The Southland Times PUBLISHED EVERY MORNING “LUCEO NON URO.” SATURDAY, APRIL 24, 1937. New Conceptions Of Farming

Southland Times, Issue 23182, 24 April 1937, Page 6

The Southland Times PUBLISHED EVERY MORNING “LUCEO NON URO.” SATURDAY, APRIL 24, 1937. New Conceptions Of Farming

In a message from Auckland printed yesterday the principal and the agricultural instructor of the Otahuhu Technical High School were reported as expressing the view “that the tendency of farmers in their public utterances to present their vocation in its worst light and aspects was in some measure responsible for the dwindling in the numbers of boys taking agricultural instruction at high schools.” This opinion could not be taken seriously if it had not been qualified by the phrase “in some measure”; as it stands it is interesting as a commentary on present-day attitudes, not only towards farming, but towards the written and spoken word. There has grown up in modern times a strange faith in reiteration. Propaganda is the ultimate form of this belief in the efficacy of words and ideas if only they can be spoken often enough, and with a sufficient emphasis. And in countries like Germany and Italy, where propaganda carries the weight of authority, it would be quite possible to educate a generation of young men to a new conception of farming as embodying in the best manner the dignity of a whole-hearted service to the State, But New Zealanders are not yet trained to an easy acceptance of propaganda; they are somewhat slow to' kindle into enthusiasms, and are close enough to the pioneers to hold tenaciously to an independence of spirit and the right to make their own decisions. This does not mean that they escape from propaganda, for in an age that is vocal and expressive beyond all others there is a constant stream of suggestion moving through many channels upon civilized man. But in a country without great cities and with a short history which presses close to us like the farming lands in their nearness to the boundaries of our towns, it is inevitable that men should preserve something of that old resourcefulness —the worst enemy of regimented opinion—which made possible the settlement and development of these islands. Why, then, should there be so few —and these a dwindling number —in the new generation of school boys who feel any response to the nearness of the soil that is a vital factor in their environment? Is it really ■ possible that the opinions of farmers, expressed freely and with an increasing reference to politics, can be acting as a deterrent, or that a constant disparagement of the country’s basic industry by the men actually engaged in it is having its effect after many years on the youthful mind? Ideas of this kind are sometimes easy to accept because they come suddenly, and bring a new viewpoint. But a moment’s thought provides objections. The complaints of farmers are not a new phenomenon: any memory which reaches beyond a narrow circle of years will contain instances of protest and discontent under every form of government. It would be possible to go further and say that the farmers have no monopoly of this kind of thing, and that grumbling is a merely human habit, spread evenly across all sections of the community. Youth has its own buoyancy, and is not easily crushed or deterred by the pessimism of older generations. In looking for the real cause of a declining interest in farming as an occupation .for youth it is necessary to consider the strong pull exerted on young imaginations by the opportunities and incentives of a machine age: There was a time when a struggle with the soil of a new country was enacted amid circumstances which gave it the colour of adventure and appealed to the best instincts of young manhood. But now there are new adventures: in a world coming more and more closely under the influence of machines it should not be surprising that young men are seeking careers in radio and engineering. For a parallel case it is not necessary to go past the problem now confronting the military authorities in Britain. At a time when it is becoming almost impossible to recruit the infantry to its proper strength, there is an embarrassment of numbers offering for the Royal Air Force. It is the new adventure that attracts the young, and perhaps it is foolish to look for anything else. In the meantime, however, there remains the problem of the land. Ways must be found of attracting suitable types of young men to take up farming as a career. Perhaps the machine age will provide its own solution; there is a possibility that as agriculture comes to be planned and centralized the work of preparing the land and sowing the crops will be done by young men who are engineers or mechanics rather than farmers: the installation of the tractor stations in Russia may some day prove to have been the beginning of a new method, subject to modification in response to

local requirements, but none the less spreading across the world. In New Zealand, however, these measures could solve only part of the problem: the mountain ranges have a way of dwarfing all thoughts of machines i to the dimensions of a dream, and the care of animals will always call for a special training and a close contact with the soil.* We have already suggested that the shortage of farm labour could be overcome if suitable young men were given the opportunity to qualify themselves for positions of responsibility, if not of ownership, on the land; and it is not too much to say that the scarcity of labour and the shortage of young farmers are two phases of a single problem. It is idle to talk of the dignity of farming, even with the loud voices of propaganda, until a more reasonable proportion of those who are now working on the land can be allowed to feel that it is a dignity within the reach of conscientious effort. This is a truth implicit in the changing conditions of farming in New Zealand.