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| Illustrations/Tables | p. xi |
| Acknowledgments | p. xiii |
| Foreword | p. xv |
| Introduction: Forward to Nature | p. 3 |
| Exercise: Sustainability Assessment | p. 16 |
| Ground Condition | p. 19 |
| Exercise: Ground Condition Test | p. 27 |
| Exercise: Know Your Ground | p. 40 |
| Natural Energy | p. 43 |
| Exercise: The Personal Energy Audit | p. 61 |
| Composting Waste | p. 65 |
| Organic Synergy | p. 83 |
| Riding the Cycles | p. 105 |
| Exercise: Cultivation Cycle Survey | p. 115 |
| Exercise: Working Rhythms Checklist | p. 119 |
| Resilience through Diversity | p. 127 |
| Exercise: Diversity by Design | p. 136 |
| Real Quality | p. 141 |
| Exercise: Real Quality Queries | p. 154 |
| Going Organic | p. 157 |
| The Organic Growth Tool Kit | p. 171 |
| The Natural System | p. 183 |
| Epilogue: A Healing Crisis | p. 203 |
| Resources | p. 211 |
| Index | p. 215 |
| Table of Contents provided by Syndetics. All Rights Reserved. |
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Chapter One
Ground
Condition
For the organic grower, the earth is what you start with. Ground condition, or soil quality, remains the barometer of the state of your productive system. Organic growers know that soil is the powerhouse of their business. It may be the crops that earn the money, but the ground condition is the asset that creates them and supports future production. The earth is both a vital input and a vital process in producing the desired output. Ground that's in good condition actually manufactures fertility--from the life within it, from waste, and from the nutrients in the earth, air, and water.
The basic principle of ground condition is that you can only achieve sustainable results by cultivating the underlying fertility, the resources from which output grows naturally. This principle applies equally to crops and to people. The earth is a living organism that, when treated organically, can renew its own potential and keep producing. A human being is a living organism, too, and we can cultivate our productivity by the same principles. This contrasts with the approach in most work cultures and on conventional farms, where output depends on external pressures, and ground condition is depleted, not renewed. Truly, the way the ground operates naturally as a productive ecosystem has specific lessons we can apply in the human world.
* * *
Learning from Nature
The concept of the four elements--earth, water, air, and fire--forming the basis of all living matter is an ancient one. (The four elements are explored in more depth in Chapter 2.) Whether we're considering a person or a garden, it is these elements that interact to create fertile ground condition.
Earth. The soil is the growth medium; it provides the physical setting in which all the elements that are required for fertility combine. In people, the earth element relates to our physical body and physical energy.
Water. Water is essential to the whole process of growth. Water carries nutrients from the earth through the root system to provide the material for the plant's expansion. In human nature, water represents the emotional, feeling element. Too much or too little water stifles productivity. If we suppress all feelings in relation to our work, we are likely to be arid--uncreative and unable to relate fully and productively with others. Conversely, if we let ourselves be swamped by emotion, we are like waterlogged soil, and the crops will rot. On the farm or in the garden, physical soil structure, air circulation, and warmth enable water to play its role, and this balanced system has analogies in the human field.
Air. Air is vital as an enabler and a fuel for growth. Ground in good condition is about 25 percent air, and thanks to this air, heat and water can circulate and interact productively with the earth. The nitrogen in air also makes it an important source of fertility. Soil and plants breathe and need air to sustain life, just as we do. In human nature, air equates to inspiration, spiritual energy--the word inspiration literally means breathing in.
Fire. The sun's heat is essential to maintain ground condition and generate plant growth. The fire element in the human system is mental energy. It's fast-moving and fast-changing, and it can kindle and fuel growth, but it can dry up growth if taken to excess. For both people and gardens, the fire element needs to be managed carefully; it has to be balanced with the other elements and matched with crops that can use it well.
The Soil Ecosystem
The earth element in the soil has two main components: mineral matter and organic matter (see the diagram below). Although organic matter, humus, makes up only a small amount of the soil, it is central to the soil's productivity. Humus promotes biological activity throughout the earth and enables conversion of inert minerals into nutrients that are usable by the plant. It is also a key to soil structure, enabling the different elements to combine productively. I see the human equivalent of humus as vitality, or what the Chinese call chi , life energy. A person with high vitality has naturally high resilience and productivity, just like fertile ground.
The earth, water, and air elements combine with the fourth element, fire (heat), to form the soil ecosystem: a living organism that is both productive and self-renewing. It is inspiring to realize that the earth truly is a living system. Every square yard of organic earth teems with a variety of life that interacts to make the soil a productive, resilient organism. The U.S. Department of Agriculture, in its definition of organic farming, says that "the concept of the soil as a living system that develops the activities of beneficial organisms is central to this definition." In Organic Farming and Growing , Francis Blake says, "the number of micro-organisms (principally bacteria and fungi) in one small teaspoonful of soil is greater than the total number of people who have ever lived on this earth."
There are clear parallels between the earth and the human being as living organisms of extraordinary and effective complexity. To understand and control this complexity completely is impossible and unnecessary because if you cultivate your ground condition on the principles of sustainability, you won't need to manage all the details.
To apply this analogy to human productivity, we don't need to go into the details of how this ecosystem works. For our purposes, it's relevant to know the main features of good ground condition and how to cultivate them. These features include having healthy soil structure, building fertility, and knowing how to manage different soil types, which equate to different temperaments in human nature.
Man and Machine
What image comes to mind when you think of a system ? For many people, it's a machine: a computer, a refrigerator, an oil refinery. These are essentially mechanical systems, in which a specific input will consistently yield a predictable output. We've been blessed with many of these systems, and they give us predictable results with ever-higher reliability (see the table "Differences between Natural and Mechanical Systems," below.) But they mislead us about the way natural systems operate.
When you picture a natural system, perhaps you see an ecosystem such as a rain forest or a weather system, in which elements are causally connected but the outcomes are unpredictable and chaotic. Of course, a human being is a natural system, even though many of us treat ourselves like machines and our culture promotes this idea.
You may have a clear picture of some of the inputs--such as food, water, and shelter--you need for your own system. What about inputs directly relating to your work and to you as a productive system? Because we associate productive work with mechanical systems, we often expect ourselves to produce without inputs and maintenance. We don't have to make our own electricity, so why do we need to fuel our work? This is the issue that Stephen Covey describes as P/PC balance: the need to consider both production and production capacity.
Ecologists identify ecosystems according to three broad categories: developed, natural, and cultivated. Developed systems are essentially man-made, such as towns or suburban areas. Natural systems are primarily wild, not intensively managed by people, and include marshlands and ancient forests. Cultivated systems are natural habitats shaped and managed by people for an economically productive purpose, such as farming. Cultivated natural systems are the ones that offer the best model for people at work.
Work is not just letting nature take its course, leaving it wild; nor is it centered on man-made resources. Work is centered on people; it involves taking nature as the basis and working with it to achieve your aims. Cultivating ground condition is the foundation of this approach.
Cultivating Ground Condition
Steve Worowski looked like a withered stick when I first met him--not what you'd expect from a 31-year-old with an M.B.A. I was the newly appointed sales and marketing director. Steve, as marketing manager, was my potential number two.
Dick Belton, my boss, had already warned me: "Steve's got promise, but he's your biggest problem. The guy's demotivated, and I don't want it spreading." I liked Steve, but he was hard to reach. It was in his body language: His chair was pushed hard against the back wall of his cluttered office, defensively facing the door, his head was at an angle, his shoulders were turned in, and he rarely looked at anyone directly. His whole body seemed twisted, dry, airless, stiff.
Our company was part of a much larger group that had a reputation as a progressive, well-managed organization, but in reality, it was more backward. I had joined with an impatient desire to soon be a vice president. All of my military-hero circuits lit up at the sight of Steve. I thought of El Alamein, the turning point in the North African campaigns of the World War II. If I could break through with Steve, I'd be in Tripoli within a week: I'd double my own effectiveness in one move. So I attempted to bounce him into action, smacking into him with the intensity of my will, painting the big picture, setting tough deadlines for him to meet, aiming to fire up his management reflexes. All of these attempts fell on barren ground; nothing took root.
I tried to spark him up with shared enthusiasm, dangling the carrot of our joint triumph and his prospects of succeeding me upon my early promotion. He listened without response, as if this were some alien language, not the shared mythology of a fellow M.B.A. So I switched my approach to the stick, telling him that I wanted to get things moving fast, and I'd have to question his position if he couldn't respond. He seemed indifferent, as if he really wouldn't care if I fired him. Dick, my boss, was even more impatient than I was. Within a fortnight he was jabbing at me for signs of progress. It was embarrassing; what kind of a whiz kid was I if I couldn't turn around someone with Steve's talent?
Clearly, I was going wrong with Steve. I was treating him like a mechanical system. I tried to use him like a machine, a tool, a vehicle to move me toward my output goals. It was only when my simplistic input-output mindset failed that I was forced to see Steve as a person and to cultivate him as a natural system.
You Don't Just Add Water
My intuition told me that this was a deep problem, that it was almost insulting Steve to try the quick-fix methods I had begun with. I sensed he had a genius for implementation that would complement my passion for big ideas, so I persisted. He was like a formerly fertile soil after years of drought. You can't just add water to this type of soil; you have to recondition the whole ground structure.
An organic farmer would never grow wheat on one field for four years in a row. He would know that the crop yield would be poor and the soil would be exhausted. This is what happened to Steve. In his previous company he drove himself hard throughout his 20s, and at 28 he was invited to step up from marketing manager to general manager. It was a business with a great brand name, but it was a mess in every other respect.
Steve grabbed at a chance that was too much too soon for him. Within a year he had gone from feeling fired up to being burned out. Neither he nor the business performed well, and he was left feeling bitter and depleted, with his self-confidence withered.
Moving to a marketing manager position with a larger corporation had looked like a sensible sideways step, a semi-fallow season to renew his fertility--but it turned out to be another setback. My predecessor had become disillusioned with the whole business world, and he had dumped his cynicism on Steve like acid rain during the year before he left. Steve had hoped he would succeed my predecessor, but he knew he was in no condition to do so. He was dried up, as barren as baked mud.
After several weeks of getting more and more wound up, I had to accept that my irresistible force had met an immovable object. I couldn't impose the effect that I wanted on Steve, so I turned my raw, impatient energy to the sales force, where there were some quick wins to keep the boss off my back. I still had a clear vision of how Steve could be, but I had no sense of how to make it happen.
The Recovery Cycle
I used to seek Steve out at the end of the afternoon and sit in his office, telling him about my ideas and enthusiasms, hoping that my own inspiration would gradually revive him, breathe some air into him. I also made a point of appreciating him--for what he was, for qualities such as clarity and straight talking, not for achievement. I sensed that if I tried to force output from him, Steve would close up completely, whereas if he felt warmly valued, with no instant return expected, he would start to open up like a field ready for sowing. Gradually, trust and empathy developed between us.
A few months later, Steve and I were working very well together. We had a direct and effective dialogue; he shaped and sparked my ideas, and I did the same for his implementation. He had forced me to learn a principle that I apply now in any working relationship, even with seemingly compliant people: I don't get sustainable results or the full picture by imposing my will; I need to leave space to hear the other person and to collaborate.
After a year of working together, I appointed Steve as one of three regional managers responsible for a sales force of 80 people. He was cerebral in his approach, and marketing work had reinforced this. Sales management drew him into the feeling side of his nature, as well as the physical, practical side. He had new ways to grow and to develop qualities he had been neglecting, which is similar to the way a farmer develops specific qualities in the soil by planting certain crops. A year later I was promoted, and Steve succeeded me. He did well as marketing and sales director and was later promoted to a managing director position.
The 4 Elements
Although I wasn't using the Natural Advantage model when I worked with Steve Worowski, this model fits with the successful approach I evolved. When we first met, his ground condition was very poor. His organic content--his creativity, motivation, and initiative--was low. His soil depth was good, so his potential was high, but the soil structure was awful, what a farmer would call compacted. When soil is compacted, it has been squashed down; there is little air content, and it has no openness, so the ingredients for growth can't get in. It takes time, patience, and persistent effort to help closed ground open up, as I eventually realized.
With Steve, I took off the pressure for big thinking and a high level of output. Letting him work on the smaller issues was like growing a restorative, undemanding crop on a field. Spending time hanging out with him was similar to using an aerating roller to open up the soil. Gradually he started to absorb appreciation and inspiration, like sunlight and air, and the momentum and vitality of his natural system revived. Steve's soil type, like mine, is basically sandy. His inherent reserves are low, but he can be highly productive given good inputs of fertility. When he and I started working well together, we developed habits that raised both our fertility and our output.
Steve's main assets were his physical and mental energy, which equate to the earth and fire elements, but his approach had left him physically drained, feeling like earth that has had its fertility exhausted. His overuse of fiery mental energy had left him dried up and burned out. Steve's ambition had drawn him to a high-pressure job in a struggling company, and you could say he'd given it everything he'd had, but he'd done so in a way that completely ignored renewal. Sustainable growth needs to draw on all four elements: earth, water, air, and fire.
Exercise: Ground Condition Test
This exercise will help you gauge the balance of the four elements in your ground condition. It is a good tool to come back to regularly. Allow yourself about 10 minutes for this exercise.
Take a couple of minutes to relax and turn your attention inward. You may find it helpful to close your eyes. Now, imagine that you are a piece of earth. Let your awareness sink down into this piece of earth and get a sense of its condition. Is it depleted or rich? Wet or dry? Dense or airy? Hot or cold?
Imagine how these qualities apply to your own ground condition right now. Then use the format below to document your ground condition. The ideal range is between 4.5 and 6.5 on a scale of 1 to 10.
You may like to imagine how you would manage a piece of earth with these ratings and see what this suggests for improving your own ground condition. Stay aware of these ratings as you read more about managing ground condition and the four elements in Chapters 1 and 2.
Soil Types
The ground condition of any farm or garden is fundamentally shaped by its soil type, such as clay, chalk, or sand. Each soil type has characteristic strengths and problems and will suit some crops better than others. As the Natural Advantage process has evolved, I've developed a sense that the main soil types equate to temperament or personality types in people. There are six main soil types, all with human equivalents.
Sand. Sandy soils have an open texture, and both water and organic matter tend to drain through them quickly. Basic fertility is low, but sandy soil can be highly productive if organic matter is regularly added. This equates to people who are potentially fiery and creative but lack follow-through and stamina. They need frequent refills of fertility and good composting to avoid burnout. Steve Worowski is an example of this soil type.
Silt. This is the fine-textured, fertile earth found in river valleys. It is so fine that it lacks structure. It becomes clogged with water and is too dense for air and heat to circulate. A silty soil is like a person who is highly intelligent but impractical. An example of a silt temperament is Phil Morris, managing director of Alibi Publishing, profiled on page 37.
Clay. A dense, heavy soil, clay can easily become waterlogged or hard and dry. Its inherent fertility is fair, but it can be developed through cultivation, drainage, and adding humus. In people, this equates to a temperament that is rather serious and has difficulty in handling emotions. Alison Martin, whom you will soon meet, has a clay temperament.
Loam. Loam is a mixture of the three soil types mentioned above. These combination soils tend to have better structure and fertility than the single-soil types. Although they can be highly productive, loam soils still need considerable care and cultivation. The human equivalent is a temperament that is more complex, more versatile, and more productive than the others.
Chalk. In a chalky soil, the topsoil is thin and alkaline, which limits the range of plants it can support. Chalk soils tend toward dryness because water drains right through them. Their fertility is fair, but it can be developed by adding organic matter. A person with a chalk temperament may be a maverick, with a risk of seeming dry, sour, and unemotional.
Peat. Peat soils have high organic content and good structure. They retain moisture, but they also drain well. However, peat is highly acidic, which means that it stifles biological activity. If left to itself, peat soil will usually be quite dead and unproductive. Someone with a peat temperament is usually intelligent and talented but risks being bitter, disaffected, and unable to apply their potential to their work.
Using soil types as a model for different human characters offers another simple and revealing way to understand both the needs and the potential of your ground condition. In gardening, it is clear that some crops will thrive in one soil type and fail in another. As you explore your own soil type, consider whether your work outputs suit it and whether you have a balance between crops that are demanding and those that are restorative for your temperament.
* * *
Send in the Pigs
I met Alison Martin in one of my workshops at Magdalen Farm on how to fulfill yourself sustainably in work. When she spoke about why she'd come to the program, she said: "I'm not at a crossroads: I'm at the end of the road, suicidal. I'm sick of my work, and I'm propping myself up with antidepressants, cigarettes, and wine. I feel like my job is killing me." Alison was 40 years old, a successful middle manager with a high-pressure job in hospital administration. But her skin was sallow, and she wore a tense, negative expression. In ground condition terms, I felt she was a clay type, waterlogged, bogged down, and swamped by negative feelings.
As the weekend went on, Alison reached the same view of her ground condition as I had reached. She questioned Peter Norman, the farm manager, about the boggy field at the west end of the farm and how he was dealing with it. "The land there is clay," Peter explained, "so it's got a tendency toward waterlogging, but we can improve it over time. The main structural change is drainage; we're putting in a network of field drains to draw off the excess water. Another thing we do is turn the pigs on it."
(Continues...)
Excerpted from THE NATURAL ADVANTAGE by ALAN HEEKS. Copyright © 2001 by Alan Heeks. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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