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On Scientific Ignorance

Consumers are often woefully ignorant of basic facts about food and agriculture.  For example, in this paper I published with Brandon McFadden, we report multiple lines of evidence that most people know very little about genetically engineered food.  When scientific names are used for food ingredients (e.g., sodium chloride instead of salt), perceptions of naturalness and safety substantially decline.  A typical response to these sorts of findings is, "we need to spend more on consumer education." Such a statement is an implicit endorsement of the knowledge deficit model - it is a view that "experts" convey the information, consumers accept it and update their beliefs accordingly.

Dan Kahan's work on cultural cognition had gone a long way toward dismantling the knowledge-deficit model of how consumers change opinions.  His work shows that "more education" doesn't necessarily lead to convergent beliefs; rather, it seems we filter information through our group identities.  I recently ran across a book chapter Kahan wrote, and thought I'd share the abstract as it does a good job describing why consumers (and scientists) may not be fully informed and how we might change their minds on controversial issues.

It is impossible to make sense of persistent controversy over certain forms of decision-relevant science without understanding what happens in the vastly greater number of cases in which members of the public converge on the best available evidence without misadventure. In order to live well — or just to live, period — individuals must make use of much more scientific information than any (including a scientist) is in a position to comprehend or verify for him- or herself. They achieve this feat not by acquiring even a rudimentary level of expertise in any of the myriad forms of science essential to their well-being but rather by becoming experts at recognizing what science knows — at identifying who knows what about what, at distinguishing the currency of genuine scientific understanding from the multiplicity of counterfeit alternatives. Their rational recognition of valid science, moreover, is guided by recourse to cues that pervade their everyday interactions with other non-experts, whose own behavior convincingly vouches for the reliability of whatever scientific knowledge their own actions depend on. Cases of persistent controversy over decision-relevance science don’t stem from defects in public science comprehension; they are not a result of the failure of scientists to clearly communicate their own technical knowledge; nor are they convincingly attributable to orchestrated deception, as treacherous as such behavior genuinely is. Rather such disputes are a consequence of one or another form of disruption to the system of conventions that normally enable individuals to recognize valid science despite their inability to understand it. To preempt such disruptions and to repair them when they occur, science must form a complete understanding of the ordinary processes of science recognition, and democratic societies must organize themselves to use what science knows about how ordinary members of the public come to recognize what is known to science.

Is Food Waste Really Such a Waste?

That's the question Marc Bellemare asks in an article in the Wall Street Journal yesterday.  The subtitle points out an important truth that likely seems counter intuitive to the masses, "The optimal amount of waste is not zero."  Note, Marc doesn't say food waste isn't a potential problem or that we ought not think about ways of reducing waste.  Rather, let's not be wasteful in trying to prevent waste.  That is, we could end up expending more resources to save food than we reap in benefits, which of course is wasteful.  

Here are a couple key paragraphs:

Moreover, the optimal amount of food waste is not zero. Even the most efficient supply chain isn’t frictionless. If you are like me, your purchases of fresh fruits and vegetables more often than not reflect how you’d like to eat rather than how you actually eat. When you go out for dinner, you might end up not liking your meal, or you might order too much and not bring the leftovers home. Some of these issues may be solvable in theory, but the closer we get to zero waste, the more expensive trying to eliminate waste altogether would become.

This is especially important to understand given that “saving” edible food from going to waste is not the same thing as sending it to feed the hungry. Popular discussions often seem to implicitly assume that wasted food could be somehow reallocated to feed the poor at little to no cost. But if lower levels of food waste have any positive effect on food security, it’s far from obvious. The U.N. says that the 5.9 billion people who live in developing countries and the 1.2 billion in industrialized ones waste roughly the same amount of food—about 715 million tons a year. As food becomes an increasingly small fraction of a household’s budget, wasting food becomes cheaper relative to other expenditures.

The article covers some of the the same issues Marc and colleagues addressed in their academic article in the American Journal of Agricultural Economics.

Labeling Food Processes: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

That's the title of an interesting new article in the journal Applied Economic Perspectives and Policy by Kent Messer, Marco Costanigro, and Harry Kaiser.  Here's the abstract:

Consumers are increasingly exposed to labels communicating specific processing aspects of food production, and recent state and federal legislation in the United States has called for making some of these labels mandatory. This article reviews the literature in this area and identifies the positive and negative aspects of labeling food processes. The good parts are that, under appropriate third-party or governmental oversight, process labels can effectively bridge the informational gap between producers and consumers, satisfy consumer demand for broader and more stringent quality assurance criteria, and ultimately create value for both consumers and producers. Despite the appeal of the “Consumer Right to Know” slogan, process labeling also can have serious unintentional consequences. The bad parts are that consumers can misinterpret these labels and thus misalign their personal preferences and their actual food purchases. The ugly parts are that these labels can stigmatize food produced with conventional processes even when there is no scientific evidence that they cause harm, or even that it is compositionally any different. Based on this review of the literature, we provide three policy recommendations: (i) mandatory labeling of food processes should occur only in situations in which the product has been scientifically demonstrated to harm human health; (ii) governments should not impose bans on process labels because this approach goes against the general desire of consumers to know about and have control over the food they are eating, and it can undermine consumer trust of the agricultural sector; and (iii) a prudent policy approach is to encourage voluntary process labeling, perhaps using smart phone technology similar to that proposed in 2016 federal legislation related to foods containing ingredients that were genetically engineered.

Technology and evolving supply chains in the beef and pork industries

That's the title of a new article in Food Policy written by Josh Maples, Darrell Peel, and me.  The paper will ultimately be part of a special issue on technology and supply chains. 

Here is part of the lead in.

The structural shifts in the beef and pork industries have occurred alongside (and perhaps because of) technological innovation and its effect on the flow of these meats through their respective supply chains. Technology innovations have been a major factor in the changing economics of the beef and pork industries. Improved nutrition, growth promotion technologies, better genetics, and economic conditions have all played a role in livestock becoming more efficient (Lusk, 2013). The values of improved technologies between 1977 and 2012 in the beef and pork sectors have been estimated at $11 billion annually and $7.6 billion annually, respectively (Lusk, 2013).

We discuss the nature and causes of different market structure in the beef and pork industries.

Even with the presence of marketing agreements, the beef industry is easily the least vertically integrated of the big three protein industries (Ward, 1997). The key reasons for this revolve around the aforementioned asset specificity as well as the biological makeup of cattle. There is a greater incentive to vertically integrate or engage in contracting in livestock industries in which genetic changes can be made more rapidly (Ward, 1997). The biological production cycle is about two years for cattle, which is twice as long as that of hogs and the genetic base of cattle is relatively diverse and is not narrowing (Ward, 1997). Alternatively, market coordination has allowed the pork industry genetic base to narrow toward the most efficient hogs for production. The number of hogs marketed today is 29 percent greater than in 1959 from a breeding stock that is 39 percent smaller (Boyd and Cady, 2012). Geographical concentration also plays an important role. During the cow-calf stage, cattle are scattered throughout the U.S. due to the required land and forage needed while hog production is centered in the Midwest (and more recently the Southeast) near the heaviest corn-producing states. These factors create significant barriers to integration in the beef industry.

And, we discuss the impacts of various technologies on the industries.  Here's a segment on effects of pharmaceutical innovations in the cattle industry.

Vaccinations, parasite control, ionophores, antibiotics, growth promotant implants (often referred to as growth-promoting hormones), and beta-agonists have been the most widely-used of these innovations (Arita et al., 2014 ; APHIS, 2013). The productivity and economic impacts of these technologies are large. Lawrence and Ibarburu (2007) estimated that the cumulative direct cost savings of the technologies was over $360 per head for cattle over the lifetime of an animal while Capper and Hayes (2012) estimated that the increased cost of U.S. beef production without growth enhancing technologies would be the equivalent of an 8.2 percent tax on beef. Elam and Preston (2004) discussed each of these technologies at length in their summary of the technological impact in the beef industry. They found that growth implants increase rate of gain by 15–20 percent and improve feed efficiency 8–12 percent. Growth-promoting hormone implants are believed to be used on approximately 90 percent of cattle in U.S. feedlots (Johnson, 2015). Elam and Preston (2004) also found ionophores increase average daily gain by 1–6 percent and improve feed efficiency by 6–8 percent. Lawrence and Ibarburu (2007) used a meta-analysis approach to find estimates for the farm level economic value of these five technologies in the beef industry. They estimated that beta agonists improve feedlot average daily gain by 14 percent and that the combination of implants, ionophores, antibiotics and beta-agonists account for a 37 percent increase in average daily gain in feedlots. These increases in feed and gain efficiency have direct effects on the profitability per animal. Lawrence and Ibarburu (2007) estimated that sub-therapeutic antibiotics impact cattle profitability by $5.86 per head, ionophores have an $11–$13 impact, and the use beta-agonists impacts per head profitability by $13.02 per head. The use of growth promoting implants has the largest impact on cattle profitability at between $68 and $77 per head ( Lawrence and Ibarburu, 2007; Wileman et al., 2009).

Testing Public Knowledge about Food and Agriculture

Kudos to Bailey Norwood and Susan Murray at Oklahoma State who have keep the Food Demand Survey (FooDS) alive and well.  In the August 2017 edition of FooDS, they asked a series of questions related to consumers knowledge about food.  The results are fascinating.  

First, they sought to weigh in on the claim that went viral last month: that 7% of consumers thought chocolate milk came from brown cows.  In this month's FooDS, they found only 1.6% of the American public held this belief when given various options for how chocolate milk is made.

Read the whole report for more interesting findings, such as:

  • 23% of respondents thought gluten as a preservative or additive to make bread whiter;
  • 79% correctly knew how soy milk is made;
  • 18% think the sun revolves around the earth (yes, you read that right);
  • 95%+ correctly identified broccoli as a vegetable and beef as coming from cows;
  • only 28% correctly knew that Trump likes his steaks well done (a plurality thought he likes it medium rare);
  • 15% thought I was the secretary of agriculture (no I didn't put them up to this; Sonny Perdue was picked by 37% of respondents and Michael Pollan by 29%)
  • 99% of respondents said they took their answers to the previous questions seriously.