Talking dirt, a qualitative study of farmers’ soil sense
L A Lobry de Bruyn and J A Abbey
School of Rural Science and Natural Resources, Ecosystem Management,
University of New England, Armidale, NSW 2351
jabbey2@metz.une.edu.au, llobryde@metz.une.edu.au
Abstract
The goals of this study are to gain an in-depth knowledge of the beliefs and intentions of cropping farmers regarding soil health, to capture their language and to record their lived experience in caring for farmland. The farmers are located in the northwest of New South Wales. At the end of the investigation we will have developed with farmers a checklist to monitor fluxes in soil condition, which will be adaptable and adoptable for use by them. In the past, some knowledge of farmers’ levels of implementation of new technology, attitudes to the use of fertilizers and so on, has been gained by quantitative studies. Many social scientists have acknowledged the limitations of positivistic research in understanding peoples’ attitudes and how those influence their actions. Assumptions by previous studies have not taken into account the importance of farmers’ instinctive understanding of soils and this may be the reason that soil monitoring packages have not gained acceptance by farmers and are not widely used. This paper presents a study that aims to fill this gap. The journey for a scientist moving from a quantitative to qualitative paradigm will be presented, as will my efforts to ensure rigour in this research. The challenges and excitements of collecting qualitative data from farmers in an area of 84,000 km2, at the time of the worst flooding for 50 years, will be described.
The journey begins – defining the research problem.
This paper documents my personal journey of discovery of a research problem, methodology, and conceptual framework to ensure validity and relevance of the projected research outcomes. I started writing this paper thinking I would focus more on the research outcomes and ended up reflecting on my journey rather than the arrival. I will first explain how the research problem revealed itself to me.
My concern was that the accepted approach to solving environmental problems was to derive a technical solution and to transfer the solution to the end users. In a commentary by Molnar et al., they, as scientists, claim that: "For the most part, we already know how to protect the environment for the long term…What is lacking is widespread adoption of what is already known.". This type of attitude has disenfranchised farmers from the knowledge construction process and reduced their involvement in land management and problem solving to passive recipients of expertise from outside. As Cornwall et al., stated " conventional research and extension aims to produce and convey recommendations to remedy the absence of knowledge about certain processes…the process assumes that farmers are ignorant about certain elements of their practice and, therefore, renders their knowledge invisible." However the transfer of technological solutions has failed, and their failure can be largely attributed to ill-defined problem identification, disregard of local knowledge and design failure rather than adoption failure by "recalcitrant" end users.
I saw the "blame the client" syndrome being repeated in the development of sustainability indicators and protocols for monitoring land condition. There has been little adoption of science-derived indicators or protocols, with most of the information and procedures being generated by policy makers and scientists, for scientific use and government reporting, and not for use by farmers. Even though there is a strong desire by farmers to monitor their farm goals and to determine if changes in farm management are leading towards a more sustainable farming system their needs are being ignored. An easy to use and reliable checklist to monitor trends in soil health would be a demonstrable aid to achieve this understanding, especially if it was commensurate with their understanding. However, at the moment, few practical guides exist. I believe the reason for the slow take-up rate is that the soil health measures derived by scientists are not "locally relevant" to farmers. Scientists have ignored the distinctiveness of place (including the cultural, social, and ecological spaces) and they have not acknowledged that there are "multiple ways of knowing". Farmer groups, such as the Liverpool Plains Land Management Committee (located in my study region), also have been critical of research and extension efforts into sustainable land management. They feel that, in the past, scientists have treated "all farmers as a homogenous group", and they have recommended "one size fits all" solutions to environmental problems. This lack of understanding and acknowledgment of the individuality of farmers and their problems has led to questioning of "The appropriateness of extension methodologies." . Extension as defined by Röling is: "the professional communication intervention deployed by an institution to induce change in voluntary behaviours with a presumed public or collective utility".
I therefore recognised that for my project to be relevant I needed to be more inclusive and "bottom up" as demonstrated by other areas of land management, such as Landcare, adult education, extension and development programs. My concern over the marginalisation of farmers' knowledge also came from articles I had read, and my aspiration as was:…to engage in pedagogy "with, not for" farmers (Freire 1970:33), or to try "… to learn from farmers" (Chambers 1983). I have also observed what I felt was some rather "patronising" language of other scientists in relation to farmers' understanding of land management practices and their influences on soil health. On a TV program a research coordinator, for the National Soil Acidity program, told the presenter, that they had for the first time, "include(d) those directly dealing with the problem". He lamented, however, that more action was required to communicate the complex problem of soil acidity, so community awareness would be raised and more action "on the ground" would result. He realised soil acidity was a "difficult" problem to communicate to the layperson, and said:
if a layperson can’t tell the acidity or pH of the milk they drink…..they can’t do that with something they put in their mouth how can we expect our farmers to know the acidity of their soil…something they can’t see.
Implicit in this quote of the research coordinator is an assumption that farmers’ knowledge systems are deficient and they lack the skills and ability to identify problems.
The journey – the search for a conceptual framework and methodology
As a scientist I took a circuitous route to arrive at the point of deciding I was going to use a qualitative methodology to study farmers’ understanding of soil health. An earlier researcher, Douglas Romig, inspired me to develop a farmer-based soil health checklist. He had in 1993 used a "qualitative approach… to solicit and analyze farmers’ knowledge of soil health through structured interviews" to derive a farmer-based assessment of soil quality – a soil health scorecard. I too wanted to engage in a two-way rather than one-way methodology by recognising that the knowledge and skills of professional scientists can complement the skills and knowledge of those facing environmental problems such as farmers. The aim of the project was then to articulate the local knowledge of farmers on soil health and validate their appraisal techniques for assessing soil condition. I hoped to do this by capturing and using farmers’ language about soil health and to produce a soil checklist that would be trusted by farmers and relevant to them. Ultimately I wanted farmers to paint the "picture", not present them with a "masterpiece". The adoption of any checklist that would be produced was also an important facet of my research.
My belief was that the scientific method was not the most appropriate methodology or paradigm to use in this study. The scientific method as I know it is positivist, empirical and reductionist. The deficiencies of these characteristics are summarised below. Central to my argument is the connection between research paradigms and learning approaches as explained by Ross:
‘One way’ approaches to learning focus on a useful finding (such as a new agricultural practice) that should be communicated and taught to (adopted by) the audience capable of implementing it. This is sometimes referred to as the transfer of technology (TOT) approach. ‘Two-way’ theories of learning suggest that learning and communication work best interactively, so that new practices should be explored collaboratively between researchers and implementers taking account of and incorporating the implementers’ existing knowledge of understandings, interests, and ways of working. One-way perspectives expect willing adoption of established biophysical ‘facts’, and look for ‘barriers’ when adoption do with presumption of ‘facts’) and the social situation of the land managers (as ‘knowers’ and potential adopters). What formerly might have been seen as ‘adoption failures’ thus become ‘design failures’.
Firstly the positivist view of investigation encourages the world view that scientists can be dispassionate observers and that any information gained is value free and context independent. This undervalues the benefits of research methods that foster learning by those affected, and implies that the beliefs, attitudes and knowledge system of farmers are fixed and outside the realm of the researcher. I held a different view and acknowledged farmers as "autonomous generators of technology and knowledge", and wanted to involve them in my research. My view was informed by questioning the purpose and value system behind positivism and challenging the efficacy of the positivist approach to deal with the social dimensions of solving environmental problems.
The scientific method also heavily relies on quantification and is biased towards explanations that can more easily be tested quantitatively. Conversely, the scientific method tends to be biased against concepts that are harder to explain quantitatively which tend to be social, cognitive or attitudinal issues. Thus non-technical reasons for a problem are discounted, undervalued and overlooked, compared with technical reasons. Scientists who value quantification believe that those characteristics that can not be measured (rigorously) should be omitted, and think that:
We should not indulge in wishful thinking about user-friendly soil structure tests – unfortunately there is a limit to how far tests can be simplified if the results are to be repeatable and meaningful
The above quote is also characteristic of the reductionist approach to science that it seeks universal answers and does not value solutions tailored for local circumstances, and tends to ignore the impact of variation in local beliefs, language and values on findings. Hard scientists tend to discount these factors as "subjective" and instead impose their own so-called "objective" language that is presumed to apply universally.
The journey – adoption of a conceptual framework and methodology
Due to my scientific background the decision to move into another paradigm for this study involved a steep learning curve. I naively entered into the qualitative research area firmly grounded in the scientific methodological approach. That is, unless you had "numerical evidence" attained through a balanced experimental design with random, replicated samples, the data gained would be considered anecdotal and not valid. I knew, however, that a quantitative approach would not necessarily give me a comprehensive understanding of how farmers viewed soil health, the relationships and associations between soil properties as they understood them. I had, by this stage, perused many a "farmer survey" schedule of questions and felt that farmers were given little opportunity to voice their opinion, and the style of questions meant that they were simply affirming or rejecting a pre-determined set of responses. The following illustration is typical of the kind of exploration of farmer knowledge from a pre-determined agenda perspective that has limited capability to describe farmers’ understanding and how they express themselves. In the following example farmers were asked to respond to the statements as true or false a ü signifies the proportion of farmers who answered the question correctly, a ű signifies the proportion of farmers who answered the question incorrectly, and a ? signifies the proportion of farmers who did not know the answer.
| A well structured soil can be identified by: | Correct answer | ü | ű | ? |
| Dark colour & presence of organic matter | True |
84 | 7 | 9 |
| Good plant root penetration | True |
93 | 2 | 4 |
| Water run off from paddocks | False |
75 | 15 | 10 |
| Absence of hardpan layer | True |
79 | 12 | 8 |
| Low sodium levels | True |
39 | 19 | 42 |
| Waterlogging of soil | False |
87 | 5 | 8 |
Source
I felt that this type of inquiry tended to produce an answer that would confirm the researchers’ own vision of what farmers know or do not know rather than explore the range of farmers’ knowledge system. Pannell and Pannell have undertaken an overview of surveys in agricultural research and conclude that their widespread misuse or abuse leads to "poor validity of results." Hence, my decision was to use face to face interviews in this study rather than an impersonal "quick" mail survey questionnaire.
Although the scientific method (as outlined above) is still predominant in the physical sciences area the need to widen research approaches in agricultural inquiry is being acknowledged, albeit with difficulty. My own fears in moving into the qualitative paradigm were reflected in comments such as this:
disciplinary arrogance is still a fundamental constraint against inter-transdisciplinary approaches to research, in that social and institutional research is not deemed ‘real science’…. And [scientists] don’t accord this area significant weight. They seem to think that any ‘human stuff’ is easy, because it is not ‘real science’.
I too, made the mistake of thinking that qualitative research would be "easy". For example, I thought I could interview the farmers in eight weeks. It took eight months. Arranging, visiting and talking to farmers was much more involved than I first thought, and required persistence and being highly organised. Often farmers were difficult to "pin down", especially when getting them to commit to a pre-arranged meeting time for either interviews or soil testing. Having found out that the qualitative approach was complex I was still left with the question about how I was going to ensure rigour in my approach so that my hard scientific colleagues would not ridicule my methodology. For any qualitative researcher understanding our own history and prejudices before we begin is important . In a very real sense the researcher is, in Wolcott's much-quoted observation, her/his own "research instrument". It behoves all researchers to be aware of their biases. As Minichiello says:
The manner in which we gain access to knowledge and our choice of techniques for collecting evidence are directly related to our image or reality and the way we think we can know it.
Inevitably, however hard one attempts to put one's own views and ways of seeing the world to one side, the question of bias will arise. Various researchers have identified different ways of dealing with bias, introduced in the course of qualitative data collection and analysis. Koch outlines the need for careful collection of data and reflective analysis in her description of the decision trail as a way of establishing rigour in qualitative research. However, she finally states that her "own mode of thought and experience are things that cannot be eliminated" . Kleinman says "we all know the rule - examine your emotional reactions to the setting, the study, and the participants". We should begin a study by knowing who we are and why we chose to study a certain problem and population – hopefully I have.
Although the concept of "acceptability" in qualitative research is spelt out in many publications, it is clear from the daily interactions between myself, with origins as a hard scientist, and my research assistant, a qualitative researcher, that how this concept is interpreted depends very much on one’s own value system and formative experiences. As Van Maanen has described it:
qualitative methods represent a mixture of the rational, serendipitous, and intuitive in which the personal experiences of the organizational researcher are often key events to be understood and analyzed as data. …..
The serendipitous, and intuitive aspects of my experience are vital to the continuation and progress of this study, as I have mentioned or will be discussing. Cornwall et al., also points out that the way we conceptualise research problems define potential outcomes, and how we choose to reach these. Methodologies are often seen as neutral means to an end, yet the results of a study are very much informed by the approach taken. Often personal beliefs, experiences and assumptions remain unacknowledged as if science is objective and value free, even though these values systems have ramifications for the procedures and outcomes of research. One discovery I have made by undertaking this study is to confront my personal beliefs and consider how they inform my approach to research.
A decision was made that information would be most useful if collected and understood from an emic, an insiders, point of view. We both would meet the farmers on their ground and use their words. I was aware that qualitative research allows the researcher to investigate sub-cultures, to seek out links with the larger social and political environment and to tease out from the tangles of customs, values and concepts some alternative solutions. Freire’s concept of praxis was used as a conceptual framework for this study. The intellectual history of the term praxis, "provides grounding for activist, collaborative, constructive science" which accords with my values and biases (now acknowledged, but previously hidden), and the outcomes I wanted to achieve in this study. Democratic goals and involvement of participants are not the kind of images, or necessarily the values, scientists use when presenting their research. A good example, taken from a study on farm education and management, shows how defensive and apologetic qualitative researchers can be in a positivist-dominated world. At the end of the report on interview methodology the authors state: "The qualitative nature of the interview data makes it difficult to quantify and analyse statistically". In spite of experts indicating that it is not possible to undertake "research that is uncontaminated by personal and political sympathies" outlining my personally held values as part of the process of rigour does not ‘count’ in the world I live in.
How do we ensure rigour?
Chambers outlines his criteria for rigour – trustworthiness and relevance. Trustworthiness is the quality of being "believable as a representation of reality" and relevance refers to the practical utility for learning and action. He states that "the purpose of rigour is to assure quality" . In science, under the positivist paradigm, quantification, statistical validity, repeatability and objectivity define rigour. These requirements in positivist rigour result in simplification of the "objects" they are studying and "miss or misrepresent much of the complexity, diversity and dynamism of system interrelationships… In consequence, they are often not useful.".
To reassure myself that my study could be as rigorous as any positivist study, and to answer the critiques I felt would inevitably arise from my scientific colleagues, I used the following processes to engender trustworthiness and relevance:
The use of data triangulation which means seeking multiple perspectives through different methods leading to cross checking, successive approximation and/or appreciate ranges of variance was introduced to ensure that the research process was rigorous. The triangulation involved:
The research program has been organised into four phases, and I will discuss the journey so far in each of the following phases. By the end of this project we would have travelled over 25 000 kms:
Interviews – who should be interviewing and who should they speak with?
The first impasse from a "smooth ride" was the appointment of an experienced interviewer. I knew that it was crucial to find someone who could get the farmers to relax, and talk freely about their experiences and understanding of soil health. I did not want the participants to feel they were being tested on what they knew or did not know. Establishing the confidence of farmers was essential to the success of the study. There was a need for sensitivity, knowing what to say and when - and when not - to achieve this end. I wanted the interviewer to know very little about soils so, even unwittingly, she or he could not provide leading responses or give an air of ‘knowing more’ about soil health than the farmer. Hence, the farmer would be the information provider and could not expect to gain any knowledge from the interviewer. Moreover the interviewer could genuinely ask the farmer to elaborate or explain an answer in more detail without them responding "you know what I mean? Don’t you?" Eventually, I found a nurse who met these requirements, and she had just moved from the city, was well-versed in qualitative research, but unfamiliar with agricultural matters.
The next area of concern was whom were we going to talk to? How were we to ensure that the people interviewed were representative of the broader farming community? Our initial contacts for 50 farmers (mostly from north-east NSW) were obtained through contacts in NSW Agriculture who first conducted a survey in the late 1980’s for the study reported in Martin et al . When we interviewed these farmers we found that, in the main, there was an air of prosperity and success amongst them. It seems that although these farmers had originally been randomly selected by picking farms from a grid, a number of farmers (40%) had left the district, retired or dropped out of farming. In order to get representative sample, within our geographical region; we tried various other means. Our first method was randomly selecting names from an electoral roll. This, however, was very time consuming and not very fruitful. When making numerous phone calls to people to ask if they were cropping farmers, nevertheless, my research assistant found people very willing to talk and made comments such as "You might like to try Mr X up the road". We decided to take this selection method further as it accorded with our qualitative philosophy and we wanted to obtain names of farmers who were not necessarily members of local agricultural organisations (the traditional first contact for a list of addresses for survey purposes). So we talked to local organisations and members of the community who became contact sources for wheat farmers in the district. As we visited the selected properties and interviewed these farmers we could tell that our cohort was now becoming a more mixed and diverse group.
The second impasse in the "journey" occurred when the process of interviewing was halfway complete. My research assistant was in Gilgandra, western NSW, when the first of a series of major floods made the roads impassable – the journey was severely disrupted. The wet conditions over 1998 continued leaving many farms inaccessible by road. In order that the project did not come to a complete halt some farmers were contacted and interviewed using fax and phone until the floodwaters subsided. Just as we were about to get back "on the road", another major flood occurred at the end of August 1998, cutting off many farms in the north west region yet again. Hence, we continued undertaking interviews over a hands-free phone and sending faxes back and forth. When the floods did subside my research assistant who has always lived in the city had to negotiate damaged, rutted entrances to many farms - a terrifying experience for her, which the farmers could not understand at all. In fact, the research assistant’s fear-laden detailed questioning about road surfaces, and getting directions to properties to avoid flood-damaged and inaccessible routes appeared to forge trust and friendly relationships with our participants. The farmers were in an area they felt comfortable with, and the ‘outsider’ needed their help and knowledge.
Interview protocol
Apart from the interviews that were recorded over the phone, most farmers were interviewed in their homes over a two hour period. The dialogue between the farmer and interviewer was recorded and transcribed verbatim. Field notes were made later to reflect on how the interview had proceeded and the quality of the information given by the farmer. Holding onto the emotional force of what transpired from the interviews was important because it changes the force of the actual words as they appear, cold and stark, on paper. During in-depth interviews the interviewer had an interview guide consisting of core questions and a series of follow-up prompts, but the interview was essentially a conversation as recommended by experts. The intent was to draw out the interviewee's thoughts and information that they use in recognising soil health and how they apply their understanding. The interviews were intended to gain thick descriptions of farming systems, present and future problems and methods of problem identification. Farmers were asked to describe healthy and unhealthy soils and were encouraged to use the words they were comfortable with or the kind they would use when talking to other farmers.
As the interview proceeded from the more familiar subject areas to issues that we assumed were discussed less frequently we decided to break-up the interview with a value setting exercise. The value setting activity provided variety and a ‘fun’ element, allowing the second half of the interview to be more relaxed and informal when the more complex and reflective questions were asked. The "exercise" consisted of values that were considered important for a sustainable farming system, and the farmers had to rank them from most important to least important. Each major value (all capitals) had subsidiary values (lower case and alongside each major value). These values were mounted on coloured card laminated, and cut out. Farmers then ranked the major values first, followed by the subsidiary values.
PHYSICAL ENVIRONMENT – Water, Soil, Air
FOOD PRODUCTION – Quantity, Sustainability, Quality
NATURAL ENVIRONMENT – Flora, Fauna, Landscape
BASIC INCOME / PROFIT – Farm level, Regional level, National level
HEALTH /WELL BEING – Farm animals, Urban people, Rural people
EMPLOYMENT – Farm level, Regional level, National level
Farmers enjoyed the activity, were usually very thoughtful about the process, and invariably explaining in great detail their reasoning to the interviewer as they went along. It also provided lively debate if other members of the household were around. Where farmers had been hesitant to share information, this activity provided a "no knowledge, only feelings" break, an opportunity for general conversation and proved to be an effective communication bonding tool.
Soil testing, NUD*IST Analysis and Workshops
The importance of Freire’s educational philosophy was carried through to the next phase of the data analysis, and ensures the project’s desire to directly involve farmers in the research process, and engage farmers in dialogue " a two way process grounded in equality". We acknowledged that local knowledge is "intimately bound to place" by meeting farmers on their territory and conducting workshops in their local rural town. We have worked with farmers at various levels . At first this was with farmers one on one, and then later on we plan to talk to them in groups. For instance the interviews and soil testing are one on one, and the NUD*IST analysis and workshops are in districts. For the data analysis and workshops we divided the region into eight districts that have at their centre a rural town, with 8 to 10 interviewed farmers residing in a 50 km radius from the town centre. We realised that a soil health checklist would be best validated at the local level rather than deriving a generic package for the whole region, and this will be the central aim of the workshop discussions with farmers.
The following procedure was used for the soil testing at each farm. I would ask the farmer to locate what he or she believed to be a healthy soil, based on the features they had spoken about in their interview. The rationale for phrasing the question this way was not to lead the farmer, and to avoid them choosing a paddock to satisfy "my requirements". Often they would respond by saying "What do you want?", and I would repeat that the selection of the "healthy soil" paddock was their choice, and based on their understanding of soil health and not guide their selection by saying "What is your best performing paddock?"or words to that effect. Some farmers had reflected on their selection, and we would discuss their decision making process. I would also ask them about the land management history of the paddock. The farmers also located for me to sample a undisturbed site where the soil had not been cultivated, and on the same soil type – this was referred to as the control soil. The purpose of the control soil was to act as a reference point for the "good" soil, and to determine if soil condition had declined, remained stable or improved since farming. In places this meant choosing an area which may have been grazed. The purpose of the soil survey was to compare the intuitive understanding of each farmer’s vision of soil health against standard soil science procedures. This is not to say that soil science can judge the health of a soil more accurately than a farmer but to give credence to the features/characteristics that farmers use to identify a good soil. By validating their appraisal techniques we hope to include those features which identify a healthy soil in a check list which the farmer can use to consistently and more formally monitor soil condition. We do not intend to tell the farmer what levels or amounts of nutrients or % Carbon are required to maintain a healthy soil. But through the development of a checklist we hope to empower them to collect their own data and build their own trend lines to enable them to make better informed decisions on soil condition and how their management practices are impinging on soil health. I took field notes of our conversation, after the farmer had left, and these will be added to their interview data. There were also occasions when the farmer stayed with me, and helped in the soil profile sampling and description. This was also noted.
We are now in the process of analysing the interview data – building themes and interpreting farmers’ responses to our semi-structured questions. This process requires my expertise in soil science to categorise the farmer responses, and also to appreciate that the answers to our questions may be distributed throughout the interview transcript. NUD*IST allows us to code data as text units (which are farmers’ responses to a question) from any part of the interview transcript and locate it one or a number of the nodes (themes). The text units are defined by a header that clearly shows the farmer code and location, and ensure the integrity of the farmer’s voice is preserved. The interviews confirmed my view that present soil kits that are freely available are not widely used by farmers to monitor their soil conditions.
Earlier, I mentioned the importance of trustworthiness and relevance as criteria for evaluating the rigour of a project. The process of revisiting farmers after their interviews, during soil testing and in the future in workshops allows an iterative process with successive approximations (triangulation) that enhance trust, resolve ambiguities and clarify the application of the soil health checklist. At the workshop farmers will be interacting in small focus groups (about four people) adding and amending to the soil health checklist and techniques that they spoke of in their interviews. They will be involved in creating a complete and accurate picture. At the workshops, my research assistant and I will tape the deliberations of each group of farmers to avoid "selective recording and dissemination of the positive". As Chambers has observed, "rigour requires consistency in probing inquiry". We hope by inviting analysis, reflection and critical review from ourselves, farmers, and our peers that we will end the journey with a useful and viable soil health checklist that leads to action and continued learning.
Concluding comment – the arrival
The relevance of this project is also in its commitment to "getting it right", and our reflection on the potential utility of process and outcomes. It is supported by the local focus (by conducting workshops in rural centres close to the participants) and voluntary participation of individuals in the workshops. We hope that in our workshops, by generating social energy and commitment through practical relevance, we will emulate Chambers affirmation "People do it, and do it well, because they enjoy it and see a point in it".
Acknowledgments
We would like to extend our thanks to the participants of the research project and to GRDC for funding our work, as well as to Graham Marshall and Rebecca Spence for commenting on an earlier draft.