James McWilliams is a historian at Texas State University and author of the new book “Just Food: Where Locavores Get It Wrong and How We Can Truly Eat Responsibly”. (Yes, that is a hackle-raising subtitle, especially if you are a devout locavore, which some of us are not.) McWilliams has turned up on this blog before, both concerning locavorism and his purchase of a homeless man’s cardboard sign. This is his first of a series of guest posts on farmers’ markets.
Do Farmers’ Markets Really Strengthen Local Communities?
Part One
by James McWilliams
A Guest Post
For several years now I’ve been arguing that buying locally produced food doesn’t necessarily lower one’s carbon footprint. “Are we about to witness fistfights over the price of baby arugula?”
For some reason, though, this response falls flat. Sure, on an intuitive level, the claim makes perfect sense. Milling around the farmers’ market with like-minded foodies, buying fresh produce grown on nearby small farms, listening to local musicians play local songs, and supporting a variety of homegrown artisans certainly qualifies as an enriching community experience. But can we say with any assurance beyond anecdotal evidence that the thousands of farmers’ markets established over the last twenty years have brought together communities across the United States? If so, how? And for whom?
Markets encompass a wide range of experiences. For me, primarily because I don’t view the farmers’ market as a venue to nurture community bonds, my transactions tend to be as personal or impersonal as if I were shopping at a generic grocery store. Don’t get me wrong — I respect my local farmers very much. Still, I approach their stalls not to get to know them, but to buy the excellent food they sell.
Many of my more extroverted friends wouldn’t care if their farmer-friend was hawking shriveled turnips dusted in cow dung. They’re there to have a social experience. Their aim is to personalize shopping in a way unachievable at Wal-Mart. In this sense, I suppose, a farmers’ market can foster community ties in the ways conventional grocery stores cannot.
But even so, something is missing. Most notably, I don’t see how community cohesion necessarily follows the fact that one can, if one wants, interact with the person who grew your food. Historically, such personalized economic transactions were the norm, but they were inherently fraught with risk and tension. In colonial America — a place I’ve studied in some depth — all markets were initially driven by face-to-face interaction. It should come as no surprise that things could get, well, personal. Markets were intensely competitive and exclusive. Everyone knew everyone. And that was often the problem. The court records of colonial New England are replete with personal market transactions gone awry.
When merchant-led expansion fostered systematic trade with distant markets, the nature of local trade changed. Mediators entered the scene. The supply chain lengthened. The personal nature of exchange yielded to standardized norms required by middle men who had only a tenuous connection to the products for sale. Impersonal mediators and distant institutions (such as banks and insurance companies) ultimately diffused face-to-face interactions by placing a buffer between buyers and sellers. Markets became larger and less personal. Neighbors became customers. Legal battles continued apace, but they were not personal. Just business.
Today, as we return to local markets (farmers’ markets have grown from 400 in 1970 to over 4,000 today), who is to say that the novelty of personal exchange will not gradually fade? Who is to say that the mystique of the local farmer will not diminish and that we’ll eventually come to realize that what we’re engaging in at the farmers’ market is, no matter what the perceived social benefits, ultimately an economic experience? Are we about to witness fistfights over the price of baby arugula? Probably not. But if we did, there’d be a historical precedent for it.

When the local farmer can capture a “retail” price directly from the consumer without supporting globo-capitalism, that’s a win-win for me: Helps the small farmer survive, takes some money away from “shareholders.” To me, that’s the point – it’s not social and it’s not about my carbon footprint. Oh, and it’s fresh.
The transactions are impersonal because you happily accept the terms. But if the farmer announced that this was their last week with a stall because [insert calamity/hardship here], what would your reaction be or the reaction of the consumers at the market? What if he announced he had to raise the price of his arugula?
These are the kinds of issues that make the interactions personal. Your reaction to his news potentially is a lot different than if Walmart stopped carrying arugula at the prices you expect.
I buy locally because I care about how my food is produced, and buying locally is one way I can confirm it. I think how my food is produced is important for my health, the health of my family, and the health of the planet. How hard is that to understand?
I think people like Artemis (comment #1) miss a fairly important point.
Sure, you could take away all of the supply chains and intermediaries and just deal directly with the manufacturers of things [food, TVs, whatever]; but even disregarding the issue of distribution [certainly while a few people can utilize farmers' markets, it's impossibly inefficient for everyone or even very many people to do so], if you did away with global retail and distribution chains, what exactly would people do for a living? Such a high percentage of people earn their livings working in the midst of that ‘globo-capitalism’, not just shareholders, but employees, that if we did go to a direct-sale system and somehow made it work, you’d just end up with mass unemployment…
I guess we have to wait for part two to get to a point …
As a small farmer in the Midwest, I have no choice but to sell my food at a farmers market, or to a local restaurant or some other vehicle that is “local”. Walmart, etc do not purchase from local producers. Also, I do not (and don’t want to) grow food that can be transported 2000 miles.
You say, “I respect my local farmers very much” and how is that? You respect them, just do not want them to sell anything? Nice.
Waiting for part two ….
In my area we have one large farmer’s market downtown that has all the “community” features you describe and then there is another one further down the road that has many of the same farmers represented but none of the peripherals. I MUCH prefer the latter. Prices are a bit lower, produce is just as abundant, but I don’t have to put up with all the strollers, musicians, vendors, household pets, etc. Impersonal, but direct economic transactions is my way to go. Thanks for the useful discussion and giving me the chance to voice my opposition to our big downtown market.
Face-to-face interactions between producers and consumers fosters, among other things, a commitment on the producers’ part to provide the highest quality product. Think of all the food recalls we have had recently. Does a Midwestern slaughterhouse owner have any personal involvement or shame if consumers die from e coli-tainted meat? No, it’s an unfortunate business problem. However, the farmer who sells his product directly to the buyer, knows their face and maybe their name, has a totally different relationship. It’s a relationship based on community ties, where what we do has a direct impact on those around us.
If I can cut Whole Foods OR Wal-Mart out of the deal and know that the farmer/grower is getting the money, then it works for me.