Partisan fires are raging in Washington. From war to children's health care, the rich histories of liberalism and conservatism grind against each other. In our pluralist society, each camp is compelled to calibrate its philosophical compass to court public approval, translating the wisdom of Thomas Paine or Edmund Burke into coherent platforms.
Such a society would be seemingly well-equipped to address pressing public policy concerns. Appeals to ideological consistency or electoral advantage should attract a phalanx of partisans rallying to the drums of conscience or opportunity. Startlingly, a financial boondoggle perseveres with bipartisan assistance, met with muted resistance as the status quo is rubberstamped again.
Many shy away from the details of sausage's journey from pork farm to dinner plate, but the real scandal is in the making of corn, cotton and sugar. The United States' farm subsidy legacy is the epitome of most things wrong in the world: environmental degradation, entrenched global and local poverty, endemic obesity, waste and abuse.
The easiest way to understand farm subsidies is to picture bundles of taxpayer money untied near an open window with fans blasting. But the biggest crime may be where those dollars land.
A comprehensive July 2, 2006 Washington Post review catalogues the many faces of waste. Since 2001, $1.3 billion in farm subsidy checks has been mailed out to people who haven't tilled a plot in their life. These annual direct payments are sent to properties that once grew rice or other favored crops years ago. But with no obligation to continue harvesting, these checks are often cashed by speculators, lucky property owners or wealthy landlords (who may evict tenant farmers, finding it more profitable to collect the subsidy money than rent).
Subsidy payments, when they do reach real farmers, are often extolled as necessary support for farmhands beset by market insecurity and meteorological sabotage. If only.
In 2007, Taxpayers for Common Sense calculated that two-thirds of farmers don't receive a dime in subsidy money, including all of those growing fruits or vegetables (the reason corn syrup-loaded junk food is cheaper than a bag of fresh carrots). Instead, with 10 percent of producers receiving over two-thirds of all subsidies, flourishing corporate giants are the real winners.
And the lush recipients of this corporate welfare know how to work the loopholes. Not only does the government guarantee price floors, but strategic use of loan deficiency payments can earn a price-support check even when crops are sold above the guaranteed price.
The livestock compensation program, created to protect ranchers from the effects of drought, has delivered $635 million to areas with adequate rainfall, according to the Post. No losses need be proven to earn the subsidy, and qualifying natural disasters have been expanded to include years-past winter snowstorms or the crash of space shuttles. When legitimate disaster does strike, farmers often receive money twice by collecting from overlapping insurance and assistance programs.
What good do farm subsidies deliver? Family farms are bought out by taxpayer-supported corporate titans; with many payments distributed according to harvest size, farmers overproduce, bulldozing forests to make room for plots; the glut of corn and other crops is often dumped in underdeveloped nations, flooding local farmers out of the market and into poverty; many protectionist policies violate trade laws, incurring a host of problems; and the opportunity cost of the billions of wasted dollars is tragic.
No sane political philosophy can accept this convoluted mess. Whether you're a fan of Dennis Kucinich or Tom Tancredo, there's plenty for everyone to hate. If you eat food, you should oppose the current Farm Bill.
Jacob Shelly is a sophomore in the School of Public Affairs and a liberal columnist for The Eagle.
