. The development of 2,4-D certainly changed weed control, but it did not create the interest of scientists in the possibility of controlling weeds selectively. Review of the annual meeting programs for the WSSA (from 1987 to 2006) and WSWS (from 1992 to 2006)6 reveal that 55.2 percent (range 45 to 66) of the papers presented to WSSA members and 54.7 percent (range 43 to 62.5) of those to WSWS dealt with some aspect of herbicides. Papers on the biology and ecology of weeds constituted 16.1 percent (range 7.5 to 23) of those presented to WSSA and 11.8 percent (range 6.9 to 19) of those presented to WSWS. There has been a slight decrease in herbicide papers over the years in both societies and a slight increase in biology and ecology papers, but, it appears, Holm’s caution was not unwarranted. Appleby (2006, p. 42) notes that “in many respects, much has not changed. There is still a multitude of papers on specific 6
The years and programs were selected not to make a particular point but because they were available to me.
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control for specific weeds, management practices, how much and when various herbicides should be applied, herbicide persistence in soil, competitive effects of weeds on crops, equipment design, seed characteristics, regulatory aspects, etc.” Of the 756 papers included in the program for the 2008 meeting of the International Weed Science Society, 34 percent were on herbicides or chemical control and 24 percent were on weed biology or ecology. Herbicides still dominate as they always have. Perhaps Merrigan (1993) was correct when she said those who call themselves weed scientists are not weed but herbicide scientists. Merrigan’s comments to the Southern conference were similar to those Hinkle (1988) of the Audubon Society made to the North Central conference. She said “the old ‘spray and pray’ mentality has to be thrown out.” The remarkable productivity of American agriculture, in Hinkle’s view, can only be sustained with greater basic understanding of nature and how it works. Weed scientists have responded to these early challenges. The nature of the research reported in weed society meetings has changed even though herbicides have remained dominant. Beginning in the early 1990s, herbicide resistance, first discovered in Washington by Ryan (1970), has received much more attention. There are now 317 weed biotypes, 183 species (110 dicots and 73 monocots) in 290,000 fields resistant to one or more herbicides.7 The question of why certain weed control interactions are observed has become more prominent. The use of computers has changed weed science as models of weed-crop competition and herbicide timing for best results have been made possible. Genetic engineering and genetic modification have changed weed science and the practice of weed control in several crops. Development and wide dissemination of crops resistant to glyphosate and a few other herbicides have dramatically reduced use of some herbicides as use of others (especially glyphosateRoundup) has increased. However, as Appleby (2006, p. 43) points out, “a large number of weed problems remain unsolved, even increasing.” Thus, there are sufficient scientific challenges facing the scientists and the mature societies they have created. In 2009 the 10th World Congress on Parasitic Plants was held in Turkey. Parasitic weeds continue to devastate crops in much of the world and very few effective methods of weed management are available. In many countries and cropping systems there are no effective management methods. Those who study parasitic plants know a great deal about their physiology, ecology, and biology but, in spite of all the research, they know very little about control, which has not improved. Abstracts of the 10th World Congress show that only 17 percent of the papers were on control while 80 percent were on the biology and ecology of parasites. Thus, with weeds and cropping systems where control is possible, weed science research emphasizes control. However, with parasitic plants, effective control has not been possible and research has emphasized understanding of parasitic behavior. It is an interesting comparison. 7 A complete report of worldwide herbicide resistance is available—Heap, I. 2008. International survey of herbicide resistant weeds. http://www.weedscience.org/in.asp (accessed February 2008).
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A History of Weed Science in the United States
Presidential comments During past WSSA annual meetings, it was customary for the president to address the assembled membership. Presidents chose to do this for many years and submitted their thoughts for publication in one of the society journals. Since 1999, WSSA presidents have chosen to write shorter pieces for publication in the society newsletter. These have generally been a compilation of thanks to those who have served the society, rather than a presentation of thoughts about the science, its direction and challenges that characterized earlier addresses. There was never a policy decision by the Board of Directors to eliminate presidential addresses. Some presidents gave an address but decided not to submit their thoughts for review and publication and gradually, although presidents still addressed the assembled members, their comments changed from thoughts about the science and its future to comments on the meeting and its scheduled events. The remarks have consisted of news of activities of the officers and Board of Directors, repeated thanks to those who have been active in the Society, and comments on society issues of concern to the new president. What follows is a review of and commentary on the published addresses of WSSA presidents from the founding of the society through 2000. When the paper8 was written the assumption was that the presidential remarks reveal what the society has emphasized, what its major concerns and goals have been, and how the presidents have addressed what they considered to be important issues. Seven issues have been addressed by many presidents. These include the importance of agricultural production and profit, the necessity of herbicides, weed science and the environment, regulation of herbicides, the need for education, comparison of weed science and other plant protection disciplines, and the problem of herbicide resistance.
Writing history Writing history is an attempt to establish how things really were and, it is inevitably plagued by the interpreter’s experience, knowledge, and, of course, bias. It is fraught, even under the best of circumstances, with the difficult problem of distinguishing between what really happened and what the writer thinks happened (Murphy, 2000). The writer tries to write about what is known, what is unknown, and what is presumed. Historians have the problem of figuring out how to combine the perspective of a particular person inside the world with an objective view of that same world (Nagel, 1986). Those who attempt to write history are plagued with the problem of getting outside their view to a truly objective viewing point. It is hard because we don’t always know where we are 8
The following comments are an edited version of: Zimdahl, R. L., 2002. The President said. Weed Sci. 50, 14–25. It is reproduced here with permission from the Weed Science Society of America/ Allen Press Publishing Services.
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and no one can get completely outside experience and knowledge. All views come from somewhere as one tries to determine answers to the questions raised in Chapter I: Where do we come from? What are we? and Where we are going? The good, like the true, includes irreducibly subjective elements (Nagel, 1986). It is not possible to encompass over 50 years of history without leaving out many important details. The paper on which this section is based was not intended to be a complete, interpretative history of the development of weed science; this book attempts that goal. The paper’s objective was to review and comment on the addresses (twenty-eight published and four unpublished) of the past presidents of the Society (forty-one, from its organization in 1954 through 2002, the first six presidents each served a 2-year term). The assumption was that the addresses would reveal what has been emphasized and what the society’s major goals have been. The analysis was based on published remarks, not on oral interviews. An implicit assumption is that to understand a science one must understand its past and those who have been in position to speak honestly about their experience, their beliefs and their vision of the future. Nearly all past-presidents have been men; the first woman served in 2001. The published remarks of twenty-eight of the forty-one men (thirteen addresses were not published) who served as president of the society since its first meeting on January 4, 1956 conform to the what Gould (1987) calls the cardinal principle of science: “The profession, as an art, dedicates itself above all to fruitful doing, not clever thinking; to claims that can be tested by actual research, not to exciting thoughts that inspire no activity.”
The presidents Before beginning to explore what the past presidents said about fruitful doing and actual research, let us pause to identify a few things about them. Twentytwo were employed for most of their professional lives by a university. Three began their careers in the academic world but later worked for the agrochemical industry (one moved back to academic administration) and five others spent most of their professional life with one of the major agrochemical firms. Ten were employed by the ARS of the USDA and one of them moved from industrial employment to ARS late in his career. One, the only non-American, was employed by Agriculture Canada. Thirty-three of the past presidents were alive (in mid-2001) but only seven were still employed as weed scientists9. All but one past president, the first, R. H. Beatty, who was president of the ARWCC, earned a doctoral degree from an American university. The nineteen different U.S. universities attended were dominantly Midwestern (22 presidents) (Table VII-4). Four east coast universities, and four west coast universities are represented, but only two southern universities are included (Table VII-4). 9 From 1954 to 2008 there have been 49 presidents of WSSA. Seventeen are deceased and in 2009, 15 are still active weed scientists.
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Table VII-4 U.S. universities that granted the doctoral degree to Past Presidents of the WSA and the WSSA University and region
Number that received the doctoral degreea
East Cornell Harvard Maryland Rutgers
3 1 1 1
Midwest Illinois Iowa Iowa State Ohio State Oklahoma Minnesota North Dakota Purdue Wisconsin
4 1 3 3 1 2 1 4 3
South Duke Louisiana State
1 1
West California-Berkeley California-Davis Oregon State Wyoming Total
1 5 3 1 40
a The first president of the Association of Regional Weed Control Conferences, R. H. Beatty, did not have a doctoral degree.
All presidents have been Americans except Hay (1980), a Canadian and Harvard graduate. Of the forty-one past presidents (through 1998), thirteen earned their doctoral degrees with a past president as their mentor (Table VII-5). A. S. Crafts, the first university professor to have the title Weed Control Scientist in 1931 was the major professor for two future presidents, and C. J. Willard of The Ohio State University, an agronomist, early supporter of weed science, and editor of the journal for seven years, but not a WSSA president also advised two future presidents. One might conclude that if an aspiring weed scientist wants to become president of WSSA, it would be best to work with a former president. It is not hyperbole to say that outstanding weed scientists help develop other outstanding weed scientists. It is interesting that only five past presidents claim to have earned their doctoral degree in weed science (personal communications). Most earned their degrees in a related agricultural field, some with emphasis on weed science.
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Table VII-5 WSSA presidents and their mentors University
Mentor
Year of presidency
President
Year of presidency
Illinois
F. W. Slife
1976
E. L. Knake J. R. Abernathy
1974 1991
H. D. Coble
1993
California-Davis
A. S. Crafts
1958–59
C. L. Foy T. J. Sheets
1977 1982
Minnesota
R. Behrens
1967
J. D. Nalawaja O. C. Burnside
1984 1986
Ohio State
C. J. Willard
Not a WSSA president
W. C. Shaw 1962–63 P. W. Santlemann 1978
Iowa State
W. J. Loomis
Not a WSSA president
C. R. Swanson J. Ahrens
1975 1988
N. Dakota
J. D. Nalawaja
1984
C. Messersmith
1997
Oklahoma
P. W. Santlemann 1978
J. M. Chandler
1999
Thus, they were among the pioneers in the emerging field that had not established itself as a university discipline. Willard (1951) noted in the first issue of the new journal Weeds that the journal’s appearance marked not merely the emergence but the maturation of a field of science. He also noted in his presidential address to the American Society of Agronomy (Willard, 1954) that weed science was “getting a late start as a separate discipline” and that “it is not merely a branch of agronomy.”
What the presidents said I begin with a comment from Tolstoy10 about art: I know that the majority of men who not only are considered to be clever, but who really are so, who are capable of comprehending the most difficult scientific, mathematical, philosophical discussions, are very rarely able to understand the simplest and most obvious truth, if it is such that in consequence of it they will have to admit that the opinion which they have formed of a subject, at times with great effort,—an opinion of which they are proud, which they have taught others, on the basis of which they have arranged their whole life,—that this opinion may be false. 10
Tolstoy, L., 1904. What is art? The Christian teaching, p. 274. In: Wiener, L. (Trans. and Ed.), Resurrection, vol. II. Dana Estes & Co. Pub., Boston, MA. I found the quote in Dyson, F., 1984. Weapons and Hope. Harper and Row, Pub., New York, NY, p. 213.
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The following explores and offers an interpretation of what was said. Any such exploration is plagued by interpretive difficulties (Murphy, 2000; Nagel, 1986). It is easy to know what was said. It is much harder to know what was meant and to ferret out the truth and falsity of conclusions drawn from or actions taken because of what was said. Presidential addresses always present views, frequently conclusive views, of the society, its work, its past, or its future. They are views from somewhere; views from a particular time and place and set of experiences. As Busch (2000, p. 164) notes, scientists always must ask questions from particular points of view. “The view from nowhere does not exist.” Each president’s comments represent a value position and a set of conclusions about how things are or how they ought to be. All presidents, bound by their experience and knowledge, were proud of weed science and of the WSSA. They had a clear view of where they had come from and where weed science should go. They were bound by the views of pride formed from their life; a view from somewhere. This view is revealed, but perhaps only partially, by what each said. My exploration included reading all published addresses and the four unpublished addresses sent to me. My quest was to identify the view expressed and try to interpret the view in the context of the society’s development. I searched for common themes and found seven, the discussion of which constitutes the remainder of this chapter.
The importance of agricultural production Many presidents have explicitly stated or it has been implicit in their remarks that weed science is an essential part of agriculture and has made a major contribution to feeding the world’s people (Furtick, 1967). The responsibility to produce an abundant, safe food supply for all has been an obligation and opportunity emphasized by at least eleven presidents, extending over 30 years from Buchholz (1961) to Abernathy (1992). Several others also emphasized the undeniable importance and value of production (Danielson, 1971; Dawson, 1988; Foy, 1977, 1978; Klingman, 1970, 1972; Nalawaja, 1985; Riggleman, 1986; Santlemann, 1979). Agriculture was regarded as the only essential human business (Klingman, 1972). Without the agricultural technology that has produced our abundant food and fiber, the cultural and social advances in the developed world would not have been possible (Klingman, 1972). Herbicides were seen by these presidents as central to productive success. Production is the essential answer to feeding the world’s burgeoning population. Its importance was not always expressed in identical terms but it has usually been seen as necessary for the well being of humans because it leads to abundant, low cost food (Abernathy, 1992; Dawson, 1988). I suspect that many presidents were guided by Holm (1971), not a WSSA president, who first hypothesized that “more energy is expended for the weeding of man’s crops than for any other single human endeavor” (a claim repeated without citation by Upchurch, 1973). Holm (1971) spoke eloquently about the “vast waste of human energy in hand weeding” and challenged the weed science
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community to relieve this unnecessary human burden. Weeds and the necessity of their removal to protect yield, presidents repeatedly emphasized, stand between humans and an adequate, ensured food supply. Weeds are production problems. Foy (1977, 1978) suggested that weeds profoundly influence human affairs (a phrase from Holm, 1971) because they decrease production and therefore weed science should be the “business of all consumer-citizens.” Klingman (1970) posited that there will never be peace and contentment in a world lacking adequate nourishment for all and weed science works toward that goal. Riggleman (1986) continued Nalawaja’s (1985) theme and agreed that advances in weed control science and technology have contributed greatly to the high production of modern agriculture. Riggleman (1986) said agriculture “has consistently outpaced other industrial sectors in efficiency and productivity. And weed science has been an all-star performer.” Weed scientists have thus been counseled by several presidents that present or developing weed science technology inevitably supports the public good by increasing production of abundant, high quality food and fiber. Variations on this theme derive primarily from disagreement about the technology required to accomplish the goal of feeding the world’s growing population and secondarily from the perceived imperative for the increased production that will be required to feed a growing world population sufficient, high quality food.
The necessity of herbicides The second recurrent theme is the absolute necessity of herbicides to accomplish the goal of producing abundant, safe food. Sixteen presidents have emphasized the importance of herbicides. Willard (1951) a strong supporter of weed science but never a WSSA president, cited 2,4-D as the catalyst that “generated the recent and continuing explosive reaction concerning plant control by chemical means.” Klingman (1970) noted the seminal importance of 2,4-D with his comment that “one factory worker producing 2,4-D is equivalent to 100 hoe hands.” Willard (1951) foresaw building a new science “which will go far to relieve the primeval curse placed on Adam when he was cast out of the Garden of Eden.” Ennis (1958) lauded the gains in yield from chemical weed control and thought the challenge was to determine how to best use the new technology to “lower the cost of production, to reduce human drudgery, and to provide growers with greater dollar returns on their investments.” Buchholz (1961) said “there is little doubt that weed control is practiced on a wider scale than any other pest control operation” and the use of herbicides “has proceeded at a pace that appears to be equal to or greater than the rate of adoption of any other new farm practice.” Shaw (1964), one of the true visionaries of weed science, saw it as a revolutionary science because it used “chemicals to replace physical energy for weed control.” Weed scientists were entering and creating the era of chemicalization of agriculture. Weed control was an essential part of the fundamental ecological interaction of stabilizing vegetation at a highly productive level that
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would not ensue if natural ecological processes were allowed to proceed. The unquestioned need to manage the environment in a purposeful and intelligent manner was affirmed by Upchurch (1973). Shaw (1964) identified eleven areas of major progress made in weed science in the past 20 years and all involved herbicides. He also looked ahead and identified several areas that are of concern today including: total farm weed control, rotational use of herbicides, prevention of the development of herbicide resistant weeds, avoidance of soil residues, and the need for a strong, effective public relations programs to create the best public image for weed science. He identified the requirements for future progress in weed science. Most of today’s weed scientists would accept his prescription and acknowledge that we have made progress on each but still have not reached the goals he established. Shaw (1964) said future progress of weed science would be determined by: 1. Discovery and development of more selective, more specific, better translocated, more efficient, better formulated, safer, and more economical herbicides. 2. Improved understanding of chemical effects on the environment. 3. The ingenuity of weed scientists in modifying and combining control techniques. 4. Understanding the limitations of control techniques. 5. Development of new, more effective control techniques. 6. Discovery of more effective and more efficient sources of energy for selective weed control.
A modern president might assemble a very similar list. In the same year, Orville Freeman (1964), then Secretary of the USDA, told the society that “pesticides are and have been a springboard to abundance. Without them our food supply and the health of many people would be far less secure than it is today.” However, Freeman added, “used properly the chemicals can be used with confidence. Used carelessly, they are dangerous.” Without pesticides, U.S. farmers would be less efficient than they are but part of USDA’s program was to develop techniques for control other than chemicals. The USDA was to work to continue to improve efficient food and fiber production, but “maximum safety for people and all useful plants and animals” must be a primary goal. In the world’s developed countries, hand labor for weed control has been almost eliminated, mechanization of production has been facilitated, and ease of harvesting and quality of crops have been improved by herbicides (Hay, 1980). Many presidents believed that the technology of weed science contributed to these first world advances and the technology must be refined and introduced around the world to solve production problems. Upchurch (1973) demanded bold decisions whether they meant initiation, rejection, discontinuation, or continuation of the use of a given herbicide or method of control. Weed scientists must be the masters of their technology and not vice versa. He advocated that the society and individual scientists should speak out in defense of the proper use of properly managed technology. It was his view that one important task was to convince the public that our technology should be and could be a vehicle of progress. Technology is not a “monster that
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is inevitably linked to all real or imagined ills of society” (Upchurch, 1973). He claimed that the United States has “the opportunity and ability to harness technology and to grow to a nation of a billion people.” Properly developed, used, and managed agricultural technology was an important means to this end. Now the desirability of a U.S. population of 1 billion would be questioned and regarded as an undesirable achievement by most thoughtful Americans. The emphasis remained on herbicides when McWhorter (1984) covered the amount spent on herbicides and the annual crop losses due to weeds in the United States. However, he admonished weed scientists, as Knake (1975) had, that research programs must be continually evaluated lest they become “too pedestrian and routine.” Basic weed science research toward new horizons may have been slow because too many weed scientists had become too fascinated with screening trials and more fundamental weed research was slighted. Nalawaja (1985) during the 25th meeting of the society, emphasized that crops were produced more efficiently, in greater quantity and quality, and with less human labor than ever before. Much of this was due to advances in weed control technology. Weed science had increased production, in Nalawaja’s view, with a net profit to modern agriculture. Nalawaja provided data to show that weed control practices were energy efficient. He argued that modern, chemical weed control techniques were much more energy efficient than mechanical methods or methods that required human labor. In his view, weed scientists had created more food with less labor than ever before. Riggleman (1986) supported Nalawaja’s argument and claimed that agriculture has consistently outpaced other industrial sectors in efficiency and productivity. Weed science had provided farmers with control methods that increased production and reduced costs. Riggleman suggested that weed science was the most important of the pest control sciences because crop losses due to weeds were significantly higher than those due to other pests. However, he cautioned his listeners that their research had to be directed toward improving grower profit. It was not sufficient, in his view, if weed scientists directed all research energy toward increasing production. More production may be the wrong goal because maximum yield is clearly not profitable to the grower. Riggleman ended with a description of the need for new concepts and new ideas in weed science. He noted six WSSA research priorities, four of which were directed toward herbicides and one other emphasized technology transfer. The new society priorities were not identical but they were quite similar to several that Shaw (1964) had proposed 22 years earlier. The clear emphasis on the importance and value of herbicides reappeared in Ahrens (1989) address. Among the immediate concerns he noted were: 1. Loss or unavailability of herbicides for minor crops due to regulatory measures. 2. The Federal Endangered Species Protection Act was destined to limit use of certain herbicides. 3. The presence of herbicides in groundwater was an increasing public concern, but there was no scientific evidence that they were harmful to anything. 4. Perception about the effects of man-made chemicals in the environment should not be allowed to replace scientific facts.
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Perhaps the strongest defense of the importance of herbicides was presented in the longest presidential address (LeBaron, 1990). He argued that weed science has provided “the only consistent, dependable, efficient, and economical means of weed control the world has ever known.” However, chemical technology is being challenged in many ways by those “who know little about the real wicked world of weeds. Because the balance between feast and famine is so delicate, it is essential to maintain the technology that has been developed.” LeBaron claimed that his life experience had taught him that the benefits of herbicides outweigh the risks. Herbicides were “virtually without risk when used properly.” LeBaron, without citation, told the weed science community what Sir Francis Bacon (1607 [1964]) had said about science so many years ago. LeBaron asserted that technology is always good but it may be used incorrectly and lead to bad results. He claimed that most pesticides whose use had been suspended by regulatory action had been suspended in response to public outcry or misuse rather than on the basis of what he called “valid or verified scientific data.” The technology was not at fault, the user was. LeBaron claimed that we could win the war on hunger if it weren’t for political, distributional, and economic obstacles. For him, these things were the real problems. The problems were not production or even population growth. For LeBaron, anything that was scientific was also reasonable and rational. LeBaron’s exclusively objective and scientific interpretation of the world carries with it the risk of spiritual impoverishment (Sarver, 1999) and of missing the many human concerns that science is not designed to address. Sarver quotes L. H. Bailey (1923) who said “Science can never save a soul.” These views illustrate the dedication of the leaders of weed science to its principal technology: herbicides. Presidents and the audience they addressed were overwhelmingly supportive of the view that herbicides could be used with confidence when they were used properly, that is, according to label directions. The dominant view was that proper use leads to proper results and improper use leads to poor results and sometimes other undesirable consequences. One must assume that WSSA presidents knew about Rachel Carson (1962) and her concern about pesticide misuse, but Silent Spring was never mentioned in a presidential address, although it was mentioned by Freeman (1964). All presidents adopted the view that when others (usually called environmentalists) criticized herbicide use and pointed out problems (e.g., non-target effects, persistence, fears of cancer), the claims were exaggerated, emotionally based, and had no scientific foundation. Emotional responses to criticism were to be expected but they should never be the foundation of decisions about pesticide use. Beck (1969) in his presidential address to the North Central Conference said “we must assure that our decisions and those of others are based on fact and not emotion” and that view has remained dominant throughout weed science. For a summary of this defensive posture in general, see Michaels (2008) and Harrington (1996). Thus, the problem, if there was a problem, always was improper use not use alone or the inevitability of improper use. The problem was never the fact that herbicides are a therapeutic approach to
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pest management (Lewis et al., 1997). Even now as we continue to use modern chemistry and molecular biological approaches to solve weed problems, we are still treating the symptoms of a problem (using therapy) without addressing the problem. Lewis and colleagues (1997) suggest that we must go beyond “replacing toxic chemicals with more sophisticated, biologically based agents and re-examine the entire paradigm around the therapeutic approach” that employs herbicides as short-term, ever-changing solutions to weed problems. Lewis and associates (1997) said that we must begins with the question, Why is the pest a pest? In the case of weeds, we must ask, Why is the weed where it is? (Zimdahl, 1999). These are systemic questions and different from the question, How can the weed be controlled? Lewis and colleagues (1997) advocate long-term sustainable solutions that are based on systemic understanding that “restructures the system so that inherent forces that function via feedback mechanisms such as density dependence are added and/or function more effectively.” The president’s views about herbicides illustrate the difficulty of moving to a different view. We all frequently have the problem of being unable to discern even “the simplest and most obvious truth if,” as Tolstoy says, “if it is such that in consequence of it they will have to admit that the opinion which they have formed of a subject, at times with great effort—an opinion of which they are proud, which they have taught others, on the basis of which they have arranged their whole life—that this opinion may be false.”
Environmental concern The difficulty of moving to a different view is further illustrated by the frequent expression of environmental concern by society presidents. Shaw (1964) noted that weeds are an early stage of plant succession and crop production requires that producers use all available scientific technology to stabilize vegetation at a level that produces food and fiber to fulfill human needs. Weed control, in Shaw’s view, was an essential part of an ecological process but it was also, and perhaps of most importance, a production tool. Shaw’s ecological emphasis was soon replaced by a different kind of environmental concern. Behrens (1968) noted the concern, expressed by others, especially biologists not associated with weed science, about the long-range consequences of continued use of biological and chemical agents designed to modify the environment to increase crop production. His speech was given during a time of great public anxiety over the use of herbicides in Vietnam (e.g., Agent Orange—a 50:50 mixture of the n-butyl esters of 2,4-D and 2,4,5-T). He regarded many published statements about herbicides and their use to be erroneous and found the conclusions drawn about the “dangers of herbicide usage to be highly misleading.” Behrens’ presentation shifted away from Shaw’s (1964) thought that weed control was an exercise in planned ecological change toward a defense of herbicide use in the environment. In Behren’s view, it was essential that the public’s judgments about herbicides be made with all of the scientific facts
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available. Statements that were based on ignorance or error should be corrected by weed scientists who, in this view, were morally bound to defend herbicides and the environmental benefits derived from them. Holm (1971) (not a WSSA president) reinforced this theme by noting that “the western world has acquired so much of this wisdom and power over nature that we have become disenchanted and we are squabbling about it—while two-thirds of the world are still screaming to get at it.” The developed nations have achieved high production and have the tools to maintain it. But the technology that has given us these agricultural gains is being destroyed “by instant experts, some of whom wear the robes of false prophets of environmental disaster” (Holm, 1971). In 1972, Tschirley (not a WSSA president) noted that valid questions have been raised about the introduction of large quantities of pesticides into the environment. In the same year Klingman (1972) took the opposite view that “agriculture as a whole, and pesticides in particular, are under organized attack by segments of the society.” Much of the attacker’s zeal resulted from their lack of knowledge of the consequences of the changes they propose. Many of the critics, “though informed in their own specialty” had, in Klingman’s view, “no real contact with or experience in agriculture nor in the total ecology of our environment.” He suggested that weed scientists shared a concern for the environment. They also had “as much expertise and concern in judging health and ecological impact of the new technologies as do the concerned citizens who seem to be against all modern technology.” His view seems to be one that said, damn the environmental luddites and full speed ahead. Klingman (1972) was quite concerned as Beck (1969), LeBaron (1990), and others were about what he called “emotional campaigns that arouse the public.” False arousal about trivial or non-existent environmental problems was an important problem for the weed science community. The primary task for weed scientists was to solve farmers’ weed problems. As weed scientists solved these problems they needed to recognize and be prepared to deal effectively with the political and non-scientific issues as they arose. Keeping one’s eye on the primary task would produce the good science that would be available to answer political and non-scientific questions. This theme was continued by Upchurch (1973) who proposed that “in all the world those who are most honored, respected, and revered and who contribute most to mankind are those who seek and apply the truth.” Upchurch claimed that there is “an unquestioned need for man to manage his environment in a purposeful and intelligent manner.” He was sure that some human activities ought to be modified for the improvement of the environment but, one assumes that because he did not specifically recommend changes, weed science was not a human activity in need of major modification. He attacked the motives of apparent “do-gooders” because they help the public news media air items of controversial and questionable news value. They were seen as “prophets of doom” because they excited “the public by mixing fact, fancy, and probabilities.” Do-gooders had a distorted view of priorities, reality, and economics. Upchurch as mentioned above, thought it was imperative that the
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WSSA and other professional societies speak out in favor of the proper use of properly managed technologies. As mentioned, weed scientists had to be the masters of their technology and not be perceived as being mastered or controlled by the technology. It was the weed science community’s responsibility and opportunity to convince a skeptical public that technology is a vehicle of environmental and productive progress, not the cause of real or imagined societal ills. The technology of weed science, principally herbicides, was not the problem; it was part of the solution. Rodgers (1974) agreed with Upchurch (1973) when he claimed that in a time of environmental conflicts, we can and must ensure protection of human health and the environment by relying on realistic values rather than emotion as weed scientists work to provide the required crop protection and pest control to produce food, feed, and fiber necessary for the survival of humans. Presidential emphasis thus continued to be on the essentiality of maintaining and improving production and on the problems caused by the perceived emotional, non-scientific claims of the environmental community. Knake (1975) said weed scientists had no choice but to continue to develop weed science technology to cope with multiplying problems. It was the right, the obligatory course of action. Environmentalists are people concerned with the environment, but most weed scientists are people who work very close to “God’s handiwork” and have “a better understanding and more genuine concern for our environment than some philosophical environmentalists with little basic knowledge or practical experience.” Knake’s view was that environmentalists did not understand what weed science was about and one of the weed scientist’s tasks was to educate them. Weed scientists were not urged to understand the environmental view. The weed science community needed to educate, not to be educated. The environmental theme did not reappear in the same way for 10 years until Nalawaja (1985) said that the average U.S. citizen, contrary to the facts, believed that Agent Orange caused health problems in Vietnam war veterans. His claim was that the view of the average U.S. citizen was incorrect and weed scientists had a responsibility to be informed of the facts and be active in correcting erroneous claims. He also argued that weed science has created more food with less work for more people than ever before and that the increases in production have been economically and energy efficient. In other words, Nalawaja proposed, as many of his predecessors had, that the technology of weed science is beneficial and environmental complaints are often unfounded. Burnside (1987) noted that weed scientists are asked if their technology is contaminating the environment and poisoning its inhabitants. Contrary to the dismissive attitude of most of his predecessors, he suggested that the questions should not be ignored. Burnside wanted weed science to address the questions because his fear was that if they did not, the questions would be answered by others less qualified to do so, using the non-scientific basis of emotion or fear. He suggested that weed scientists should not ask the public to accept unknown risks when the research to define the risk has not been done.
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One can only assume that Burnside assumed weed scientists were competent to do the research and address risk questions. He said that “when the facts are unknown, undefined, or unbelieved (sic), then value judgments become the basis for decision making.” He alluded to axiology, the branch of philosophy that deals with the nature and types of values. Burnside recognized that classifying a plant as a weed is a value judgment but he did not proceed to define the role of values relative to questions regarding environmental contamination or non-target poisoning. He claimed, as many of his predecessors had, that emotion and fear were not an adequate basis for judgment. Questions about environmental contamination or non-target poisoning, in his view, were scientific questions not value judgments and science could provide a sufficient answer. He claimed that “weed control makes heavy demands on our value assessments.” However, the “differing opinions and rising public emotions ultimately are reflected in laws and regulations which govern weed control activities.” Weed scientists were admonished to be “a good listener, and respond in a rational manner,” which for Burnside and his predecessors, meant with scientific data and facts unhindered by emotion. Value decisions are inevitable but proper decisions must be guided by science and not by emotion that always lacks scientific objectivity. Although it was not said, I suggest, this position is common among scientists because we have learned, incorrectly, that science is value free, rather than value laden. We learned that scientific judgments are not (in fact, should not be) hampered by emotion and fear, which is also false. Dawson (1988) said that weed scientists must be certain “the new weapons we develop for the battle with weeds are efficacious and environmentally safe, do not endanger the supply and quality of our food or water, and are built and maintained on a firm foundation of scientific understanding.” Scientific judgment remained the best way to judge environmental safety. Dawson also noted that weed science is not committed to a balance of nature. In fact, and consistent with Shaw (1964), disturbing the balance of nature is required if “we are committed to meetings man’s ever-increasing needs.” In Dawson’s view, modern society developed only after “man replaced the native vegetation with such unnatural plants” as wheat, soybeans, and corn. In his view, our material wellbeing is proportional to the degree to which we have disturbed the balance of nature. That disturbance should modify but not destroy the environment to achieve environmental security (a term left undefined)—a goal to which WSSA is deeply committed as the society is “to scientific excellence.” Ahrens (1989) communicated a clear view of the role of weed science. The greatest challenge for the 1990s was to communicate the needs of weed science to administrators. If we failed to do this well, Ahrens’ feared that weed science research, extension, and teaching would not be funded adequately, farmers would lose vital production tools, and proliferating ignorance and regulatory constraints would thwart efforts to provide cost-effective weed control and maintain environmental quality. He implied that a general ignorance about the value of weed science combined with a false, negative public perception about the bad environmental effects of man-made chemicals led to unnecessary
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regulation. Perceptions had replaced facts. Ahrens’ view of false public perceptions about herbicides was consistent with the view of many of his predecessors. These false public perceptions led to the results listed with Ahrens’ comments in the earlier section on “The Necessity of Herbicides.” He also pointed out that while small quantities of some herbicides have been detected in groundwater, no one had established that the amounts detected were important or harmful. That is to say, in Ahrens’ view, scientific evidence of presence had been produced but no scientific evidence of harm had followed. Therefore, there was no harm, only irrational fear. He concluded by echoing the words of several of his predecessors, the role of a scientific society, in any debate, should be to present scientific facts, tempered by knowledge of practical alternatives and experience. His conclusion emphasized the primacy of scientific facts but gave an important role to experiential knowledge and practical alternatives. Scientific facts are important but only in the right hands and when used in the right way. Scientific facts alone cannot and do not yield proper judgments about what to do. Ahrens’ (1989) address was followed in 1990 by LeBaron who, as noted above, presented a passionate, sincere defense of the proper use of herbicides. LeBaron thought some environmental concerns had arisen because of herbicides but that only some of them were real concerns while many were not. Good science, if allowed, will produce environmentally sound herbicides and weed control technology. He made the reasonable request that weed scientists ought to address the environmental and human health risks of not using herbicides. His plea went beyond a quick response to the environmental risks of herbicide use, to the disadvantages to yield and environmental quality of reduced herbicide use. With this request, LeBaron had not moved to the environmentalist camp because he maintained the view that herbicide risks to food quality, public health, and the environment are “an emotional fraud perpetrated against the public, largely for dishonest and selfish purposes.” His view was that careful presentation of the risks of not using herbicides would demonstrate their essentiality and show, through subsequent benefit-risk analysis, that the benefits were huge and that the risks of harm were minimal to non-existent. Abernathy (1992) continued the theme of perception versus reality by charging that environmental groups “know just enough about agricultural practices and about weed science to be dangerous.” This conceit ignored the equally plausible accusation about weed scientists that could be made by an environmental group. Weed scientists were not known, in some quarters as, “nozzle heads” for no reason. Weed science’s unquestioned support of herbicides and modern agricultural technology were well known to many. Abernathy claimed that environmental groups seemed to know so much because their conclusions were not clouded by facts, data, or detail; that is, they were not scientific. For these groups, the issues, conclusions, and the decisions derived from conclusions were very simple and clear cut. Abernathy (1992) pointed out that environmental groups had 11 million members and there were fewer than 2 million farmers in the United States.
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Thus, political power was concentrated in environmental groups and diminished among farmers and those that supported them. In his view, this led to creation of significant environmental legislation that dealt with agriculture being handled by Congressional environmental committees rather than, and in his view, properly by agricultural committees. Weed science, an essential activity, had been maneuvered by widespread public misperception of its technology and purpose into a weak political position. In contrast to weed scientists, environmental groups often suggest that insider-only approaches to science policy and practice are antithetical to the open, vigorous, and creative public debate on which democracy and good science thrive (Sclove, 1998). The problem may not have been (or may not be) that weed science has been maneuvered into a weak political position. The problem may be the weak defense weed science was able to mount for its technology. The defense was simply defensive and did not give credence to opposing views. Environmental groups argue, as Smith (1997) does, that in modern, capitalist societies there is a tendency for any technology with commercial potential “to further social inequality, undermine popular sovereignty, generate environmental crises, and colonize every nook and cranny of everyday life with corporate propaganda.” Agricultural examples of this phenomenon are the rise and widespread use of herbicides advocated and developed by weed science and the current rise and ubiquity of herbicide-resistant crops. A large percentage of the U.S. corn and soybean crop is now planted with seeds genetically modified to be resistant to a herbicide. Questions about the effect of this technology on small farms and rural communities are asked by environmental groups but largely ignored by weed scientists and growers in their rush to adopt the technology. The resistance to consuming genetically modified products in Europe has been recognized by involved agribusinesses but ignored, or dismissed as emotionally rather than scientifically based, by weed scientists. The questions were to be overcome through education by company marketing and advertising groups. This tactic, generally regarded as corporate propaganda, is observed with caution by the public.
Excessive regulation A frequent presidential concern, related to environmental matters, has been the excessive regulation imposed on herbicides that has impeded progress toward solving production problems caused by weeds. As early as 1967, Furtick (1967) said there are unreasonable delays in acceptance of practices “which are safe, no more toxic than table salt, and of no problem to environmental contamination.” Furtick pointed to his perception that illnesses and deaths due to accidental herbicide exposure were practically non-existent and also claimed that “no known deaths or serious illness has been attributable to residues of any pesticide.” What was needed in view of the enviable safety record was more efficient (quicker) herbicide registration. He recommended a process be developed for orderly introduction of “materials necessary to increase production.”
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Furtick knew that if registration problems were not solved through cooperative efforts between the chemical industry and government they would be solved but not necessarily in a way that was beneficial to the public or to the progress of weed science. Klingman (1970) claimed that advanced nations, those most dependent on technology, will suffer most if technological resources are taken away. Technology is under attack by what he called “naturalists” who want “natural foods” produced by “nature’s wisdom” in “an environment free of technology.” He argued that many things people do are not natural and that people who want natural products are also those opposed to fluoridation of water and vaccinations and may be organic gardeners. They achieve their aims through legislation but “today, there is nothing to indicate that the public needs protection from herbicides as they are labeled and used.” Rodgers (1974) noted that the 2,4,5-T regulatory issue included emotional appeals, half-truths, and innuendo from various sources in the United States. He suggested that if 2,4,5-T was eventually banned (it was in 1984), the action would serve as added stimulus for regulatory or legislative proposals to ban other herbicides important to production agriculture. Knake (1975) cautioned his audience that they must guard against actions that might stifle either the productivity of scientists or the free-enterprise system. He said that when opportunities for financial gain exist, there is some inherent risk of overzealous efforts, especially by those concerned more with sales than science. Weed scientists must be sure the benefits adequately (not defined) exceed the risks before a product is released by research and development to sales and marketing. Part of the benefit-risk evaluation process will be objective (science-based) evaluation of benefits and risks. He implied, although he did not say, that objective benefit-risk analysis would result in advancement of weed science and continued development of new herbicides by the agri-chemical industry and their subsequent and prompt registration by government regulatory agencies. Foy (1977) agreed and claimed that the regulations were increasingly restrictive and, in some cases, were overly so. He wanted a clear definition of what constituted an unreasonable adverse risk. WSSA had always held the position that costs (risks) and benefits must be carefully assessed when reaching an objective decision about a pesticide. Risk-benefit analysis was the WSSA method of choice and was viewed as an objective method. Presidents generally held that common sense, rather than emotion or politics, should prevail in each consideration affecting pesticide use. Once again we see the appeal to rational scientific objectivity and the dismissal of reasons or arguments perceived to be based on emotion. Foy (1977) strenuously objected to decision-making authority on pest management options being taken away from the USDA that had the expertise, the specialized talent, scientific understanding of the issues, and practical experience and being given to the Council on Environmental Quality that he regarded as “an agency ill prepared to function responsibly in this area.” Hay (1980), the only Canadian president, thought it was unfortunate that government often adopted an adversarial approach to pesticide regulation.
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He thought the same was true for journalists for whom bad news was good business, and for politicians who played on fear of the unknown. Carpenter’s (1981)11 view was that while the WSSA was in good to excellent shape, regulation was at the top of the problem list. He lamented the slow pace of new product appearance, the long time from submission of a request to product registration (then over 7 years), and the defensive costs of registration dealing with toxicity, metabolism, environmental chemistry, residues, and the registration process itself. There were delays, uncertainties, and inconsistencies in product label approvals. Weed scientists needed to work toward elimination of duplication, conflicts of interest, and the role of self-serving advocacy groups. WSSA was not regarded as self-serving or as an advocacy group. LeBaron (1990) opened his remarks by claiming that further excessive regulations and restrictions imposed on agricultural chemicals and technology could have serious destructive effects on our economic, social, political, and environmental way of life. He did not go on to explain what these effects would be except to say that food and fiber production would decrease because our society will lose the only consistent, dependable, efficient, and economical means of weed control the world has ever known—herbicides. Feeding the world is a major responsibility and because there are no realistic replacements for herbicides to control weed problems, we cannot stand by and see them regulated out of existence. As mentioned above, Abernathy (1992) continued the theme of excessive regulation by committees and groups who did not understand production agriculture or its needs.
Education The related problems proposed by several presidents—environmental groups’ misunderstanding of weed science and its mission, the many challenges to the technology required to accomplish that mission, and the imposition of excessive regulation, were to be addressed and with persistence solved by education. This is not at all surprising when one considers that twenty-two of the past presidents were highly educated academics. They all appreciated the benefits of education. Willard (1951) in the first issue of the journal Weeds counseled weed scientists that they must educate the public on what needs to be done and on why weeds are important. I suspect most weed scientists intuitively accept Willard’s (1951) thought because of their long educational preparation and, for many, experience as teachers. However, it took 18 years for education to emerge again as a major theme of a presidential address. Behrens (1968) recounted many of weed science’s major problems with special emphasis on environmental views of non-weed scientists. He claimed that the actions and words of those who oppose weed science technology are derived, in large measure, from “erroneous and misleading statements concerning herbicides or their use.” Information on toxicology and residues is not readily available to 11
Carpenter, W. D., 1981. At the Crossroads: A Choice. Unpublished.
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those outside weed science. He was sure the debate about herbicide use would continue and it was essential that public judgments about herbicides be made “with all the facts in hand.” Each weed scientist was charged with doing more to get the facts before the public. Statements made from ignorance, out of prejudice, or in error had to be challenged and the correct information had to be provided about the discipline and its technology. Behrens assumed that weed scientists were competent to meet all challenges to the technology and had the necessary facts. Fully 20 years after Willard (1951) and 2 years after Behrens (1968), education was emphasized by Danielson (1971) who told weed scientists that the future (not just the future of weed science) was in jeopardy because the public does not clearly understand the importance of weed science or of any modern agricultural technology. The lack of understanding leads to decisions that will destroy our complex, highly productive agricultural system. Danielson cited Malthus and said “it is a matter of great concern, however, that in the public’s haste to reach some partially neglected goals of the past, an effort may be made to set everything in order over night.” In this haste, those constructive achievements in which we can take pride may be thrown out with our failures. “Lapses in public understanding of the importance of science, and a lack of public support, may well remove America from the vanguard of scientific and social progress in the world.” Adverse publicity, in his view, was the result of a huge gap in communication between scientists and the general public, among scientists of different disciplines, and between scientists and the press. Weed scientists in Danielson’s view “must let it be known that science and technology are making great contributions to public welfare, and that they are the keys to survival in a world of vastly expanding population.” In short, WSSA and its members need to get the message out about the value of their work. Weed scientists must educate the public about the benefits of what they do and the dangers of weeds. In the same year, from the same platform, Holm (1971) spoke eloquently on the role of weeds in human affairs. Part of his message was how to accomplish the educational mission for weed science. He began with an excerpt from Whitehead (1925), quoted in full below. Modern science has imposed on society the necessity to wander. Its progressive technology, make the transition through time, from generation to generation, a true migration into uncharted seas of adventure. The very benefit of wandering is that it is dangerous and needs skills to avert evils. We must expect, therefore, that the future will disclose dangers. It is the business of the future to be dangerous; and it is among the merits of science that it equips the future for its duties.
Holm believed, as Whitehead did, that danger is deeply and fundamentally a part of science. He also believed that the general public wanted to regard science as a way to escape danger rather than a way to embrace and understand it. Science and technology were to keep us safe—not place us in harm’s way. To
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help ourselves and to improve the public’s image of us and what we do, Holm suggested that weed scientists had to speak out and might even find it necessary or justifiable to be militant at times. When we speak, he counseled, “we must also be gentle” and “we must not even try to bring procedures which are so complex that they cannot understand them.” Doing so will make people withdraw. “We must be honest—we must not allow the use of things which will hurt these people (those who do the weeding), or their animals, or their fields in the short or long term.” Finally, Holm told us that “we must try to bring them some things they cannot see or hold in their hands.” I think Holm meant that we must be, as he was, good storytellers. It is not just the facts that will convince. It is not just the science. It may be how well you tell the story; how well you can illustrate what cannot be seen or held in a hand. Weed science does have a good story to tell, but sadly it has few story tellers as capable as Whitey Holm. The next year, Klingman (1972) returned to emphasis on “statements that are factual.” The necessity to educate lingered, as it always had, as an essential activity that we ought to do more of but again it was not emphasized by a president until LeBaron (1990) declared that we must educate all on the risks of not using herbicides. What he called the religion that natural is good and synthetic is bad must be addressed with good science and objectivity. We were not told to find a good story and tell it well. The message was about the value of scientific objectivity that would convince a skeptical public. I believe that the public is skeptical of the scientist’s claim of objectivity because they know it is not true. Science and scientists are not and never have been value free. Both are value laden and the public knows it.
Comparison to other plant protection disciplines12 Twelve presidents have lamented what they viewed as the poor treatment of weed science in comparison to plant pathology and entomology. The claim usually was that the other disciplines were better funded and staffed than weed science even though losses due to weeds exceeded losses from plant pathogens or insects. The case was presented early by Buchholz (1961) who reported the growth in number of acres treated with herbicides from 1940 through 1959 (100,000 to 48 million acres) and compared this to the acres treated with other pesticides. He used the data on the large number of acres treated for weed control and the small number of weed workers to justify more support for weed research. Shaw (1964) said that no discipline has revolutionized agricultural technology the way weed science has. “The use of chemicals to replace physical energy for weed control” has “opened new horizons for increased efficiency in the production of food, fiber, and livestock in American agriculture.” Shaw saw herbicides as more than just another group of pesticides. They were crop production chemicals that 12
The issue of university departments of weed science is discussed in Chapter V.
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also reduced labor requirements, machine use, and horsepower requirements. It was his view that the funding for weed research was not and had never been adequate to handle the demands of the technology. Furtick (1967) thought weed science received too little respect in view of its great accomplishments. Behrens (1968) claimed that weed science needed to increase efforts to gain proper recognition from government agencies and university administrators. He noted that 10 percent of pest control research funds were going to weed science, whereas weeds caused 40 percent of the crop losses due to all pests. Klingman (1970) was the first president to advocate establishment of departments of weed science by universities. He suggested that after the advent of 2,4-D, weed science has had more research and educational challenges than most other agricultural areas and “weed science could have served as one of several programs capable of revitalizing the college of agriculture program.” Rodgers (1974) believed that weed science was underfunded in comparison to other plant protection disciplines and also advocated establishment of departments of weed science. He believed that if departments were created it would be a step toward adequate funding, because weed science was a discipline that “has just begun to grow.” I suspect many presidents thought departments were a good idea but not one that merited frequent mention. Santlemann (1979), however, thought it was a bad idea. He thought weed science was a discipline, but fighting for departments was a bad idea because it would lead away from the necessity of integration of pest management for crops. It is the view that prevailed because although there are two departments that include in their names “Weed Science,” there are no Weed Science departments in any North American university. After Santlemann’s (1979) comments, disciplinary equality was not to be found through creation of weed science departments, but it was still sought and its lack was mentioned by other presidents. Foy noted, in 1977, that the discipline was grossly understaffed at all levels in comparison to known costs, losses due to weeds, and the importance of the subject. Davis (1982) noted the steady decline of federal dollars for research and the “limiting of money to those that agree to comply with the goals of social programs.” McWhorter (1984) agreed that weed science was underfunded and understaffed in general and especially in comparison to other plant protection disciplines. For the next 10 years, the equality issue disappeared but it was raised again by Abernathy (1992) and Antognini (1993) who called for more research funds. They emphasized the need for weed scientists to influence policy makers who make decisions about research funding. Coble (1994) provided data to show that federal weed science funding had increased from $1.7 million in FY 1981 to $6.4 in FY 1991. However, entomology funding had risen from $48 to $61 million and plant pathology (including nematology and plant virology) had moved from $61 to $67 million, in the same period. Coble (1994) said that, “Both of these pest management fields of science are obviously important to agriculture. However, based on relative crop impact, amount of money spent on control, and any other measure of relative importance, weed science comes out equally as important as the other fields of pest science.” The inequity had
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to be rectified if “weed scientists are to provide the management options for a fully integrated pest management system.” Ogg (1995) agreed and commented that weed science does not have enough publicly funded scientists to gain significant federal funds in comparison to entomology or plant pathology. He advocated as Santlemann (1979) had, that WSSA and weed scientists had to cooperate with other agricultural groups in a concerted effort to change public policy toward agricultural research.
The problem of resistance Resistance to herbicides and resistance management have become topics of great interest to weed scientists in recent years. Weed scientists were warned by Shaw (1964) of the potential problem of herbicide-resistant weeds and the need for rotational use of herbicides to prevent resistance development. Resistance did not appear again on the general session platform until Parker (not a WSSA president, 1972) provided two reasons for not introducing herbicides in developing countries. They were: 1. The large labor supply in developing countries and the fact that introduction of a labor-saving technology might lead to social unrest. 2. To reduce the build-up of resistant weeds.
Parker’s developing country experience had shown him that peasants were often dependent on seasonal labor opportunities—weeding and harvesting. If herbicides reduce the need for labor, that could have undesirable social effects. Weeding in the minds of western weed scientists was an undesirable task of human drudgery that should be diminished if not eliminated. In Parker’s view, while weeding was not the most desirable task, a job was personally and societally better than no job. His was a positive societal concern rather than a negative reaction against herbicides and herbicide manufacturers. He also saw the need to avoid development of resistance by repeated use of herbicides. After 1964, no president mentioned herbicide resistance for 20 years until McWhorter (1984) noted the need to know why weed species become tolerant to herbicides as one among twelve reasons to develop integrated weed management systems. Others were silent on the issue until LeBaron (1990) noted that the greater the selection pressure (i.e., the effectiveness of weed control) the more likely it was that weeds will evolve resistance. Resistance has been included regularly in many oral and written papers in the 1990s, but was absent from presidential addresses.
Sustainability A word absent from presidential addresses is “sustainability.” Its absence is curious because the concept is so common in the agricultural literature of the 1990s. One hesitates to use the term bandwagon but sustainability has many characteristics of a bandwagon term. It is popular and everyone wants their
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ideas for agriculture to be accepted as promoting or achieving sustainability. Exactly what is to be sustained is not always clear because the word has no precise meaning. It, similar to “weed,” is defined by the user. The topics emphasized by presidents (production and profit, the necessity of herbicides, the environment, regulation of herbicides, education, comparison to other pest control disciplines, and resistance) identify the primary orientation toward production, profitability and the techniques to achieve them. Profitable production was the cornerstone of a 1989 draft statement on sustainability issued by WSSA.13 Most WSSA presidents have been for sustained growth of production and profit. Sustained growth was regarded as good and achievable. It was used by many in agriculture as a synonym for sustainable development which, in Daly’s (1996) view, is achievable. Growth is quantitative increase in size or amount and is not achievable in a finite system. Sustainable growth, in Daly’s view is an oxymoron. Sustainable development is qualitative change; development without growth. Presidential addresses have been oriented toward sustainable growth of production and do not mention achieving or sustaining social justice, small farmers, agricultural communities, or the environment because apparently these are not the concern of weed science. Sustainability may not be mentioned for at least three reasons. First, it seems implicit that sustainability may be tended to by someone else after progress is made on production, the primary concern of weed scientists. Secondly, it may be assumed that modern weed science is contributing to sustainability by improving weed management systems with present technology. Thirdly, there may be skepticism (Schaller, 1993) about sustainability because sustainable agriculture involves a fundamentally different way of thinking about agriculture. It requires changing our assumptions and conclusions based on those assumptions. Tolstoy reminded us how difficult that is.
Conclusion I don’t recall hearing the word “sustainable” when I was a student, and the “environment” was acknowledged but not endangered. Both are now powerful ideas with powerful constituencies, but the former has not been discussed by presidents and the latter has appeared only as a defense against criticism of weed science practice. These ideas will change the direction and emphasis of weed science but, with few exceptions, the challenge and opportunity they represent are not reflected in presidential addresses. The rise of new ideas and new alliances will dash some hopes and the new alliances will consolidate power and privilege and frustrate the dreams of others. The goals that presidents have regularly emphasized of more production and profit may be the wrong goals for the future. Dreams of more equitable and just societies probably ought to be considered. It is surely true that weed science can affect the development, direction, and future of the good society we all want. 13
Eastin, F., 1989. WSSA position statement on sustainable agriculture, Personal communication.
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The central norm, the primary moral stance of weed science, indeed of agricultural science is that it should benefit humanity by increasing production and improving the quality of food and fiber. It is a good goal. Weed science has a good story to tell but it has often not been told well. It is a story of scientific achievement, reduced human drudgery, accomplishment of selective weed management in many crops, and continued advance of scientific knowledge. The science lost some of its appeal when the public began to know, with good evidence, that the environment was being harmed. Now young weed scientists are exploring and mapping new ground and, I am confident, they will find ways to peaks of knowledge that I cannot even imagine. One hopes that with their abundant energy and new vision, they will reflect on those who have gone before, who removed or did not remove what the Lebanese mystic and author Kahlil Gibran called the stumbling stones.14 Many of these stumbling stones, some removed and some still in place, can be found in what the presidents said. Agriculture and its technological disciplines are primary moving forces behind many social changes, some good and some bad. For example, agriculture is one of the few production activities that takes pride in and seeks public adulation for reducing its labor force and weed science has been a major contributor to the need for less labor, which has hurt some people who have lost employment. One thing learned from reading these addresses is that the persistence of value questions is an inevitable aspect of the human condition. Engaging in the debate about values, about what we ought to do, has been avoided by presidents but, as difficult as it will be, such debate will stimulate the full development of weed science, our intellect, and our collective humanity. Such discussions must take place in this time of political and cultural imponderables, when calm discussion and rational thought are frequently impeded by irrational anger. Our presidents have helped us navigate through complex times and surely the future will be no less so. WSSA presidents, the Board of Directors, and weed scientists must continue to work together to reach a consensus on constructive common ground. Calm discussion toward that common ground may feel like holding a small candle in a hurricane to see if there are any paths ahead where people who share a language can walk together, while thinking about and planning their future. A fear and, I am sure a fact, is that if weed scientists do not venture forth to understand and plan the future; it will just happen or it will be imposed by others.
14
Gibran, K., 1972. The Prophet. A. Knopf, New York, pp. 40–41. Like a procession you walk together toward your god-self You are the way and the wayfarers And when one of you falls down he falls for those behind him, a caution against the stumbling stone. Ay, and he falls for those ahead of him who though faster and surer of foot, yet removed not the stumbling stone.
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In 1931, the historian Carl Becker admonished the American Historical Association with words that weed scientists would do well to ponder as they plan the future. Berate him as we will for not reading our books. Mr. Everyman is stronger than we are, and sooner or later we must adapt our knowledge to his necessities. Otherwise, he will leave us to our own devices, leave us it may be to cultivate a species of dry professional arrogance growing out of the thin soil of antiquarian research. Such research valuable not in itself but for some ulterior purpose, will be of little import except in so far as it is transmuted into common knowledge. The history that lies inert in unread books does no work in the world … . If we remain too long recalcitrant, Mr. Everyman will ignore us, shelving our recondite works behind glass doors rarely opened. (Quoted by DeGroot, 2000, from Becker, 1931)
References Abernathy, J., 1992. Winds of change. Weed Technol. 6, 760–764. Ahrens, J.F., 1989. Meeting the challenge. Weed Technol. 3, 531–536. Andersen, R.N., 1991. The North Central Weed Control Conference: Origin and Evolution. North Central Weed Science Society, Champaign, IL, 206 pp. Antognini, J., 1993. Weed science challenges. Weed Technol. 7, 787–790. Appleby, A.P., 1993. The Western Society of Weed Science 1938–1992. The Western Society of Weed Science, Newark, CA, 177 pp. Appleby, A.P., 2006. Weed Science Society of America—Origin and Evolution—The First 50 Years. Weed Science Society of America, Lawrence, KS, 63 pp. Bacon, F. [1607], 1964. Thoughts and conclusions. In: Benjamin, F. (Ed.), The Philosophy of Francis Bacon. University of Chicago Press, Chicago, IL, p. 92. Bailey, L.H., 1923. The Seven Stars. Macmillan, New York, NY, p. 115. Beck, T.V., 1969. Presidential remarks. North Central Weed Control Conf. 24, 9–10. Becker, C., 1931. Everyman his own historian. Am. Hist. Rev. 37, 221–236. Behrens, R., 1968. WSSA—progress and challenges. Weed Sci. 16, 411–413. Buchholz, K.P., 1961. Weed control—a record of achievement. Weeds 10, 167–170. Burnside, O.C., 1975. How can we increase the effectiveness of the North Central Weed Control Conference, Inc.? Proc. North Central Weed Control Conf. 30, 15–17. Burnside, O.C., 1987. Image of weed science. Weed Technol. 1, 253–258. Burnside, O.C., 1993. Weed science—the step child. Weed Technol. 7, 515–518. Busch, L., 2000. The Eclipse of Morality: Science, State, and the Market. Aldine de Gruyter, New York, p. 164. Carson, R., 1962. Silent Spring, 25th Anniversary Edition. Houghton Mifflin Co., Boston, MA, 368 pp. Coble, H.D., 1994. Weed science and changing times. Weed Technol. 8, 420–421. Daly, H.E., 1996. Beyond Growth: The Economics of Sustainable Development. Beacon Press, Boston, MA, p. 167. Danielson, L.L., 1971. Looking ahead in weed science. Weed Sci. 19, 483–484.
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Davis, D.E., 1982. Some fundamental characteristics of quality research. Weed Sci. 30, 423–425. Dawson, J.H., 1988. Cooperation, contribution, communication, and commitment. Weed Technol. 2, 383–387. DeGroot, G.J., 2000. Why can’t the professor learn to speak? Christ. Sci. Monitor May (1), 11. Dunham, R.S., 1973. The Weed Story. Institute of Agriculture, University of Minnesota, St. Paul, Minnesota, 86 pp. Ennis Jr., W.B., 1958. The challenge of modern weed control. Weeds 8, 535–540. Foy, C.L., 1977. Presidential comments. Weed Sci. Soc. Am. Newsl. 5 (3), 1, 5, 6. Foy, C.L., 1978. Weed science today. Weeds Today 9 (3), 16–17. Frans, R., 1997. 50 years of weed science—foundation for the future. Proc. Southern Weed Sci. Soc. 50, Lxxxvii–xciii. Freeman, O., 1964. Science and education: a new awareness. Weeds 12, 163–166. Furtick, W.R., 1967. National and International needs for weed science, a challenge for WSA. Weeds 15, 291–295. Gould, S.J., 1987. The power of narrative. In: An Urchin in the Storm: Essays About Books and Ideas, W. W. Norton and Co., New York, Chapter 5, p. 79. Halberstam, D., 1993. The Fifties. Fawcett Columbine, New York, NY, 800 pp. Hannah, L.G., 1970. What next. Proc. North Central Weed Control Conf. 25, 9–10. Harrington, J., 1996. The Midwest Agricultural Chemical Association: a regional study of an industry on the defensive. Agric. History 70, 415–438. Hay, J.R., 1980. Weed science: a changing technology. Weed Sci. 28, 617–620. Hinkle, M.K., 1988. Weeds—a changing challenge. Proc. North Central Weed Control Conf. 43, 3–6. Holm, L.G., 1960. Visitors to the weed problem. Proc. North Central Weed Control Conf. 15, 62–65. Holm, L.G., 1971. The role of weeds in human affairs. Weed Sci. 19, 485–490. Klingman, D.L., 1972. Weed science in perspective. Weed Sci. 20, 401–405. Klingman, G.C., 1970. Who will do the research and teaching? Weed Sci. 18, 541–544. Knake, E.L., 1975. Pluck a thistle and plant a flower. Weed Sci. 23, 246–252. LeBaron, H.M., 1990. Weed science in the 1990s: will it be forward or in reverse? Weed Technol. 4, 671–689. Lewis, W.J., van Lenteren, J.C., Phatak, S.C., Tumlinson, J.H., 1997. A total system approach to sustainable pest management. Proc. Natl. Acad. Sci. 94, 12243–12248. McWhorter, C.G., 1984. Future needs in weed science. Weed Sci. 32, 850–855. Merrigan, K.A., 1993. There is no such thing as weed science. Proc. Southern Weed Sci. Soc. 46, 3–8. Michaels, D., 2008. Doubt Is Their Product: How Industry’s Assault on Science Threatens Your Health. Oxford University Press, Oxford, UK, 372 pp. Murphy, C., 2000. The rise of provisional history. Atl. Mon. 285 (7), 14–16 July. Nagel, T., 1986. The View from Nowhere. Oxford University Press, New York, p. 3. Nalawaja, J.D., 1985. Twenty fifth meeting: reflections and projections. Weed Sci. 33, 582–584. Ogg, A.G., 1995. Expanding the Weed Science Society of America beyond weed science. Weed Technol. 9, 406–408. Parker, C., 1972. The role of weed science in developing countries. Weed Sci. 20, 408–413. Riggleman, J.D., 1986. Future priorities in weed science. Weed Technol. 1, 101–106. Rodgers, E.G., 1974. Weed science today. Weed Sci. 22, 464–468.
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Ryan, G.F., 1970. Resistance of common groundsel to simazine and atrazine. Weed Sci. 18, 614–616. Santlemann, P.W., 1979. Weed scientists—today and tomorrow. Weed Sci. 27, 349–354. Sarver, S.L., 1999. Uneven Land: Nature and Agriculture in American Writing. University of Nebraska Press, Lincoln, NE, p. 141. Schaller, N., 1993. Farm Policies and the Sustainability of Agriculture: Rethinking the Connections. Policy Studies Program Report No. 1. H.A. Wallace Institute for Alternative Agriculture, Greenbelt, MD. Sclove, R.E., 1998. Better approaches to science policy. Science 279, 1283. Shaw, W.C., 1964. Weed science: revolution in agricultural technology. Weeds 12, 153–162. Smith, T., 1997. Some remarks on university/business relations, technological development, and the public good. The Ag Bioethics Forum 9 (1), 6–9 June. Sweet, R.D., 1996. History 1947–1995 Northeastern Weed Science Society. Media Services, Cornell University, Ithaca, NY, 170 pp. Timmons, F.L., 1970. A history of weed control in the United States and Canada. Weed Sci. 18, 294–307. Republished Weed Sci. 53, 748–761. Tschirley, F., 1972. The impact of government decisions and attitude on pest control. Weed Sci. 20, 405–407. Upchurch, R.P., 1973. The role of the professional society. Weed Sci. 21, 369–373. Wieseltier, L., 2009. Love me I’m a liberal. The New Republic 240 (4), 48. March 4. Whitehead, A.N., 1925. Science and the Modern World. MacMillan Co., New York, NY, p. 2. Whitson, T.D. (Ed.), 1991. Weeds of the West. Western Society of Weed Science, Las Cruces, NM. Printed by Pioneer of Jackson Hole, Jackson, WY, 630 pp. Willard, C.J., 1951. Where do we go from here. Weeds 1, 8–12. Willard, C.J., 1954. Weed control: past, present, and prospects. Agron. J. 46, 481–484. Zimdahl, R.L., 1999. My view. Weed Sci. 47, 1.
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8 Weed science and changes in agricultural practice Almost all important questions are important precisely because they are not susceptible to quantitative answers. I would suggest that these are the things that matter most. Schlesinger, Jr. (1962)
Chapter I began with a brief comment on Paul Gauguin’s painting and the questions in its title: Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we going? A partial answer to Gauguin’s first question is that weed science has evolved in a series of technological successions. The unquestioned, guiding assumption of the development of weed science technology has been that anything weed scientists could figure out how to do to manage weeds, they would and should do. Agricultural education that has guided weed scientists has emphasized theories, not values, neat answers to important problems rather than questions, technical efficiency over conscience, and know-how over know-why. As weed work evolved toward becoming a discipline in the late 1940s and early 1950s the task of those engaged in agriculture was changing. It was becoming more difficult because societal expectations of agriculture and of those involved in it were changing. Agriculture was gradually evolving from being regarded as a public good to being thought of by the general public as a source of problems. In recent years, the public through print, audio, and visual news media became aware of problems related to agricultural practice that were troubling and often seemed to be getting worse. These problems included soil erosion; mad cow disease; pesticide residues in soil, water, humans, and food; pollution from large confinement animal feeding operations (CAFOs); cruelty to animals; mining of water aquifers; soil erosion; huge financial subsidies to some farmers; and exploitation of, perhaps even abuse of and cruelty to, migrant laborers. Those engaged in production agriculture and those in land-grant universities and related agricultural organizations knew they still had and would always have their original mission—to ensure an abundant supply of safe, nutritious food and fiber. But in a very short time the mission had been amended with new challenges demanding that agriculture: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.
Reduce consumption of finite resources (e.g., fossil fuel and water). Avoid or minimize environmental harm. Minimize or eliminate toxic environmental and food residues. Reverse deterioration (preserve the viability and culture) of rural communities. Preserve long-term productive capacity, that is become sustainable.
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As these demands appeared, the negative attitude toward farming and farmers endured. Farmers and farming occupied one of the lowest levels of the economic and social hierarchy. They and those who worked with them were regarded by the general public, but often not by those engaged in agriculture, as socially, culturally, and intellectually inferior to urban folk. Berry (1970, p. 78), as he has done often, described the image and place of the farmer in American society; a view that persists. In an age of unparalleled affluence and leisure, the American farmer is harder pressed and harder worked than ever before; his margin of profit is small, his hours are long; his outlays for land and equipment and the expenses of maintenance and operation are growing rapidly greater; he cannot compete with industry for labor; he is being forced more and more to depend on the use of destructive chemicals and on the wasteful methods of haste and anxiety. As a class, farmers are one of the despised minorities. So far as I can see, farming is considered marginal or incidental to the economy of the country, and farmers, when they are thought of at all, are thought of as hicks and yokels, whose lives do not fit into the modern scene.
It must also be acknowledged that Berry’s pessimistic view may not be accepted by and is not true for many successful farmers who are excellent citizens, farmers, and businessmen. Weed and other agricultural scientists faced these challenges in a time of declining support for higher education and agricultural research, a general societal distrust of science and intellect because of well-known scientific failures (e.g., DDT, 2,4,5-T, Chernobyl, Three-Mile Island, the Challenger disaster), and an increasingly negative public perception of agriculture and its technology related to pesticides, biotechnology, and other things, mentioned above. All of this was occurring in a culture that relied on cheap energy and abundant food while demanding a clean (or cleaner) environment. Such large changes are difficult for any enterprise and are made more difficult when one doesn’t see them coming, ignores them, is not sure how to address the problems that appear, and has no new resources to do so. Agricultural education and its several disciplines, including weed science, thus became willing contributors to research and policies that led to several bad things: 1. Food and fiber production increased with a concomitant worsening of the longterm health of soils and groundwater. 2. Plant and animal genetic diversity have been reduced (see Kimbrell, 2002). Since the beginning of the twentieth century, 75 percent of the genetic diversity of the world’s crops has been lost (Singer, 1998, p. 376). 3. The U.S. diet favors animal over plant products. 4. There is a reduced flexibility in agriculture’s political and economic system that has reduced crop and livestock choice among farmers. 5. The developed world’s agricultural system is capital, energy, and chemically intensive with a requirement for high-production volume and low-production cost.
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6. American agriculture encourages (if not demands) specialization in one crop (monoculture) and heavy reliance on synthetic fertilizers, pesticides, and special equipment for planting, harvest, and irrigation. 7. There has been a steady decline in the number of small- and medium-size farms and a steady increase in productivity (see The Economist magazine, July 5, 2008, p. 42; Center for Rural Affairs, www.cfra.org).
The response to these things among weed scientists and among their colleagues in colleges of agriculture has been applause. I often wonder what specific things I did during my professional career that caused or contributed to one or more of the seven things listed above. I do not know and I suspect most weed scientists would make the same claim. However, while the validity of the seven points is debatable, they are generally true, and absolute denial of the charges risks the accusation that what I and my colleagues were doing was totally irrelevant to the creation of the modern agricultural system that the seven points accurately describe. We all participated in what Berry (2000, p. 144) describes: They replaced agriculture’s old dependence on the free energy of the sun with a dependence on purchased energy; in general they increased farming’s dependence on a supply economy that farmers cannot control or influence; over the years, these dependences have radically oversimplified the patterns of farming, replacing diversity with monoculture, crop rotation with continuous tillage, and human labor with machines and chemicals; they have replaced nature’s wisdom with human cleverness; they have caused widespread, profound social and cultural disruption. All these changes are still in progress. Whatever the technological or quantitative gains, this industrialization of farming has been costly, it will continue to be. Most of the costs have been “externalized”—that is, charged to nature or the public or the future.
We live in a society where all must eat but our society places very little value on the production of food and fiber or on those who produce them, and perhaps little more on food itself. People fail to appropriately value what is always present in such abundance. One wonders how we created a system with these values. Some of the answer can be found when we acknowledge that those who farm and those who work in colleges of agriculture and associated institutions were not educated to question their values or agricultural practice. Self-scrutiny was not part of the curriculum. Doing good work was. Achieving rapid, pragmatic results was what those in agriculture were taught to do and what they have done well. Agriculture’s practitioners know and seemingly have always known that they were engaged in any nation’s most important activity, the one essential activity, food production. Agriculture is an activity of undeniable, ultimate importance. Agricultural scientists and farmers, together with the majority of Americans, exulted in the productivity of new, modern technology. Technology was unconsciously associated with the paradigm that industrialization was essential for
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progress and development (Adas, 1989, p. 413). Continued development of modern agricultural technology was regarded as essential to modernization of agriculture and rising productivity required to feed Americans and the world. Such development was also regarded as essential to progressive social development (Adas, 1989, p. 410). Technology and modernity were inextricably linked. Those engaged in agriculture were confident that the U.S. technological model would serve all societies as a guide to progress that followed the scientific-industrial pattern developed so successfully in the West. Modernity and thereby modern agriculture were regarded as rational, pragmatic, empirically based, and efficient—the accepted ways of gaining scientific knowledge identified in Chapter I. Few others have been more eloquent spokesmen for the value of western agriculture than Nobel Laureate Norman Borlaug. In 1997 he said: Twenty-seven years ago, in my acceptance speech for the Nobel Peace Prize, I said that the Green Revolution had won a temporary success in man’s war against hunger, which if fully implemented, could provide sufficient food for humankind through the end of the 20th century. I now say that the world has the technology—either available or in the pipeline—to feed a population of 10 billion people. The more pertinent question today is whether farmers and ranchers will be permitted to use this new technology. Extremists in the environmental movement from the rich nations seem to be doing every thing they can to stop scientific progress in its tracks.
Borlaug also warned that unless “the frightening power of human reproduction was curbed” the success of the green revolution would be ephemeral. So, there we have it, we must continue down the path of agricultural productivity because people must be fed. It is a moral obligation. However, in India’s Punjab region, the site of one of the green revolution’s greatest successes, it has already become ephemeral. Groundwater supply is diminishing, three times as much fertilizer is required as was used 30 years ago, and insects are becoming resistant to insecticides. Now the system is regarded as unsustainable and not profitable; it is collapsing (Zwerdling, 2009). India, where the initial years of the green revolution were enormously successful, is now illustrative of the risks of heavy reliance on modern technology. Many citizens of the rich countries live in highly developed societies characterized by crass consumerism, vulgar displays of material wealth, despoiling of nature, and a tendency to judge people not by what they mean but by what they can do. Even when they are aware of the green revolution’s failure in India, they are not affected by it and can ignore it. Highly developed societies are developed in the sense that most of their citizens enjoy a standard of living that others can only dream of. They are undeveloped in the sense that their response to world poverty and green revolution failures is not only insufficient but ethically indefensible. Developed societies, propelled by science and technology, have a strong tendency to treat humans, society, and nature as means to serve the not altogether
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improper end of feeding more people. These societies, individuals and, I suggest, each scientific discipline must struggle with the eternal questions posed by Gauguin: Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we going? We ask individually and collectively about the meaning of life and the purpose of our existence. Whether one confronts, ignores, or remains unaware of life’s central questions, they cannot be rejected as irrelevant. It is part of our human destiny to search for answers. Within agriculture, technology shapes and changes the context of those questions. The story of how new agricultural technology was developed, how we came to terms with it, adapted to it, altered it to suit our purposes is complex. Technologies never come with an adjustment specifications sheet. There are user instructions but no user manual ever explains how a technology will evolve and change us and our society with use. We cannot know with certainty what its future social and cultural effects will be. It is difficult to conceive of modern agriculture without its complex technology that, in a very real sense, created modern agricultural productivity. Similarly, it is difficult to conceive of modern life without e-mail and the Internet. We correctly note the pervasiveness of e-mail and of agricultural technology, but we may incorrectly assume that all that has been accomplished is good and that it could not have been done in other ways (Shapin, 2007). Most of those involved in agriculture have assumed that the technology that resulted from science would make a better world for all (Busch, 1982). It was seldom considered that the resulting mechanized, capital and chemically intensive agriculture would produce huge quantities of standardized products to which several industries would add value and make farming a business, like many other businesses. Farming would no longer be a way of life and many would be compelled to leave (Busch, 1982; Danbom, 1979, p. 66; see Center for Rural Affairs). Early weed and agricultural scientists uniformly regarded the independent yeoman farmer as the backbone of the country and an important contributor to the good society. But few saw that technological developments that drove the quest for productivity and efficiency would drive the many small-scale farmers out of farming. The technology and success of weed management systems were major contributors to changes that those most affected usually wanted. When a farm and one’s thoughts have been sufficiently modernized, the focus of industrial agriculture on production and efficiency becomes not just inevitable but logical. Maintenance of the land, the farmers and stewardship become secondary or forgotten (Berry, 2005). Not all are quite so pessimistic. It may be true that research and development in the world’s developing countries and attempts to maintain small family farms in the developed world are precisely the wrong goals. Research directed toward supporting subsistence production systems, rather than high-production options, has tended to sustain poverty rather than alleviate it (Smith, 1994). A stronger argument for continued use of herbicides to manage weeds is presented by Gianessi and Reigner (2006). They claim that if U.S. farmers did not use herbicides, crop production would decline 21 percent, equivalent to a loss of 288 billion pounds of food and fiber valued at $13.3 billion. Without herbicides farmers would have to increase mechanical
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cultivation of soil and increase use of hand labor to control weeds: together these would cost $7.7 billion. They calculate that 7 million more agricultural laborers who are not presently available would be needed. Increased mechanical cultivation would use at least 337 million more gallons of fuel. No-tillage that reduces soil erosion would have to be abandoned because it depends on herbicides for weed control. Abandoning no-tillage practices on the presently 62 million acres where they are used would, in Gianessi and Reigner’s analysis, increase soil erosion by 365 billion pounds per year. Hand and mechanical weeding are not as efficient as herbicides for weed control and they estimate that food and fiber production would decline even if the additional hand-weeding workers could be found. Therefore, the use of herbicides on more than 90 percent of the acreage of most major U.S. crops achieves the desirable goals of increasing food and fiber production, reducing soil erosion, and reducing the need for hand labor on farms. Upchurch (1969) said 40 years ago that without the regular development of new herbicides, weed control as a science could not have obtained the scientific status it has. Weed scientists have generally been pleased with Gianessi and Reigner’s (2006) analysis of the importance of herbicides to maintain the high production of modern agriculture. For many years, the primary focus of weed scientists was how to best use and maximize the benefits of herbicides. Herbicides defined the science. However, in the 1980s weed science research began to move away from screening new herbicides toward biological and ecological studies. The move, still underway, has been gradual and slow. Mistakes were made by users and promoters of herbicides but they were usually regarded as individual acts that originated from greed or stupidity. In the introduction to Hungry for Profit, Magdoff and colleagues (1998) argue that mistakes and disasters due to herbicides are not natural or inevitable. On the contrary, they are predictable results of human actions that are determined and guided by the way countries organize the production and distribution of food and fiber. The global commodification of agriculture in developed countries has its counterpoint in the destruction of peasant and small-scale agriculture throughout the world. The result is a capitalist agricultural system that gives rise to the paradox of increasing world food supplies together with increasing world hunger. Magdoff and associates note this paradox is not the result of the growth of world population that Borlaug (1997) correctly feared, because food production increases so far have exceeded the growth of population. In the four decades between 1950 and 1990, grain yield per acre increased more than 2 percent each year (Brown, 2009), more than the rate of population growth. Now hunger is rising in the world’s seventy least developed countries and the possibility of a second green revolution based on new technology is remote. “Many of the most productive advances in agricultural technology have already been put into practice, and so the long-term rise in land productivity is slowing down” (Brown, 2009). Annual growth in grain yield is now less than 1 percent per year (less than population growth) and in some countries (Japan and China) rice yield is near its practical limits (Brown).
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The paradox, noted above, is “a consequence of the fact that the immediate object of food production is not human sustenance and well-being but the growth of profits.” It is a paradox created not by the increasing ability to produce but rather by the capitalist organization of agriculture. This very successful organization has a major fault: it does not allow the market to tell ecological truth. Magdoff and co-authors (1998) suggest that the growth of agribusiness, the source of the herbicides that Upchurch (1969) correctly claims led to the creation of weed science, has concomitantly generated ecological problems “through the subdivision of traditional diversified farming into specialized production, the break in the soil nutrient cycle, the pollution of land and water (and food itself) with chemicals, soil erosion, and other forms of destruction of agricultural ecosystems.” Weed scientists and their colleagues in agricultural science have focused on finding short-term solutions to the economic, environmental, and ecological problems of modern agriculture without acknowledging the argument that long-term solutions may be possible only when the capitalist, profit-driven character of the agricultural system has been recognized and addressed. The social problems of the developed world’s agricultural system have generally been ignored by agricultural scientists. When those labeled with the epithet “environmentalist” point out the potential ecological, social, and human dangers of herbicides (and other pesticides), they are ignored or dismissed. The weed science community and the herbicide manufacturing industry routinely suggested that such claims are exaggerated and based on emotion, not on sound, scientific facts (Harrington, 1996, see Chapter VII). The major goals were to dismiss claims of danger because they were emotional and to stop attempts to restrict use and sale (availability) of modern technology. The ideology of the necessity of continued growth of agricultural production and therefore of the supporting agricultural chemical industry was the basis of the anti-environmental rhetoric. The agrichemical industry’s arguments in the latter decades of the twentieth century were based on the necessity of developing, in the public mind, an understanding of the necessity of herbicides and other pesticides to maintain the abundance of food Americans had a right to expect and to feeding the world—a moral obligation. Misuse, that is human error and stupidity, was the problem, not use (Harrington, 1996). Product regulation began when Congress passed the Food, Drug and Cosmetic Act in 1938. That law, similar to subsequent laws for pesticide registration and regulation of use, was passed in response to a public crisis. The transfer of pesticide registration from the apparently agriculture friendly hands of the U.S. Department of Agriculture to the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), which was created in 1970, was a major change also encouraged by public concern (perhaps especially Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring, 1962). Pesticide registration prior to 1970 was based on provision of evidence by the manufacturer in support of efficacy. Efficacy became a minor issue based on the assumption that no manufacturer would endure if the products sold did not do what they claimed to do. The EPA’s emphasis was on environmental and human safety. The legislatively mandated pesticide registration
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change occurred concurrently with a more subtle and gradual change in the role of land-grant universities. The research and extension arms of land-grant universities had, virtually since their creation, been the creators of new agricultural technology and the primary sources of new agricultural knowledge. These roles were not being relinquished but rather were being taken over by agricultural industry, including manufacturers of equipment, chemicals (fertilizer and pesticides), and seed suppliers. Industry became the source of new technology and of funding for university personnel to evaluate the technology. Industry was slowly becoming the primary source of new ideas and original thinking. Universities were losing much of their “production-oriented prominence to industry” (Crookston, 2006). It may have simply been due to the recognition that with declining state financial support, increasing vertical integration of agriculture, economies of scale, specialization, and other forces of change in agriculture, universities had to relinquish the research lead. Universities were compelled to respond to industry initiatives. This is not to say that industry innovations are per se bad. It is a recognition of the shift of the lead in research and extension away from the university. Weed scientists recognize the problems created by what Crookston (2006) calls substitution management. It is the substitution of chemical fertilizers and pesticides (particularly herbicides) for crop rotation and for the combination of animal and crop agriculture on most farms. Resistance to herbicides by an ever-increasing number of weeds will inevitably lead to the need for reconsideration of what are often regarded as traditional methods of weed control such as crop rotation, mulching, biological control, or companion cropping. Substitution management exists together with the global commodification of agriculture. This, in the view of Magdoff and colleagues (1998), has had two major results. The first is the destruction of small-scale agriculture throughout the world and the increase in production of crops in developing countries for export to developed countries. A consequence has been the aforementioned paradox of rising world food supplies and increasing world hunger. The second result, the growth of world agribusiness, has had a positive effect on weed science because intensive weed control in specialized monocultural production systems is essential. Concurrently these systems have changed soil nutrient cycles, had negative effects on agricultural ecosystems, and increased public and scientific concern about chemical contamination of the environment, food, and humans (Magdoff et al., 1998). All in agriculture use the word “sustainable” and everyone seems to be for it. But if one suggests the present production system is not sustainable because it is based on a non-renewable petroleum resource, or that food production and processing should not be concentrated in the hands of a few multinational corporations, or that environmental contamination is increasing, or that many farmers are becoming low-wage employees on their own land, or that farm worker’s health is compromised, or that confinement raising of animals is cruel and should be stopped, one is labeled by many, but not all, in the agricultural community as being emotional and not understanding the scientific facts and necessity of the present system to feed an expanding world population.
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This book on the history of weed science is not intended to be critique of capitalism or a complete analysis of the role of capitalism in the creation of the modern agricultural system. Others have done that well (Foster and Magdoff, 1998; Heffernan, 1998; Marx, 1967;1 Speth, 2008; Wood, 1998). However, the capitalist critique is one that weed scientists must recognize and discuss. It is neither the lack of technology nor the lack of understanding of long-term ecological processes that prohibit the creation of sustainable agricultural systems. Creation of such systems is inhibited by the current economic-social-political structure of our society (Foster and Magdoff, 1998, p. 45). Others argue that socialist systems failed because they did not allow markets to reflect economic truth and that very successful capitalist systems may fail because they do not allow markets to reflect ecological truth (Ehrlich and Ehrlich, 2008, p. 225). This analysis could be wrong but to ignore it or reject it without thought and consideration of its consequences is equally wrong. For example, the number of acres in farms and ranches in the United States has declined but not nearly as rapidly as the number of farms and ranches. The number of individual farm and ranch enterprises has declined more than 70 percent since 1930. There were 6.7 million individual farm enterprises in 1930 and fewer than 1.8 million today (Lewontin, 1998). Further, about 6 percent of the total number of farms and ranches account for 60 percent of the total farm value of production. Depending on one’s point of view, there are as many as or as few as 100,000 farms and ranches that produce more than half of the total value of all farm production (Lewontin, 1998). Most of these enterprises are not corporate owned; they are individually owned and operated or use rented land. There has been a steady reduction in the number of farmers and ranchers in all U.S. states but there has not been a significant increase in corporate ownership or operation of agricultural production. Fruit and vegetable production and animal finishing have some aspects of a what Lewontin (1998) calls a capitalist transformation of agriculture. Transformation to an industrial mode of agricultural operation will be revealed as a very few farmers and ranchers, employing a large labor force under close supervision to do a series of defined tasks on a tightly controlled schedule to produce a standard product. While there may be a trend in this direction, it is unlikely that it represents the ultimate direction of agricultural production for at least five reasons (Lewontin, 1998): 1. Land ownership is unattractive to capital because land cannot be depreciated and has low liquidity. 2. Farm labor is hard to control and manage because of the necessary expansive spatial geometry of much agricultural production. 1
Marx (1967, vol. III, Chapter 6, Section 2, p. 121) comments on agriculture, “The moral of history, also to be deduced from other observations concerning agriculture, is that the capitalist system works against a rational agriculture, or that a rational agriculture is incompatible with the capitalist system (although the latter promotes technical improvements in agriculture) and needs either the hand of the small farmer living by his own labor or the control of associated producers.”
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3. There are economies of scale that can be achieved in agriculture but most have already been gained. 4. The external risks of weather and new pests can be managed but often not as quickly as the occurrence demands and such problems cannot be predicted. 5. Finally, all in agriculture recognize that agricultural production is time dependent and the usual annual or several-month schedule cannot be shortened, which binds capital.
For these reasons, most of the value added in agriculture occurs after production of principal commodities and many, but perhaps not all, farmers are or are rapidly becoming low-wage employees on their own land. The great profit potential in agriculture occurs after primary production in value-added consumer commodities (e.g., Wheaties® are more valuable than wheat grain, sirloin steaks are more valuable than beef cattle). Agriculture faces a human and an environmental crisis. The human crisis is compounded by four things: a decline in the number of people engaged in production agriculture, a low return to those who invest in production agriculture, low wages and frequently harmful conditions for farm laborers, and the financial difficulty of beginning to farm or ranch.2 The environmental crisis is compounded by the fact that although present capital, chemical, and technology intensive agricultural systems are very productive of large quantities of low-cost food commodities, they are also the direct cause of several environmental, economic, and social problems (Altieri, 1998). It is common knowledge among citizens of all developed countries that the cost of nearly everything increases with time. Anyone who buys food will affirm that the cost steadily increases and continues to do so. The developed world’s agricultural production system has seen cost increases but many have been delayed by the production system’s hidden depletion (externalization) of environmental and social resources. Monocultural agriculture has lost the ecological strength gained through biological diversity and most practitioners regard the loss as less important than maintaining production. The system compensates for its vulnerability by dependence on highly reliable but expensive chemical inputs such as antibiotics for animals and herbicides for crops (Altieri, 1998). The cycling of nutrients when animal and plant production were combined on a farm has been lost. Vast monocultural crop areas without regular crop rotation create a dependence on continuous technological interventions to maintain production and profit. The system appears to be sustainable but is not. As mentioned above, agricultural scientists, farmers, and the majority of Americans exulted in the productivity of new, modern technology. Continued development of modern agricultural technology was regarded as essential to 2
Dr. Stanley Warren, Professor of Agricultural Economics at Cornell University and brother of weed scientist Fred Warren of Purdue University taught that there are three ways to become a farmer: patrimony, matrimony, and parsimony. The first two are possible but the possibilities are rare. The third is, for all practical purposes, impossible.
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modernization of agriculture and the rising productivity required to feed Americans and the world. Such development was also regarded as essential to progressive social development (Adas, 1989, p. 410). How weeding and weed technology affected the lives and roles of women is one example of the social aspects of change or the lack of changes in agriculture practice. The dilemma of women and weeding illustrates the general failure of most, but I am confident, not all, U.S. weed scientists to recognize the international dimension and inevitable social effects of weeds. Other areas of weed management that have important social dimensions that are usually small or neglected parts of developed world programs include: ●
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presently inadequate development of weed management systems for small farms in diverse ecosystems, the development of successful weed management systems for organic agriculture (see Chapter X), the collective failure to deal responsibly with critics of modern production agriculture, and the challenge of successful management systems for parasitic weeds in developing countries.
References Adas, M., 1989. Machines as the Measure of Men—Science, Technology, and Ideologies of Western Dominance. Cornell University Press, Ithaca, NY, 430 pp. Altieri, M., 1998. Ecological impacts of industrial agriculture and the possibilities of truly sustainable farming. In: Magdoff, F., Foster, J.B., Buttel, F.H. (Eds.), Hungry for Profit: The Agribusiness Threat to Farmers, Food and the Environment, pp. 60–71. Monthly Review 50, July/August, 1–160. Berry, W., 1970. A Continuous Harmony. Essays Cultural and Agricultural. Harvest/ HBJ, New York, NY, 82 pp. Berry, W., 2000. Life Is a Miracle. An Essay Against Modern Superstition. Counterpoint, Washington, DC, 153 pp. Berry, W., 2005. Renewing husbandry—after mechanization, can modern agriculture reclaim its soul? Orion September/October, 40–47. Borlaug, N.E., 1997. Feeding a world of 10 billion people: the challenge ahead. Plant Tissue Culture Biotechnol. 3, 119–127. Brown, L.R., 2009. Could food shortages being down civilization? Sci. Am. May, 50–57. Busch, L., 1982. History, negotiation, and structure in agricultural research. J. Contemp. Ethnogr. 11, 368–384. Carson, R., 1962. Silent Spring, 25th Anniversary Edition. Houghton Mifflin Co., Boston, MA, 368 pp. Crookston, R.K., 2006. Top 10 list of developments and issues impacting crop management and ecology during the past 50 years. Crop Sci. 46, 2253–2262. Danbom, D.B., 1979. The Resisted Revolution. Iowa State University Press, Ames, IA, 195 pp. Ehrlich, P.R., Ehrlich, A.H., 2008. The Dominant Animal: Human Evolution and the Environment. Island Press, Washington, DC, 428 pp.
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Foster, J.B., Magdoff, F., 1998. Liebig, Marx, and the depletion of soil fertility: relevance for today’s agriculture. In: Magdoff, F., Foster, J.B., Buttel, F.H. (Eds.), Hungry for Profit: The Agribusiness Threat to Farmers, Food and the Environment, pp. 32–45. Monthly Review 50, July/August, 1–160. Gianessi, L., Reigner, N., 2006. The value of herbicides in U.S. crop production. Weed Technol. 21, 559–566. Also available as a 31 page 2005 update (June 2006) at www.croplifefoundation.org. (accessed November 2008). Harrington, J., 1996. The Midwest Agricultural Chemical Association: a regional study of an industry on the defensive. Agric. History 70, 415–438. Heffernan, W.D., 1998. Agriculture and monopoly capital. In: Magdoff, F., Foster, J.B., Buttel, F.H. (Eds.), Hungry for Profit: The Agribusiness Threat to Farmers, Food and the Environment, pp. 46–59. Monthly Review 50, July/August, 1–160. Kimbrell, A., 2002. Fatal Harvest: The Tragedy of Industrial Agriculture. Island Press, Washington, DC, 384 pp. Lewontin, R.C., 1998. The maturing of capitalist agriculture: farmers as proletarian. In: Magdoff, F., Foster, J.B., Buttel, F.H. (Eds.), Hungry for Profit: The Agribusiness Threat to Farmers, Food and the Environment, pp. 72–84. Monthly Review 50, July/August, 1–160. Magdoff, F., Foster, J.B., Buttel, F.H. (Eds.), 1998. Hungry for Profit: The Agribusiness Threat to Farmers, Food and the Environment. Monthly Review 50, July/August, 1–160. Also available from Monthly Rev. Press. New York, NY, 2000. 248 pp. This edition includes twelve of the original fourteen essays. Marx, K., 1967. Capital: A Critique of Political Economy. Vol. III—The Process of Capitalist Production as a Whole. International Publishers, New York, NY. Originally published in German in 1894 in Hamburg, Germany. Schlesinger A., Jr., 1962. The humanist looks at empirical social research. Am. Sociol. Rev. 27 (6), 768–771. Shapin, S., 2007. What else is new? How uses, not inventions, drive human technology. The New Yorker, May 14, 144, 146–148. Singer, N., 1998. 20th Century Revolutions in Technology. Nova Science Publishers, Commack, NY, 440 pp. Smith, R.W., 1994. Changes in crop protection strategies for less-developed countries: and ODA perspective. In: British Crop Protection Council Monograph No. 61: Crop Protection in the Developing World. British Crop Protection Council, London, UK, pp. 51–58. Speth, J.G., 2008. The Bridge at the End of the World: Capitalism, the Environment, and Crossing From Crisis To Sustainability. Yale University Press, New Haven, CN, 295 pp. Upchurch, R.P., 1969. The evolution of weed control as a science. Indian J. Weed Sci. 1, 77–83. Wood, E.M., 1998. The agrarian origins of capitalism. In: Magdoff, F., Foster, J.B., Buttel, F.H. (Eds.), Hungry for Profit: The Agribusiness Threat to Farmers, Food and the Environment, pp. 14–31. Monthly Review 50, July/August, 1–160. Zwerdling, D., 2009. India’s farming “revolution” heading for collapse. http://www. npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId102893816 (accessed May 2009).
9 Weed science and the agrochemical industry It’s fascinating to me how preoccupied people are today with catastrophic prognoses, how books containing evidence of impending crises become bestsellers, but how very little account we take of these threats in our everyday activities … . What could change the direction of today’s civilization? It is my deep conviction that the only option is a change in the sphere of the spirit, in the sphere of human conscience. It’s not enough to invent new machines, new regulations, new institutions. We must develop a new understanding of the true purpose of our existence on this Earth. Only by making such a fundamental shift will we be able to create new models of behaviour and a new set of values for the planet. Vaclav Havel (1998)
The founders of weed science were agronomists, plant physiologists, and botanists. They were not weed scientists because neither the science (the discipline) nor the title existed when people began to direct some of their attention to weeds and the possibility of selective weed control in crops. In the academic world, many weed scientists are now housed in agronomy or crop-related departments but in general the links between the founding disciplines and weed science are weak. In contrast, the links between many weed scientists and the agricultural chemical industry are relatively strong. The strong links with the chemical industry have, in the view of many, created and directed the progress and accomplishments of weed science. The introduction of herbicides and the consequent ability to selectively control weeds in crops has been an enormously successful scientific adventure that has contributed a great deal to agricultural productivity. It is reasonable to claim that the introduction of herbicides for weed control was more successful than the introduction of other pesticides for insect and disease control. Success was due to learning from the experience and errors of earlier pesticide introductions, to improved scientific skills that avoided the same errors, and because society and agriculture, especially in the United States, were rapidly evolving toward the desirable goal of minimizing the human labor required to produce crops. Early weed scientists were confident that their work was essential to achieving the worthy goals of reducing the need for human labor to weed crops, reducing soil erosion from cultivation solely to control weeds, and reducing the cost of producing high-quality abundant food and fiber. Each of these good goals was achieved with significant
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cooperation between weed scientists who developed new chemically based weed management systems and the chemical industry that provided the chemical tools. A result was to give the United States and other developed nations the lowest cost, highest quality food with a continual decrease in the number of people required on the farm to produce the food. The agricultural revolution in which weed science played a role also achieved other things that are not regarded as equally good: rapid consolidation of farms and food companies, increasing damage from externalized costs1 such as livestock manure disposal, pesticide and fertilizer runoff from the point of use, and the collapse of many local food traditions into a few meta-cuisines that are accompanied by an excess of calories (Roberts, 2008, pp. 115–116). Chemical technology made vital, enduring contributions to protecting and increasing yield. It is clear that herbicides and other pesticides will be essential components of crop protection and production for several decades. There are no presently viable alternatives to herbicides for weed management in existing crop production systems for the world’s major crops. Herbicide-resistant weeds are a problem known to all weed scientists and they are being dealt with on several levels, including development of new herbicides, genetic modification, and herbicide rotation. The desire for environmental safety has been enforced by governmental regulation of herbicides and other pesticides and by the public’s desire to protect the environment and public health. One of the first publications to address the increasing public concern about pesticides in the environment (Carson, 1962) came about partially because of the cranberry scare of November 1959 (see Chapter VI). The cranberry scare was very well documented by the news media and for the first time, herbicides were things the public became concerned about. Weed science as a discipline was little more than a decade old and the chemical industry that made herbicides was young, growing rapidly, and was largely invisible until the cranberry scare. Warren Shaw, a leader in the USDA, knew someone had to respond to the cranberry scare because there was going to be an inevitable struggle about what government agency had authority over pesticides and he was confident there was a high likelihood of increased Congressional funding, which would be sought by many. With Shaw’s leadership, the USDA organized a symposium at the Beltsville, Maryland Agricultural Research Center from April 27–29, 1960. Twenty-two papers with speakers from the USDA and the U.S. Food and Drug Administration were published as ARS 20-9 (Anonymous, 1960). More than five hundred scientists attended from federal research and regulatory agencies, state agricultural experiment stations, and chemical companies. The symposium and the publication were designed to “contribute to greater advancement in research on agricultural chemicals and to a more complete 1 An externality is a cost that is not reflected in price, or more technically, a cost or benefit for which no market mechanism exists. In the accounting sense, it is a cost that a firm (a decision maker) does not have to bear, or a benefit that cannot be captured. From a self-interested view, an externality is a secondary cost that does not affect the decision maker.
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understanding of the part they play in providing our Nation with a wholesome, safe, and abundant food supply.” The federal funds available for herbicide and other pesticide research in the USDA increased, as Shaw had predicted, and the USDA began to assert a leadership role in herbicide research. Two new investigative units with new laboratories were created. The Herbicide Degradation laboratory at Beltsville, Maryland and the Plant Metabolism Laboratory at Fargo, North Dakota. These laboratories and the people who staffed and led them became leaders in the developing field of weed science. The new laboratories were oriented toward the study of herbicides. They were properly concerned with the metabolism of herbicides in plants and their fate in the environment. Scientists in the new laboratories, and many like them in other institutions, were well aware of the many kinds of damage weeds cause, especially the loss of crop yield. They agreed that losses due to weeds were too high and were often greater than those due to insects or diseases. Weeds reproduce quickly, disperse widely and readily and, if given an opportunity, tolerate and often do well in a wide range of environments. They easily become established in places where crops don’t do well, thrive in disturbed habitats of which the cropped field is a good example, and are difficult to control selectively almost everywhere they exist. They do well in the disturbed habitats we create because in so many ways weeds are like us, like humans: aggressive, versatile, prolific, and ready to travel (Quammen, 1999). Everyone who was involved with weeds and their control, from farmers and ranchers to chemical industry representatives and agricultural research scientists agreed that weeds were harmful and improving weed management systems was essential to maximizing profit for growers and to feeding an expanding world population. Herbicides developed by the expanding chemical industry seemed to be the perfect solution. They were effective, selective, and with adequate governmental regulation nearly everyone was sure they would be safe for users and for the environment. The new USDA labs were designed to provide the scientific data to verify these assumptions. Perkins (1982, p. 90), whose focus was insecticides and entomology, asked if users and research scientists were addicted to the new miracle chemicals. The same question is appropriate for weed scientists and the answer appears to be the same. Weed scientists became addicted to herbicides because they were easy, appropriate solutions to previously intractable weed problems. USDA policy makers and others assumed, as the weed science community did, that if there was sufficient funding and research support, new primarily herbicide-based weed control techniques that everyone wanted would be found. The assumptions were the same as those that had been used by the entomological community (Perkins, 1982, p. 49). The new, successful herbicide-based systems were welcomed by all weed scientists. Herbicides were a valuable and valued addition to the arsenal of pest control technology on which modern agriculture relied. Herbicide-based systems relied on continual development of new herbicides by the chemical industry and prescriptions for their effective use developed by the industry and cooperating university and USDA/ARS research scientists. Repeated heavy use
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led to many problems: persistence of soil residues, environmental contamination, food residues, warranted and unwarranted public fear, and weed resistance. Many, if not most, university weed research programs were designed to find and perfect the use of herbicides most suited to state and local cropping systems and to allay or eliminate the problems their use created. The dominance of herbicides is illustrated by the data in Table V-1 on the percentage of pages devoted to them in weed science textbooks and the data in Table IX-1 on the percentage of papers presented at weed science meetings that focused on herbicides. These data indicate the dominance of herbicide studies in volunteer Table IX-1 The percentage of papers focused on herbicides at weed science meetings attended by the author Society
Year
Percentage of papers on herbicides
Western Society of Weed Science
1992 1993 1995 1996 1998 1999 2000 2001 2002 2003 2004 2005 2006 Average
55.5 62.5 47.2 46.8 54 58.5 59 59.8 62 53.5 50.5 56.3 43 54.5
1987 1989 1990 1991 1993 1994 1995 1996 1997 1998 1999 2000 2001 2003 2006 Average
61.9 60.4 63.6 65.9 62.6 62.6 52.5 55 47 45 55 50 49.8 46 48 55.0
Weed Science Society of America
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papers presented by a diverse array of authors over several years. Years not included were omitted because I did not attend the meeting and did not have the program. The data show that more than 50 percent of the papers over several years have focused on herbicides. The data are not an indictment of quality of the work or the scientists. They only report what happened. It is interesting that a similar trend (see Figure II-1) is true in entomological research over three decades (Flint and van den Bosch, 1981, p. 71). It is clear from these and other data that herbicides dominate the U.S. and world pesticide markets (Kiely et al., 20042). In 2001 herbicides were 44 percent of the world pesticide market and 58 percent of the U.S. market, where in 2001, 78 percent of herbicides and plant growth regulators were used in agriculture. Weed scientists cite these data to support their claim that their science deserves more research support. Weed scientists also accurately claim that the damage caused by weeds and the dollars spent on weed control exceed damage from other pests. No one has done the research and it may not be possible to obtain reliable data on the influence of chemical company funding on the direction of weed science research. The data in Table IX-1 indicate but do not confirm that some level of relationship between university research and chemical companies exists. It is not common and not required by weed science journals that authors acknowledge the source of funding for published research. If the data could be developed, they would probably reveal that funding from a chemical company has frequently determined what research was done by university research scientists. This does not mean that the work was in any way scientifically suspect or poorly done. It could be interpreted to mean that the ideas often originated with the company and the work done was directed toward solving problems of importance to the company that may or may not have had equal importance to agriculture in the state where the work was done. In recent years herbicide development companies, similar to many other companies, have reduced staff and moved more of their basic research to university laboratories where it is less expensive. A strong influence of herbicide development companies on research done in the university endures. The relationship between funding source and scientific conclusions has been established for work on human nutrition (Lesser et al., 2007) and for pharmaceutical research (Bekelmann et al., 2003; Blumenthal, 2003; Moses et al., 2005). A summary of these investigations is that industry funding of scientific research may (and frequently does) lead to scientific conclusions in favor of the sponsors’ products with potentially detrimental implications for public health. Lesser et al. (2007) found that studies of commonly consumed beverages funded entirely by industry, conclusions were four to eight times more likely to be favorable to the financial interests of the sponsors than similar studies done without industry funding. There are many reasons for this. Industry representatives 2
These and more current data can be accessed at http://www.epa.gov/oppbead1/pestsales/u1pestsales/ market_estimates2001.pdf (accessed August 2008).
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may choose to provide funding to people or places that they are quite sure will present their products in favorable terms, or a competitor’s product in unfavorable terms. It is also suggested that scientists may formulate hypotheses for testing, study design, or data analysis in ways suggested by sponsors or in ways that are consistent with a sponsor’s interests. Publication of negative findings may be delayed or omitted. Finally, authors may choose to or be encouraged to search the literature selectively for other work that supports the sponsor’s interests (Lesser et al., 2007). These harsh accusations question scientific integrity and suggest, if not manipulation of data or experimental design, then selective interpretation of results. Neither is acceptable nor consistent with the fundamental tenets (the rules) of scientific investigation. If the medical and pharmaceutical scientific research communities are susceptible to commercial manipulation, it is not unreasonable to suggest that the agricultural research community may also be susceptible to such influence. Agricultural scientists were educated in good universities by competent mentors who knew and taught the rules for the conduct of research. It is also true that much of the money for research in weed science does not come from the government or independent funding sources but from companies. The research is done in state land-grant universities that used to claim they were funded by the state, then that they were state-supported. Now they seem only to be state located and regular government funding for support of all university activities, especially for research, has diminished if not disappeared. Funding support from commercial interests has continued to be available and what some have called sponsorship bias may exist although it has not been specifically identified. Weed science research and the supporting funding have been centered on herbicides because short-term success was nearly always ensured. Herbicide manufacturer’s funding has been quite easy to obtain, usually in a non-competitive granting system, and rapid solutions to the current weed management problems have been demanded by the agricultural community (Duke, 1996). The last reason is the most persuasive explanation for continued strong links between weed scientists and the agricultural chemical industry. Weed management is more reliant on herbicides than management of any pests. More than 70 percent of all pesticides used in U.S. agriculture are herbicides and the percentage has been quite constant for many of years. This is true because herbicides have and continue to offer a quick, safe, easy and generally a profitable way to manage weeds. It is also true that industrial funding for research on chemical control of weeds has been comparatively easy to obtain. It is equally true that funding for research on non-chemical alternative methods of weed management has not been easy to find or obtain. Therefore, it does not take long for the young weed scientist who wants to succeed and the older one who wants to continue to direct a research program to figure out the best source of funding. Those funds lead to the ability to attract good graduate students, publish frequent, high-quality scientific papers and satisfy the demand of agricultural constituents for rapid solutions to changing weed problems.
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The consistent demand by growers and weed scientists for rapid solutions to weed problems is not at all illogical or surprising. It is consistent with the everpresent and increasing pressure on all agricultural producers to produce more at lower cost or risk failure and loss of the farm. Agriculture in the industrial (developed) world has become a completely rational almost predictable enterprise, within the limits imposed by the weather. Agricultural businesses supply appropriate inputs of capital in the form of the right seeds, fertilizer, pesticides, machine technology, fuel energy, and research to produce ever greater and consistently profitable output (Roberts, 2008, p. 25). Farming has become a business and operates under business management techniques. Given the right inputs, one achieves the expected outputs that the natural world can be managed to produce, although the natural world has not yet been conquered to ensure continued, predictable production. Agricultural production has been studied to make it more efficient and productive but nearly all research has been directed toward the presently dominant capital, energy, and chemically intensive but ultimately unsustainable system. There is no alternative system waiting in the wings ready to be adopted. There are options but at the present time there is no agreement on or promotion of an option by agricultural scientists that will match the productive level of modern agriculture. Problems continue to occur. As they appear, they are discussed, research is done, and changes are made or not made depending on what the research reveals and how the data are interpreted. An example of a problem are the studies and news reports of the potential effects of atrazine on sexual development in frogs. Atrazine was the most commonly used herbicide in the United States and possibly in the world. One of the first reports by Hayes and colleagues (2002a) examined sexual development in tadpoles of African clawed frogs (Xenopus spp.) and found induced hermaphroditism and demasculinized larynges (plural of larynx) in exposed males. Effects occurred at levels as low as 0.1 ppb, which is thirty times lower than the US/EPA’s current safety level for drinking water. Another report from a Pennsylvania State University research group (Kiesecker, 2002) found that wood frogs (Rana sylvatica) infected with trematode (parasitic flat worms) parasites and exposed to pesticideladen agricultural runoff had an increased incidence of limb deformities. The parasites alone caused limb deformities but the incidence was significantly greater when atrazine was present. It appeared that atrazine and the common insecticide malathion weakened the immune system of frogs and made them more susceptible to parasitic infection. Other work by Hayes and associates (2002b, 2003) confirmed the earlier work that showed trace amounts of atrazine interfere with normal sexual development in frogs at levels well below the EPA’s safety threshold for human drinking water. The conflicting results of the frog studies were reported in the New York Times (Yoon, 2002). An article in the Chronicle of Higher Education (Blumenstyk, 2003) recounts how Syngenta (owners of atrazine) attempted to buy Hayes’ silence and bury his unfavorable findings. The Chronicle article makes it clear that large companies can and do
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use their influence to affect the outcome of university research. It is consistent with the findings about pharmaceutical research reported above. It is reasonable to suggest that the issue was resolved for the weed science community with the release of the US/EPA’s white paper on atrazine (Steeger and Tietge, 2003). The EPA study concluded: the weight-of-evidence based on currently available studies does not show that atrazine produces consistent, reproducible effects across the range of exposure concentrations and amphibian species tested. The current body of knowledge has deficiencies and uncertainties that limit its usefulness in interpreting potential atrazine effects. The available data do not establish a concordance of information to indicate that atrazine will or will not cause adverse developmental effects in amphibians.
The EPA study and the Weed Sci. Soc. of America newsletter of October 2002 agree that atrazine is innocent of the charges and the issue should be dropped even though atrazine is regularly detected in very low concentrations in U.S. surface waters (e.g., Seiders et al., 2006). The Western Society of Weed Science defended atrazine in its January 2008 newsletter: It’s unfortunate that atrazine’s “image” over the past 10 years has been “muddied” by certain groups who had a pre-determined agenda to “link” atrazine to the endocrine disruptor debate. However, the science of atrazine has prevailed.
Thus, the issue has been, in a sense, “resolved.” But it illustrates weed science’s support of chemical technology, which many believe, with limited scientific evidence, is environmentally dangerous, probably dangerous to the health of humans and other species, and not sustainable. The defense of atrazine as presented by the EPA (Steeger and Tietge, 2003) is scientifically reasonable but environmentally suspect. The defense, by acquitting atrazine of the charges has the unintended and definitely not explicit effect of endorsing the continuation and expansion of the developed world’s low-cost, high-volume agricultural model (Roberts, 2008, p. 115) as the only correct way to feed an expanding world population. The atrazine defense recognizes the benefits of the developed world’s agricultural system but ignores its costs. The defense was successful because atrazine was not quite proven guilty. The case illustrates an instance where the debate should have been expanded beyond the question of whether or not atrazine harms frogs to ask if the other costs not commonly associated with atrazine’s use are acceptable. Is it acceptable to continue to pursue the production benefits of the developed world’s agricultural system if it encourages continued consolidation of farms and food companies, damage from externalities (Are frogs important?), the collapse of many of the world’s local food traditions, and a flood of excess calories (Roberts, 2008, p. 115). It is not simply a question of whether or not the system is effective and productive or if it is sustainable, although each is an important issue. It is a question of whether or not perpetuation of the highly productive system is desirable for
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the earth and for people. It is not simply a scientific question to be resolved by another frog study. The defense seems to say—We are scientists, we do not deal with non-factual matters, because we base our decisions on scientifically verifiable facts. The US/EPA is the federal regulatory agency charged with developing and implementing the regulatory requirements that permit herbicides and all other pesticides to be used. The EPA is frequently in the awkward position of enforcing regulations to protect the environment and human safety while, at the same time, not creating and enforcing regulations that inhibit industrial creativity, profit, and agricultural production. Because the links between the founding disciplines and weed science are weak and the links between many weed scientists and the agricultural chemical industry are relatively strong, it is quite understandable that the view weed scientists have of the EPA and its role has been created by the latter strong affiliation. The EPA is often regarded by weed scientists as a necessary but too restrictive regulatory agency, if not an obstacle to the continued development of an essential industry’s significant contributions to the productivity of American agriculture and to the progress and accomplishments of weed science. Regulation and discussion of important issues (e.g., atrazine, 2,4,5-T, and amino triazole [see Chapter IV]) are important but progress should not be impeded by excessive regulation that ignores the necessity of profit for the chemical industry. It has been suggested that a contributing cause of the negative view of the EPA and its decisions is that the people hired by the EPA have limited, perhaps nearly no, knowledge of agriculture and its needs. The rational, reasonable set of planetary values proposed by Havel (1998) and based on reason are as important as the factual, scientific issues that tend to dominate agricultural discussions. The rapid collapse of farming communities across the United States should be part of the discussion. Many rural towns that were moderately prosperous 80 years ago and economically viable 50 years ago are now not quite but close to ghost towns without schools, banks, and supporting farm businesses (Davis, 2009, p. 13). The modern, capital, chemical, and technologically intensive system of agriculture is highly productive and has given the American public the cheapest food in human history. It also has real human and environmental costs that are easy to define but often ignored. The very successful developed world agricultural system has a productionist ethic. Its sole imperative is to produce as much as possible, regardless of the ecological costs and perhaps even if it is not profitable to the producer. Those who conduct agricultural research and try to address hard questions such as the relationship between large-scale atrazine use and frog deformities and those who apply the available agricultural technology that makes production possible have not paid much attention to long-term ecological and social effects because the immediate utilitarian benefits of production have been so apparent and available (Zimdahl, 2006, pp. 103–194). The real costs are neglected and among the principal causes is the belief that technology will save us. Weed scientists and many agricultural scientists are technological optimists who know of the impressive production gains created by
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technological advances. They are optimistic that new, better technology will be developed and will continue to increase food production by effectively bending nature to human will. Natural barriers to food production—insects, weeds, diseases, low fertility, lack of water, poor soil—will all be overcome by more knowledge and the inevitable and inexorable advance of technology. In the opinion of most agricultural scientists, there really has not been any limit to the potential of the industrial agricultural model, and their rear view mirror proves the correctness of their view. Agriculture is now a completely rational enterprise in which controlled inputs of capital as improved seeds, pesticides, fertilizers, machines, fuel, and research, yield predictable, reliable outputs and profits (Roberts, 2008, p. 25). The optimistic view is that continued progress in agricultural science will ensure that the United States will remain the OPEC of the world’s food economy. Neglect of the real costs and a failure to ask hard, non-scientific value questions may lead to agricultural catastrophe. The highly productive system is absolutely dependent upon energy from oil and natural gas both of which are past peak production (Kunstler, 2005). We may choose to ignore it but our situation and the relationship between weed science and the agrochemical industry may have been described well by Kingsolver (2003). Most of our populace and all our leaders are participating in a mass hallucinatory fantasy in which the megatons of waste we dump in our rivers and bays are not poisoning the water, the hydrocarbons we pump in to the air are not changing the climate, overfishing is not depleting the oceans, fossil fuels will never run out, wars that kill masses of civilians are an appropriate way to keep our hands on what’s left, we are not desperately overdrawn at the environmental bank, and really, the kids are all right.
One wonders where are the wisdom and the values that will help deal with the reality that is before us. An agricultural system and a weed science based on the assumed inexhaustible supply of petroleum energy to power a hugely productive agricultural system is not sustainable. We could avoid wisdom in our science as long as it was continually successful. Is it enough to say—that as long as production goes up and weeds are controlled, our disciplinary assumptions are valid? The central concept of wisdom is permanence and that is what the present system lacks (Schumacher, 1973, pp. 30–31). Present agricultural practices do not and cannot ensure future food abundance and perhaps not even an adequate supply for a growing world population. Schumacher quotes Gandhi, “Earth provides enough to satisfy every man’s need, but not enough for every man’s greed.” Permanence of our productive systems is, in Schumacher’s view, an absolute requirement for human survival. Permanence is not achieved when what were luxuries for our father’s become necessities for us (Schumacher, 1973, p. 31). The modern chemical, capital, and energy intensive weed management system that has been so successful and yielded astounding production benefits is regarded by many as a necessity, but its lack of permanence (or in the presently more popular word, sustainability)
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suggests we ought to begin to recognize that it is a passing luxury. We know the weeds will endure but we ought to reorient our thinking and research goals to develop weed management systems appropriate for an agricultural system that cannot be dependent for its productive success on diminishing or absent chemical and energy supplies. Weed scientists need to think about and develop what Professor Matt Liebman of Iowa State University calls thought intensive agriculture. His research on the management of weeds involves polyculture, natural predators, crop rotation, and significantly reduced inputs of chemicals and energy. It reverses the trend toward the simplicity of modern monocultural agriculture and incorporates the natural, desirable complexity of agriculture. His work is but one example of the changes occurring in weed science that herald a future that does not dismiss the benefits of herbicides and petroleum-based energy systems, but uses them in an integrated crop-livestock-fertility-and-knowledge-based system. It is a system that values and uses the accumulated wisdom of those who farm and explicitly values the only planet we have to support our life. It is a system of agriculture that avoids the tragic failure of the modern mind that is incapable of preventing its own destruction (see Heschel, 1962, p. xv. cited by Davis, p. 15).
References Anonymous, 1960. The nature and fate of chemicals applied to soils, plants, and animals. Agric. Res. Service of USDA. ARS 20-9, 221 pp. Bekelmann, J.E., Li, Y., Gross, C.P., 2003. Scope and impact of financial conflicts of interest in biomedical research: a systematic review. J. Am. Med. Assoc. 289, 454–465. Blumenstyk, G., 2003. The price of research. Chron. Higher Educ. 50 (10), A26–A31. Blumenthal, D., 2003. Academic–industrial relationships in the life sciences. N. Engl. J. Med. 349, 2452–2459. Carson, R., 1962. Silent Spring, 25th Anniversary Edition. Houghton Mifflin Co., Boston, MA, 368 pp. Davis, E.F., 2009. Scripture, Culture, and Agriculture: An Agrarian Reading of the Bible. Cambridge University Press, New York, NY, 234 pp. Duke, S.O., 1996. Weed science—the need and the reality. President’s message, Weed Sci. Soc. Am. Newslett. 4 and 15 and Phytoparasitica 20 (3), 183–186, 1992. Flint, M.L., van den Bosch, R., 1981. Introduction to Integrated Pest Management. Plenum Press, New York, NY, 240 pp. Havel, V., 1998. Spirit of the Earth. Resurgence (November/December), 30–31. Hayes, T.B., Collins, A., Lee, M., Mendoza, M., Noriega, N., Stuart, A.A., Vonk, A., 2002a. Hermaphroditic, demasculinized frogs after exposure to the herbicide atrazine at low ecologically relevant doses. Proc. Natl. Acad. Sci. 99 (8), 5476–5480. Hayes, T.B., Haston, K., Tsui, M., Hoang, A., Haeffele, C., Vonk, A., 2002b. Feminization of male frogs in the wild: water-borne herbicide threatens amphibian populations in parts of the United States. Nature 419, 895–896. Hayes, T.B., Haston, K., Tsui, M., Hoang, A., Haeffele, C., Vonk, A., 2003. Atrazineinduced hermaphroditism at 0.1 ppb in American leopard frogs (Rana pipiens): laboratory and field evidence. Environ. Health Perspect. 111 (4), 568–575.
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Heschel, A.J., 1962. The Prophets. Harper & Row, New York, NY pp. xviii–xix. Kiely, T., Donaldson, D., Grube, A., 2004. Pesticide industry sales and usage—2000 and 2001 market estimates. Biological and Economic Analysis Division, Office of Pesticide Programs, Office of Prevention, Pesticides, and Toxic Substances, US/EPA, Washington, DC, 33 pp. Kiesecker, J.M., 2002. Synergism between trematode infection and pesticide exposure: a link to amphibian limb deformities and in nature. Proc. Natl. Acad. Sci. 99, 9900–9904. Kingsolver, B., 2003. Foreword. In: Wirzba, N. (Ed.), The Essential Agrarian Reader: The Future of Culture, Community, and the Land. The University Press of Kentucky, Lexington, KY, 276 pp. Kunstler, J.H., 2005. The Long Emergency: Surviving the End of Oil, Climate Change, and Other Converging Catastrophes of the Twenty-First Century. Grove Press, New York, NY, 325 pp. Lesser, L.I., Ebbeling, C.B., Goozner, M., Wypij, D., Ludwig, D.S., 2007. Relationship between funding source and conclusion among nutrition-related scientific articles. PLoS Med. 4, 41–46. An on-line journal—http://www.plosmedicine.org (accessed August 2008). Moses III, H., Dorsey, E.R., Matheson, D.H., Their, S.O., 2005. Financial anatomy of biomedical research. J. Am. Med. Assoc. 294, 1333–1342. Perkins, J.H., 1982. Insects, Experts, and the Insecticide Crisis—The Quest for New Pest Management Strategies. Plenum Press, New York, NY, 304 pp. Quammen, D., 1999. Planet of weeds. In: Hoaglund, R. (Ed.), The Best American Essays 1999. Houghton Mifflin Co., New York, NY, pp. 212–233. Roberts, P., 2008. The End of Food. Houghton Mifflin Co., New York, NY 390 pp. Schumacher, E.F., 1973. Small Is Beautiful: Economics as if People Mattered. Harper & Row, New York, NY, 290 pp. Seiders, K., Deligeannis, C.C., Kinney, K., 2006. Toxic contaminants in fish tissue and surface water in freshwater environments, 2003. Environmental Assessment Program Washington State Department of Ecology, Olympia, WA. Pub. No. 06-03-019. Steeger, T., Tietge, J., 2003. White Paper on the Potential Developmental Effects of Atrazine on Amphibians. Office of Prevention, Pesticides, and Toxic Substances, Office of Pesticide Programs, Environmental Fate and Effects Division, US/EPA, Washington, DC, 95 pp. Yoon, C.K., 2002. Studies conflict on common herbicide’s effects on frogs. New York Times November 19, Sect. F, Col. 2. Zimdahl, R.L., 2006. Agriculture’s Ethical Horizon. Academic Press, Elsevier, New York, NY, 235 pp.
10 The consequences of weed science’s pattern of development A book like this does not have a simple preordained linear life. A writer begins with a certainty that the subject is important but the book has an orbital drive of its own it takes you on its own journey, and you learn along the way. Halberstam (2007)
It is common to read and ignore the warning now printed on many automobile rear view mirrors: “Objects are closer than they appear.” The warning alerts drivers that following vehicles are closer than they appear and caution is demanded. The pattern of weed science’s development outlined in previous chapters serve as a warning that the future is closer than it appears to be. The purpose of this chapter is to look ahead and examine the potential effects of weed science’s past on its future. The preceding chapters have been largely descriptive and analytical about how weed science developed, not prescriptive of how it should have developed. Having explored where we have come from and where we are it is appropriate, if not essential, to ask where are we going and how close the future we desire or fear may be. To ask the question is not to say that one knows the answer, but rather that it is an important question that needs to be asked and discussed regularly. The world’s human population has doubled in the lifetime of most practicing weed scientists. If the world is lucky and those who plan do so well, it will not double from the present 6.7 billion again, but it is projected to grow to 9 or 10 billion. Weed science and all of agricultural science has played a role in providing food for the growing world population and scientists take pride in continuing to participate in the morally good role of feeding people. Unfortunately, overweening pride is not appropriate because many in our world are not fed or fed inadequately. The consequences of 10 billion humans on the planet could be catastrophic as each strives to gain adequate food and the many other things citizens of developed societies already have in abundance. If weed scientists in developed countries turn their backs on the needs and potential wrath of the poor, many of whom are women, and the unpleasantness of a crowded world while focusing on past successes and technological dreams of future successes, catastrophic consequences that can now be seen in the rear view mirror may be close and unavoidable (sanctuary for terrorists, spread of drugs and weapons, political extremism, immigration by refugees to developed nations, and spread of disease) (see Cahill, 1995, p. 217).
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No society, no human group has ever figured out how to design the future successfully, but we must try. Designing the future requires a transition from short-term to long-term thinking. A shift from recklessness and excess to moderation and more conscious use of the precautionary principle1 (Wright, 2004, p. 131) will be essential. Changing how one thinks or what we think about is not easy but it need not be feared. There is a certain relief in change, even though it be from bad to worse; as I have found traveling in a stage coach, that it is often a comfort to shift one’s position and be bruised in a new place. Washington Irving Tales of a Traveler (1824) “To the Reader”
Evans (2002, p. 14) suggests changes in weed science thinking are fundamental to the science’s future direction. Weeds are inextricably products of ecology and psychology. Therefore, weed problems are best addressed by considering all aspects of the agro-ecosystems that produce them and the culture that informs how we farm and think. Evans suggests that recognition of this point is “potentially threatening and subversive for it challenges the very social structure of farming upon which the employment of weed scientists depends.” Weed scientists are “in effect, servants of large-scale, single-crop, commercial agriculture and if that were to disappear so too would a large proportion of their jobs.” Weed scientists, of course, know that weeds are “concomitants of agriculture and thus inevitable.” In Evans’ view, weed scientists have not explored the implications of the assumption of inevitability, because they have been constantly challenged to produce practical solutions to weed problems farmers want solved quickly. That challenge has encouraged, if not forced, U.S. weed scientists to adopt “a harsh, and at times blindly oppositional, attitude” toward each new weed problem that demanded rapid solutions. Agriculture’s weed problems seemed to become worse and more complex with each decade, if not each year. Farmers, in general, attribute the introduction and movement of weeds to factors beyond their control (e.g., the environment and plant characteristics) not to the dominant agricultural system. Farmers cite the importance of diverse and integrated management but their focus is on weed control, not weed prevention or systemic change in the weed management system (Wilson et al., 2008). In Evans’ (2002) view, the search for weed management solutions obscured the need for fundamental changes in the way agriculture is practiced. Farmers often are compelled to adopt large-scale, monocultural, commercial agricultural systems to survive. They are culpable in perpetuating an unsustainable system. The norm has been for weed scientists to enlist farmer’s cooperation to improve or modify (a new herbicide) for an agricultural system that many knew was not sustainable. The primary challenge has been 1
The essence of the precautionary principle is—if one is not sure what may happen, caution is the proper course of action. In its simplest terms it is—look before you leap.
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the weeds that were the focus of research. It should have been accompanied by thought about the way agriculture was practiced. Changing how we think about how agriculture is practiced includes thought about the research needed to change the system. Both are prerequisites to designing the future. The most “pertinent question that needs to be objectively and critically addressed is how can food production be enhanced and hunger/malnutrition eliminated while improving the environment” (Lal, 2007)? Continuing to misuse “any technology is a blunder the world cannot afford, not anymore”….and “technology without wisdom” is unacceptable to the future (Lal, 2007). A significant part of the challenge of change is the recognition that there is no alternative food production system waiting, just off-stage. Agricultural researchers and farmers (e.g., see Niman, 2009) have developed “thousands of new ideas for producing food differently” but “the public research money that is used to help bring those new ideas to market has been rapidly dwindling,2 and what funds remain are usually channeled into study of conventional agricultural practices” (Roberts, 2008, p. xxii). Even if money for alternative food production systems were available, no one knows how such a system should look. It almost surely will not be simple modifications of present systems and technologies to make them more efficient, productive, and profitable. This claim is credible because of the argument that the current system is not sustainable due to its high dependency on declining oil supplies and its harm to the environment. The system needs to change but there is little agreement on how and as it changes no one is sure the changes will ensure that the world’s people will be fed. There is growing agreement that change is necessary but little agreement on what needs to be changed or how it is to be accomplished. Weed science has been among the agricultural disciplines that has contributed to perpetuation of an unsustainable system and to environmental problems (e.g., soil and water pollution, harm to other species) and that, in Lal’s (2007) view, must change. The required change has been impeded by the lack of a strong continuum of expertise and cooperation between the basic and applied aspects of weed science. As pointed out earlier, weed science has had and still has a strong connection to the agro-chemical industry but only weak ties to the supporting basic sciences such as botany, biology, or ecology (Duke, 1996a). The reason offered for this is often that funding agencies have provided relatively little money for basic plant science research related to weed control. Thus, weed science has become, in the view of many, weed technology— wherein weed scientists develop weed management systems with which farmers can economically and safely manage weeds. These systems have saved farmers and the public many billions of dollars (Duke, 1996b) and have contributed to the great productivity of American agriculture. However, if the current chemical, energy, and capital intensive and highly productive agricultural system is extended to a world scale, its clear benefits can be anticipated but costs will also expand. The costs include the rapid consolidation of farms, damage from externalities, loss of local food traditions, 2
Some funding is available through the U.S. Dept of Agriculture’s National Research initiative.
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600
+ 110%
1965 1988–90
+ 98% + 103%
Production [mill. t]
500
400 − 6% 300 + 64% 200 + 207% + 63%
100
+ 39%
0 Rice
Wheat Barley Maize
Potatoes
Soy- Cotton Coffee beans
Figure X-1 World wide changes in production of eight principal food and cash crops from 1965 to 1988–90 (Oerke et al., 1994, p. 744).
a flood of excess calories with consequent negative effects on human health (Roberts, 2008, p. 116), and further neglect of any but the major crops. Each of the world’s major food and cash crops has seen significant increases in yield over several decades. Figure X-1 confirms this with the yield data for some major crops from 1965 to 1988–90. Losses due to weeds and other pests continue to be high in major crops (Table X-1). The actual losses due to diseases, insects, and weeds are very similar. Potential losses due to weeds are a bit higher but the essential point of the data, and of similar data used by weed scientists and available from several other sources, is that weed losses in eight of the world’s major crops are as large as those from other pests and therefore future weed research is as deserving of support as research on other pests and their control. The data in Figure X-1 and Table X-1 do not include information on yield progress or pest problems in crops such as sorghum, millet, cassava, or numerous vegetables, which are staple crops grown and consumed by poor (in the economic sense) farmers on less productive, marginal land. Similar technological breakthroughs in yield or weed management have not occurred for these crops. There has been a less dramatic or a less widespread green revolution for these crops or the people that depend upon them. A new green revolution, what Conway (1997) calls a doubly green revolution, should focus on an environmentally sustainable system that emphasizes low-cost inputs, higher returns for small-scale holdings, and minimization of risk for poor (in the economic sense) farmers. It should focus less on the major crops and more on production and weed management systems for minor crops
Crop Diseases Mill. tons
Insects %
Mill. tons
Rice
157.7
15
Wheat
103.1
12.4
77.2
Barley
24.5
10.1
21.3
Maize
79.1
10.9
Potatoes
75.9
16.3
Soybeans
Potential losses
Actual losses due to
9.0
% 21
Mill. tons
%
Diseases
Insects
%
%
Weeds %
163.3
16
20
29
34
9.3
102.5
12.3
16.7
11.3
23.9
8.8
25.8
10.6
15.2
11.0
20.9
105.6
14.5
95.1
13.1
11.7
19.1
28.8
74.7
16.1
41.2
8.9
24.4
26.4
22.8
15.9
10.4
13.0
10.5
12.7
35.3
Cotton
8,789
10.5
12,944
15.4
9,957
11.8
10.2
37.0
36.3
Coffee
1,461
14.8
1,467
14.9
1,011
10.3
25.6
22.0
21.9
12.0
16.8
21.1
28.0
Average
13.7
217.1
Weeds
12.4
13.8
19.7
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Table X-1 Losses due to pests in eight major food and cash crops. (Oerke et al., 1994, Table 3.38, Chapter 3)
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that are staples for many poor farmers on marginal land. In contrast to the present highly productive but unsustainable agricultural system to which weed science has contributed so much, a new system should recognize how dependent the present system is on oil, how much greenhouse gas it pours into the atmosphere, the subsidies it receives, the damage to local communities and migrant workers, and the neglected externalities (McKibben, 2007, p. 89). The diverse weed management systems now available for major crops work brilliantly when observed on small scales (a field, a farm) but the undesirable sideeffects noted by McKibben are quite apparent when the scale is large (a region, an ecosystem) (Engleman, 2008, p. 82). This view is consistent with the challenge to think about how agriculture is practiced and is opposed to the view expressed by much of the agricultural industry. The history of agriculture shows us that we have been very capable of subduing and dominating the earth to produce more food (Engleman, 2008, p. 95) but the ecological footprint of developed nations has increased with time. Our food may be cheap when all we notice is the price at the supermarket checkout counter but it is not when all costs are included. Therefore, a new, sustainable agricultural system should incorporate an imperative of responsibility to all humans and to the environment on which all depend (Mitcham, 1994, p. 105). More production should not be abandoned as a goal but it cannot be the only goal. The excessive magnitude of our technological power demands humility. There is an excess of power to act and a minimum of power to foresee the results and to evaluate and judge possible actions (Mitcham, 1994). Our technological power to manipulate the natural world is, to use an over-used word, awesome. Manipulation of the natural world with technological prowess inevitably changes it, often in undesirable, unsustainable ways. Only when we recognize our dependence on the stability of the natural world will we see that humility, not domination, is required. A new agricultural production system will take citizen concerns more seriously than the past has, in full recognition of the fact that this is not easy (Sterckx and Macmillan, 2006). A major concern of weed scientists is the potential reduction in use of herbicides that may lead to reduced ability to control weeds. Citizen concerns demand that reducing use of all kinds of agricultural chemicals must be done. It is clear from shifts in program emphasis in land-grant colleges of agriculture that such concerns are recognized and the quest for sustainable agricultural systems has slowly filtered into the improvement of conventional agricultural systems (Carolan, 2006). The very definition of sustainability has changed from a sole emphasis on increasing production “to feed the world” to inclusion of “social, and ecological sustainability” (Carolan). The shift in emphasis recognizes that if the way we practice agriculture is not sustainable, then our food supply is not sustainable. The risk, as change occurs, is that economic rationality (a farm must make a profit to survive) will overwhelm other aspects of sustainability and new systems will retain the industrial capital, chemical, and energy dependence of present systems. Some sustainable agricultural systems may result from improvement of present production systems but sustainability to feed the world is more likely to be achieved by abandoning conventional agricultural systems.
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Over the past 60 years due to the development and wide availability of effective, selective herbicides, weed scientists have focused their research on development of very successful, herbicide-based, management systems to control weeds in a diverse array of agricultural crops. Reducing reliance on herbicides to achieve sustainability is a desirable goal of modern weed science. There has been a gradual shift toward a holistic approach that studies weeds in complex crop and natural ecosystems with the specific intent of developing weed management strategies that simultaneously consider economic, ecological, and social factors (Upadhyaya and Blackshaw, 2007). It is a major change from present systems that in the pursuit of increased production have ignored or, at a minimum, neglected the ecological and social consequences of modern weed management techniques (Upadhyaya and Blackshaw, 2007, p. 201). Such changes involve one’s vision of the future and the recognition that our vision of the future affects today’s crucial decisions that determine what the future may be. Today’s actions include some view of the future as we expect it to be, desire it to be, or fear it may be (Harman, 1976). Weed science, similar to entomology (see Perkins, 1982, p. 164), has attempted to achieve the complementary goals of being a scientific and a useful discipline. The past dominance of chemical weed control has been both a scientific pursuit (studies of herbicide mode of action, persistence in soil, non-target effects) and an applied study of how to best use herbicides to selectively control weeds in crops. In 1993 the Cooperative State Research Service of the USDA and the Weed Science Society of America jointly sponsored a symposium on the future of weed science. There were six speakers, five of whom emphasized the desirable shift in weed science research toward greater emphasis on weed biology and ecology. It is unreasonable to claim that the symposium alone created greater interest in weed biology and ecology as the basis for development of weed management systems. But that is what happened over about the last decade as a new generation of weed scientists have begun research careers. The 1993 symposium speakers agreed that the primary purpose of weed science remained as it had been—to develop improved, more efficient, more profitable weed management systems that increased production of food and fiber. Most advocated a change of emphasis but not a change in the fundamental goals or values of weed science. The U.S. domestic research agenda was satisfactory and there was no conflict between it and the objectives of the industrial agricultural system (Carroll, 2001). There was no emphasis on the larger cultural forces that were encouraging changes in weed science and that demanded examining all aspects of the dominant agricultural systems that produce our food and fiber and the culture that informs how we farm and think (Evans, 2002). The issues raised by the symposium speakers can be framed as questions. 1. Can weed science change from energy intensive to knowledge intensive agricultural systems? 2. What are the implications and likely outcomes of moving away from monocultural agriculture to diversified (rotational cropping, inclusion of animals), integrated production systems?
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3. Are weeds inevitable in agriculture or are they products of the way agriculture is practiced? Put another way, the question might be, must we actively control weeds or can agricultural systems be developed that discourage weed presence? Another option is to ask if weed management systems can be developed so weed presence does not adversely affect crop production to a degree that warrants intervention?
Resource-intensive agricultural systems are not sustainable for two reasons (Horrigan et al., 2002): 1. Because much of what is consumed is nonrenewable resources (most notably— fossil fuels) and, 2. Some renewable resources (e.g., soil and water) are being consumed at a rate beyond the rate of natural regeneration.
For example, it takes 1,000 tons of water to produce 1 ton of grain and agriculture uses at least 70 percent of the world’s water. Much of that water is used to grow hay crops that do not directly feed people. Growing agricultural crops is the most water-intensive thing humans do and the current rate of water consumption is not sustainable. Proponents of the benefits and future potential of industrial agriculture point out that it has come to its position of dominance for several good reasons Wirzba, 2003, p. 31). 1. It is the only presently available way to feed a growing world population. 2. It has been economically successful for many and technology has determined its inevitable course. For example, weed management has become dependent on certain methods, prominently herbicides, to manage weeds. No other path is obvious. In a very real sense, there has been no other logical choice. 3. Industrial agriculture has been inspired by a combination of compassion and generosity on the part of its practitioners. Weed scientists have agreed with this claim.
The scientific method is to question such hypotheses. To ask for the supporting evidence. To ask—Is it true? As outlined in Chapter I, scientific knowledge is commonly based on facts that have been revealed by observation and direct experience of the world. Good science is often based on an empirical approach where one studies the world through experiments. Science also employs the philosophical approach known as pragmatism. The pragmatist recognizes that the world is changing and the nature of truth changes as the world changes. Concepts must be altered to be responsive to new discoveries and some concepts must be abandoned. The pragmatist tests validity by practical results. If something works, is useful, and produces productive work or results that make a real contribution to the world, it is regarded as good. If the work (the technology) is not useful, if it does not lead to positive change, then it does not pass the pragmatic test. The three reasons offered by Wirzba (2003) do not immediately pass the empirical or pragmatic test. Many assert that the present industrial system is the only way to feed the world. The proper scientific approach is to ask—is that true? What one finds is that the hypothesis has not been tested, it has been accepted. There is no doubt that the industrial model has been highly productive and economically successful for some. But, is there another logical choice? Are there other ways
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to manage weeds? We do not know because few experiments have been done. There is no doubt that weed scientists and other agricultural scientists are compassionate and generous with their talent and time. My experience affirms that. However, the benefits of modern agriculture have not been evenly distributed. The benefits, while real, have often been acquired “at an increasingly intolerable price, paid by small-scale farmers, agricultural workers, rural communities, and the environment” (IAASTD, 2009).3 The success of modern agriculture has not solved the social and environmental problems of the poor in developing countries. Agricultural scientists and weed scientists frequently claim that solving social problems is not their responsibility. However, the common claim that modern agriculture, supported by modern weed management practices, saves the world from famine is a claim of a positive social effect. Weed scientists cannot have it both ways. They cannot claim credit for saving the world from famine while denying their social role. The claim that agricultural and weed scientists do not have any obligation to solve social problems is therefore an empty one. Agriculture and weed science also cannot be excused from blame for the environmental problems they have caused or from the fact that the poor have benefitted the least from increased production. The way the world grows its food will have to change radically if agriculture is to feed the hungry, serve the poor, deal with a growing population and climate change while avoiding social breakdown and environmental collapse (IAASTD, see footnote 3). Agriculture is closely linked with these problems whether its practitioners like it or not. Its focus and the focus of weed scientists must shift or at least acknowledge the loss of biodiversity, global warming, and declining water supplies and therefore availability. The new emphasis should at least recognize and, one hopes, begin to address the needs of small farms on marginal land in diverse ecosystems. All of agriculture may be suffering from what Bateson (1972b, pp. 492–493) calls a pathology of epistemology.4 He argues that: There is an ecology of bad ideas, just as there is an ecology of weeds, and it is characteristic of the system that basic error propagates itself. When you narrow down your epistemology and act on the premise that “What interests me is me, or my organization, or my species, you chop off consideration of other loops of the loop structure.” When you have an effective enough technology so that you can really act upon your epistemological errors and can create havoc in the world in which you live, then the error is lethal.
Weed scientists have an “effective enough technology” that works well and has contributed to enormous increases in agricultural production. For example, world food production doubled from 1961 to 1994, partly due to improved weed management techniques. World grain production rose from about 3
IAASTD, 2009. Scientific facts on agriculture and development. http://www.greenfacts.org/en/ agriculture-iaastd (accessed 02.11.09). 4 My source for Bateson’s essay is a brief essay by F. Kirschenmann titled “On the Propagation of Bad Ideas” that appeared in the Leopold Letter 20 (4), 5.
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630 million tons in 1950 to about 1.8 billion tons in 1992, largely due to increased yield (Sagoff, 2000) and that is due, in part, to improved weed management. But the technology’s effects have not been debated in the context of Wirzba’s (2003) three questions to see if we harbor false assumptions about our science. Do we suffer from a pathology (a disease) of our epistemology (the nature and origin of our knowledge)? Our epistemology informs us, if we think about it, and determines how we address the questions posed by Evans (2002). Asking how we know what we know and how we use that knowledge to advance the technology of weed management in light of a growing, poorly fed world population, may reveal that we have conventional (but possibly wrong) ideas about the nature of humans and their relation to the environment (Bateson, 1972a, p. 496). The whole philosophy of weed science and of agriculture must be debated within the scientific community and the debate must take citizen concerns seriously. Thus, I return to the questions in Chapter I derived from Gauguin’s painting. Chapters III to VII describe where we have come from, Chapters VIII and IX discuss where we are. Where we are going is not certain and this chapter attempts to elucidate some of the factors that will affect weed science’s destination. There will be many who will conclude that the preceding is a distorted historical view of weed science, similar to the view of IAASTD (see footnote 3), about agriculture. The view distorts historical facts, and ignores or underemphasizes achievements. Weed science is still actively engaged in the pursuit of new herbicides but that is changing. A significant example is the increasing frequency of citation of thinkers (Baker and Stebbins, 1965; Elton, 1958) who have been foundational to invasion ecology. This is supported by weed science’s more recent study of invasive species and the advent in 2008 of the Weed Science Society’s third journal—Invasive Plant Science and Management. These initiatives were supported by the February 3, 1999 Executive Order signed by President Clinton. The order established the National Invasive Species Council5 and was a recognition by the Federal government of the importance of nonindigenous, perhaps invasive species. Some other problems and opportunities weed science is now addressing include herbicide resistance, biotechnology, sustainability, organic agriculture, and ethics. Each is briefly discussed below.
Herbicide resistance All weed scientists are aware of and paying more attention to the problem of herbicide resistance. It is possible to track and note the rate of emergence of herbicide resistance but it is unlikely weed scientists will ever be able to eliminate or conquer resistance. There are now 330 biotypes, 183 species (113 dicots and 76 monocots) in more than 300,000 fields that are resistant to one or more herbicides.6 It is clear that future farming techniques will be compelled to employ 5
Internet access is http://www.invasivespeciesinfo.gov/council/main/.shtml (accessed May 2009). One of the best sources of information on herbicide resistant weeds can be found at http://www. weedscience.org/In.aps (accessed July 2009).
6
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more diverse weed management strategies that include, if not emphasize the primacy of, biological and physical control measures as complements to chemical controls (Huggins and Reganold, 2008). Herbicide-resistant weeds are common on farms that practice no-tillage. Without tillage, farmers presently must depend on herbicides to manage weeds. Therefore, the continued, desirable success of the expanding practice of no-tillage may depend on development of new herbicides or new weed management techniques that do not depend on herbicides. Reliance on herbicides can adversely affect non-target species; contaminate air, water, and soil; and further alienate a public that is already suspicious of their use. In the short run herbicides are the best available alternative. In the long run more diverse weed management strategies will be required to avoid or lessen an increase in herbicide resistance (Huggins and Reganold, 2008).
Biotechnology Biotechnology7 allows rapid movement of diverse genetic material across previously insurmountable biological and physical boundaries to create microorganisms, plants, and animals that are desired and designed by humans, but that could not occur naturally (Middendorf et al., 1998). The world’s genetic diversity can thereby become raw material to be exploited by humans for human benefit. The market for the products of agricultural biotechnology grew from about $3 billion in 2001 to over $6 billion in 2006 and is expected to exceed $8 billion by 2011 (The Economist, 2008). The majority of biotech crops are grown in a few developed countries [U.S. 57.7, Argentina, 19.1, and Brazil, 15 million hectares (McKeown, 2009)]. In 2005, twenty-one countries had adopted genetically modified crops on more than 90 million hectares. The primary genetically modified cash crops are soybean (51 percent), corn (31 percent), cotton (13 percent), and canola (5 percent) (McKeown, 2009). The dominate traits incorporated in the crops are herbicide tolerance (63 percent) and insect resistance (18 percent) (Anonymous, 2007; McKeown, 2009; Paoletti and Pimentel, 2000; The Economist, 2003). A combination of the two traits (stacked) accounts for the other 19 percent. Proponents are optimistic because the technology is being boosted by a confluence of social, commercial, and technological forces. Europeans and some environmentalists may not like what biotechnology has wrought but its advantages to weed management are undeniable and have been and will continue to be strongly supported and incorporated into new weed management techniques. It is also undeniable that the biotech industry has been developing and selling the same two advantages for a decade: insect and herbicide resistance. Neither of these successful innovations in a few major crops has resulted in increased crop yield, except through insect or weed control, although that is promised in the future. The achievements of biotechnology are not trivial and have been accepted by weed 7
Although they are not precise synonyms, biotechnology and genetic modification will be used as synonyms.
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scientists just as the preceding plant (hybrid corn) and animal breeding techniques that created new varieties with more desirable traits or better yields were accepted by scientists and society. Consumer benefits of modern biotechnology are promised and will be developed. New, often still experimental, developments include: 1. Healthier soybean oils, especially elimination of the need for hydrogenation that produces trans-fats, 2. Improved quality of soybean proteins, 3. Increased omega—3 fatty acids in soybeans, 4. Non-allergenic soybeans, wheat, peanuts, and other crops, 5. More digestible and nutritious sorghum, 6. Enhanced vitamin A in rice, the primary dietary staple of more than 2 billion people, and improved iron content of rice, 7. Tomatoes with higher levels of lycopene, an antioxidant, 8. Better tasting tomatoes that can field ripen longer (see Pollack, 2006), 9. Higher lauric acid concentration in canola, 10. Papaya resistant to ring spot virus, which threatened to destroy Hawaii’s papaya crop in the 1950s, 11. New chemical compounds that help plants survive and thrive in soils with high salt levels, 12. Elimination or reduction of the threat of late blight of potatoes (cause of the Irish potato famine in the mid-1800s), blackleg, soft rot, and elimination or reduction of the effects of potato leaf roll virus, 13. Reduction or elimination of codling moth damage to fruit trees, and 14. Virus resistance in several crops (see Table 1 in Paoletti and Pimentel, 2000).
There are several ways to improve plant competitiveness that, if successful, will affect weed science. These include improving access to water, nutrients, and light in crops, thus making them more competitive with weeds. One of the most important, still experimental, ideas is improvement of the efficiency of photosynthesis. The principal catalyst for photosynthesis is the enzyme Ribulose-1,5-bisphosphate carboxylase (RuBisCo)—the most abundant protein in leaves and perhaps the world’s most abundant protein. It has also been described as the world’s most incompetent enzyme. RuBisCo is used in the Calvin cycle to catalyze the first major step in photosynthesis—the fixation of atmospheric carbon. Research over several decades has produced great understanding of photosynthesis but no improvement in its efficiency. That may change with genetic engineering. New contributions of biotechnology to insect resistance and animal improvement are beyond the scope of this book. Crops improved by biotechnology must also meet farmer’s demands for increased yields or higher prices and food producing companies’ demands for good (better) taste and handling properties. There may also be increased public debate because such products can be patented and that tends (it is not inevitable) to concentrate ownership of resources, drive up costs, inhibit independent research, and discourage continuation of local farming practices such as seedsaving that is important in developing countries (IAASTD, 2009, see footnote 3).
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So far, biotechnology has, increased market concentration nationally and internationally (Middendorf et al., 1998). It has not and does not show immediate promise of playing a major role in increasing world food production (Union of Concerned Scientists, 2009, p. 1). Many propose that increased food production in developing countries can best be achieved, in a sustainable fashion, by applying the principles of agro-ecology, a legitimate but relatively new area of agricultural research (Union of Concerned Scientists, 2009, p. 12). Biotechnology’s successes have focused on, but not accomplished, what agricultural research has emphasized for many years—increased production. There has been little if any emphasis on the distributional consequences of the technology. Another way to phrase the point is to ask who benefits from the technology? If the benefits are spread unevenly and the price (harm) is paid by small-scale farmers, urban and rural workers, rural communities, and the environment, the poor will suffer. They may then export their suffering in the form of immigration, revolution, and terrorism. This unintended and preventable consequence raises several important questions, including ethical ones. In addition to the legitimate concern about worsening social inequalities, the most common extrinsic8 objections to biotechnology include the questions of whether or not modified food is safe for humans to eat9 and whether or not it will harm the environment. Other objections include unintentional gene spread from modified crops and contamination of organically grown crops, development of weed and insect resistance, and unknown but possible allergic reactions. There are two primary intrinsic objections to genetically modified food or animals. The first is that it is unnatural to move genes across natural species boundaries because it violates the sanctity of species. The second, related objection is that such tampering with the natural order is tantamount to “playing God,” which humans should not do (Streiffer and Hedemann, 2005). Biotechnology has been portrayed by its advocates as a logical, inevitable direction for agricultural research (Middendorf et al., 1998). It is not. The research is, as all research is, a series of choices, each with consequences beyond the effects on production. There are always social, technical, and ethical dimensions of any scientific work and to ignore them is to ignore human and ethical as opposed to strictly scientific concerns. Justification beyond crop production and corporate growth and profit is required in a democratic society. If the way the world grows its food focuses only on the production advantages of biotechnology and ignores dealing with or rectifying distributional consequences and effects on the world’s poor and hungry its proponents must be willing to accept responsibility for social breakdown and environmental collapse (see Lappé and Bailey, 1998). Public acceptance of genetically modified foods is more than just 8
An intrinsic wrong is an act that is wrong independent of its consequences (i.e., murder), whereas an extrinsic wrong is an act that is wrong because it has bad consequences (i.e., an insult) (see Streiffer and Hedemann, 2005). 9 Whether or not genetically engineered food is safe to eat is a common concern among the general populace, but there is no scientific evidence that such food is harmful to consumers in any way.
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a scientific/technical question. Science cannot be and should not ignore competing values and interests that concern people. The science and scientists that produce the potential changes in species must remain under the control of fundamental societal values. Science is a tool, a technique, for creating choices. Those choices may be crucial to human life or they may be choices that increase benefits for some and cause harm to others. The great earth-shaking catastrophes—earthquakes, floods, hurricanes and cyclones, plagues, disease epidemics—have come from outside the human mind. Now dangers are often derived from inside the human mind—nuclear weapons, global warming, loss of species diversity and, in the minds of many, genetic engineering. These internal dangers come from increasing knowledge, or from increasing interference with natural processes (Lukacs, 2009). If weed and agricultural science are to avoid the possibility of social breakdown and environmental collapse the practicing scientists must begin to recognize and address the potential dangers of material technology and biotechnology (genetic engineering). However, a potential danger is not an actual danger. Bad things may not happen. Weed scientists may make choices that prevent dangers. But it is important to recognize that the source of the new potential dangers is not from outside, but from inside the human mind. These internal dangers stem from choices made by scientists and by those who cheer them on (Lukacs, 2009). When presenting or defending the role and potential positive contributions of biotechnology to weed science it will be important to avoid mistakes that have been made in debates over herbicide use. The three errors that have been made can be briefly summarized (see Gjerris, 2008). The first is the danger that people will talk past each other because they are discussing the matter at different levels of abstraction. Second, there is the all too common argument that those who do not agree with a point of view must be stupid and more education and information will convince them that they have been misinformed. Education is the answer even when the question has not been carefully defined. Finally, the desired dialogue is often a monologue of information designed to convince those who doubt whether they are scientific proponents or opponents that the information presented is correct and there is or is not a problem.
Sustainability An important, but often neglected, primary question in the quest for sustainability is what is to be sustained? It is common to hear the claim that small farms cannot feed the world. Therefore, agricultural industrialization, which requires “large amounts of capital, large-scale farms, chemicals, food processing, and companies like ADM and Con-Agra, is necessary to feed the world” (Orr, 2003, p. 172). The claim is that to feed the world, agricultural industrialization is necessary and because feeding the world is a good thing to do that,
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in spite of its costs, industrialization must be sustained. Orr (2003, p. 178) asks several questions to pursue the question of what must be sustained: 1. What stops us from making an effective, rapid transition from fossil fuels to efficient, renewable energy? 2. What stops us from pricing resources at their true costs? 3. What prevents us from conserving farms and open spaces? 4. By what logic do we fail to account for the costs of climate change or pollution? 5. Why do the already wealthy grow ever richer and the poor even poorer?
In Orr’s view the industrial world is not just a physical reality, it is a system of denial that prevents us from asking a complete set of questions about what is to be sustained. Weed scientists regularly make the claim that because more herbicides are used than any other pesticides, weed science deserves more support. As we enter the twenty-first century, an additional 5 to 6 billion pounds of all pesticides will be used each year, about one-quarter in the United States. A reasonable question follows: Is this environmentally and politically sustainable? If the polluter pays principle is adopted and enforced, weed scientists may be compelled to consider, and perhaps adopt, a different perspective on what is to be sustained? It may be the case that agriculture can show that its technology is both safe and protective of the environment, which will affect the sustainability debate. Weed scientists should listen to and engage in the debate. The debate will question at least four major arguments about consumption and environmental limits (Sagoff, 2000). 1. 2. 3. 4.
Is the world running out of raw materials? Is the world running out of food and timber? Is the world running out of energy? Does the north exploit the south?
Another way to think about the goal of sustainability is to ask if the limit to growth is environmentally determined or limited only by knowledge? If it is the latter, agricultural knowledge and new technology that expanding knowledge develops will resolve the sustainability dilemma. If growth is limited by the environment, more technology will not answer sustainability questions.
Organic agriculture Part of the sustainability question is the quest for weed management systems for organic agriculture, which its proponents argue is a sustainable, alternative food production system. The emphasis on industrial agriculture and its weed management needs has led to an under- or no emphasis on weed management in organic agricultural production systems. Within weed science, that is slowly changing. Much more research is being done and more information is now available on reduced herbicide use and organic approaches to weed management.
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Growth in organic food production has been dramatic over the last two decades with sales increases of up to 20 percent annually since 1990 (Winter and Davis, 2007). U.S. sales of organic products were $24.6 billion in 2008, an increase of 17 percent over 2007 (Halweil, 2006). The rapid growth is due to the public’s concern about health risks and some level of awareness of the negative environmental effects of conventional agriculture. There is increased consumer confidence in the safety and desirability of organic food. While such confidence may not be scientifically supportable, it is real. Whole Foods Market (2006), a natural food market and grocery store, conducted a survey of its customers and found they preferred to buy organic foods because they wanted to avoid genetically modified food and pesticide residues and thought the food was fresher, healthier, and more nutritious. Perhaps because of past publicity, concern about pesticide residues, although not scientifically justified, is of primary importance to Whole Foods Market’s customers. Few studies have been done to confirm the public’s concern. Baker and colleagues (2002) compared three databases and found that the occurrence of pesticide residues on organic produce to be significantly lower than on food produced in conventional agricultural systems. However, pesticide residues are not absent from all organic food. Residues of chlorinated hydrocarbon insecticides persist for many years in soil and are found in many organic foods even though they were not applied to the crop. Six to more than twenty percent of organic foods contained pesticide residues (Baker et al., 2002) but these violative residues are not of any scientifically supportable public health concern. Much of the concern about pesticide residues is their potential effects on human health. The legitimate concern about potential environmental effects of herbicide residues in water and air and pesticide effects on non-target organisms should be addressed by weed scientists. Organic agriculture purports to promote and enhance biodiversity and soil biological activity. It builds or rebuilds good soil and is based on minimal or no use of off-farm inputs, specifically pesticides, growth hormones, genetically modified organisms, chemical fertilizers, and sewage sludge (Winter and Davis, 2007). The weed management techniques of organic agriculture are based on crop rotation, tillage, and cultivation. Mulching and cover crops (often referred to as companion, non-competitive crops) are also advocated, acceptable practices for weed management. Each of these is a well-known weed management practice that has not been abandoned in modern agricultural production systems but they have been largely replaced by herbicides. In addition, the practices advocated by proponents of organic agriculture have a significant disadvantage because of the lack of adequate evaluation of their efficacy. The unresolved question is whether acceptable organic methods are simply wait-and-see techniques or if they are prophylactic methods for weed management (Guthman, 2004, p. 150). The consensus among weed scientists and organic producers is that weed management is the most difficult problem in nearly all systems of organic production. Organic production is often more costly because of the cost of labor for hand- and mechanical-weeding (Guthman, 2004, p. 160).
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Cost of weed management is a major concern but not the only one. Organic farming is not simply adherence to an accepted set of production practices. It raises questions about the scale of production, links between consumers and producers, and the desirability of a food production system based on sound ecological principles. It is regarded by many of its practitioners as a good way of life. Thus, the argument becomes philosophical as well as agronomic, which leads to an additional consequence of weed science’s development—its ethical dimension.
Ethics The ethical dimensions of agriculture have been presented by Zimdahl (2006) and others and will not be repeated here. There are several publications on agricultural ethics cited in Zimdahl (2006). Two major journals are devoted to the subject: The Journal of Agricultural and Environmental Ethics and The Journal of Agriculture and Human Values. One’s sense of moral responsibility is shaped by knowledge of the world and life experience. In this sense, doing ethics is similar to doing science. How one understands what is right and wrong, good or bad is shaped by life experiences, discussion, and critical reviews by others, just as it is in science (Traer and Stelmach, 2008, p. 10). Doing ethics requires critical discussion of arguments and claims just as science does. Discussion sharpens arguments and improves understanding of ethical issues faced by weed and agricultural science. These discussions have not been regular parts of the weed science agenda. One hopes they will become so.
References Anonymous, 2007 Experts weigh in on the status, future of agricultural biotechnology. CSA News 52 (5), 4–5. Baker, H.G., Stebbins, G.L. (Eds.), 1965. The Genetics of Colonizing Species. Academic Press, New York, NY, pp. 588. The book is the proceedings of a symposium on general biology of the International Union of Biological Science held at Asilomar, CA, in 1964. Baker, B.P., Benbrook, C.M., Groth, E., Benbrook, K.L., 2002. Pesticide residues in conventional, integrated pest management (IPM)—grown and organic foods: insights from three U.S. data sets. J. Agric. Food Chem. 51, 1237–1241. Bateson, G., 1972a. Pathologies of epistemology. In: Steps to an Ecology of Mind: Collected Essays in Anthropology, Psychiatry, Evolution, and Epistemology. Chandler Publishing Company, San Francisco, CA, pp. 486–495. 545 pp. Bateson, G., 1972b. The roots of ecological crisis. In: Steps to an Ecology of Mind: Collected Essays in Anthropology, Psychiatry, Evolution, and Epistemology. Chandler Publishing Company, San Francisco, CA, pp. 496–501. 545 pp. Cahill, T., 1995. How the Irish Saved Civilization: The Untold Story of Ireland’s Heroic Role from the Fall of Rome to the Rise of Medieval Europe. Anchor Books, New York, NY, 245 pp.
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