Organic vs. Antibiotics

My cold turned into a sinus infection, so I went to my favorite doctor to cadge come antibiotics (Dr. Foley at Philomath Family Medicine, a clinic started by hippie doctors in the Seventies, and still a laid-back and mellow place). Given my chronic sinus conditions, I do all the usual stuff, with an air filter in my office and saline nasal rinses, but sometimes the bacteria get the upper hand anyway. When this happens, it’s time to see the doctor and get some drugs. Most people do this, even people who love the idea of “natural remedies.”

(And why isn’t penicillin considered to be a natural remedy? It’s harvested directly from the penicillium mold.)

It saddens me that so many people don’t use the same approach with their livestock. The use of antibiotics sullies their political correctness and organic status, so people drag their feet and let their animals suffer before breaking out the drugs. I don’t think they have their priorities straight.

Standard-Breed Broilers

Here’s a data point for you: we just butchered and sold a batch of New Hampshire broilers, 11-week-old cockerels. They ranged from 1.25 pounds to 1.5 pounds. These little broilers are what is meant by a “spring chicken.”

Hybrid broilers of the same age would have dressed out at 5-6 pounds.

This 4x difference in weight is why no one raises standard-breed chickens for meat anymore. The labor in raising chickens is per-chicken, but the payoff is per-pound, so it’s hard to make money with little chickens.

The Writer Effect

The “writer effect” is this: The opinions of the most effective writers spread and become conventional wisdom, even if they’re wrong. The reason being that it’s hard to listen to people who don’t get the word out in the first place, or are too hard to understand.

Back when I was starting out in poultry, there wasn’t much information on the Web, and I had to rely on conventional research — buying books and haunting libraries. Back when millions of farmers kept poultry, there were a lot of books in print about poultrykeeping, but by the Nineties the literature had divided into expensive, specialist tomes aimed at graduate students and professors, and popular works written by enthusiastic amateurs.

What was missing were the works for practical farmers — people who expected to sell poultry and eggs from flocks of anywhere between, say, 25 and 5,000 chickens. Such flocks were the mainstay if the industry until the Fifties, but pretty much vanished after that, with the exception of folks who were essentially large-scale hobbyists. No new books were being written by practical farmers, and the old ones all went out of print.

With the rise of the alternative food movement, interest in small-farm poultry and eggs revived, and newcomers turned to the in-print books about poultry, which meant the books by and for backyarders. As I learned from experience, trying to base a business on the advice of hobbyists is a mug’s game, and we had to learn a lot of things the hard way.

The main take-away was, “Find the right experts.” Lots of people want desperately to believe that the world works in a certain way, and that you can risk your retirement account (or what’s left of it) on a picture-postcard farm and come out ahead. What you need is examples and advice from people who’ve really succeeded at what you’re thinking of doing, so that you can figure out (a) if you want to try it yourself, and (b) how you should go about it.

After reading every 20th-century poultry book I could find, my rules of thumb are this:

  • Most writing is done by journalists and hobbyists who have never tried running a business.
  • Nevertheless, they are free with business advice and can be very convincing.
  • For many topics, the audience is not doers, but consumers. Stuff written for consumers is generally useless: dumbed down, moralistic, designed to inspire, titillate, or outrage rather than inform. It can hardly be otherwise, because the writers are rarely experts. Expertise requires immersion into a topic for a long time. It’s rare for someone who has done this to be willing or able to write for a mass audience. That’s the writer effect again.
  • Be cautious about advice from anyone who hasn’t been using the same methods for five years. A new farm that’s utterly doomed generally takes three years to fail, and may look enticing right up to the end. This is partly because it’s running on outside money, and it takes a while for this to dry up, and partly because certain problems (such as parasites or over-grazing) don’t build up to crisis levels for a few years. Not all books with an “Our Wonderful Farm” theme make it into print before the foreclosure.
  • Look for original sources. This is an important rule in science and scholarship, and it’s good for everyone. It seems like every journalist in the country has written something about Joel Salatin’s farm. This stuff is sort of interesting, but they’re neither are accurate nor as detailed as Joel’s own works.
  • Newness is not necessarily goodness. Over time, we develop new technologies and lose old ones. Sometimes the lost technologies are more appropriate to a given task. My dad was an aerospace engineer, and the peculiar requirements of the loading mechanism for the T.O.W. missile baffled him for a while, but his interest in antique firearms came to his rescue. In the mid-nineteenth century, every imaginable loading mechanism was tried, and he adapted the concept used by (if I remember correctly) the Martini-Henry rifle to the needs of the missile launcher. This sort of thing happens in every field.
  • Often the experts are not great writers, and their books can have very low production values. The writer effect means that books with good production values, aimed at a large audience, tend to be more visible than the books with the best content. Some of the smartest people in the world can’t spell.
  • As with everything else, following chains of recommendations works best. Pull your most useful books off the shelf and see what other books the author recommends, or lists in the bibliography. Follow links from the most helpful Web sites.

Chicken Geometry II

In a previous post, I talked about chicken geometry, a topic which revolves about where things should go relative to other things for best results, and how much to use.

For example, anyone who keeps free-range hens at a density of over 100 hens per acre is probably scamming you, since their acreage turns into a barren, parasite-infested mudhole. This is partly due to the way the chickens scratch at the ground, ripping up the turf, but it’s mostly a matter of overloading the soil with far more manure than the ground cover can handle. Do the math.

(People point out to me that the EU allows up to 400 hens an acre, which is true. The folks in the EU didn’t do the math. Hardly anyone ever does, unless there’s a dollar sign in the equation.)

So here are a few geometry-based rules to help with your chickens:

  • Don’t put feeders under the roosts.
  • Rats like to hide under floors, wooden pallets, and other kinds of shelter. They don’t feel safe unless the ceiling is low. Raising floors, pallets, etc. 18″ off the ground will help keep ’em away, and will allow cats and terriers to hunt them.
  • Chickens like to roost at the highest point available. Make sure that’s a roost and not a nest box.
  • Chickens like laying at ground level, in a dark space, and in corners. You can do worse than putting your nest boxes there.
  • If your waterers aren’t as high as a chicken’s back, there will be some backflow out of their crops and into the waterer when they drink. Keeping the waterers high keeps ’em cleaner and more sanitary.
  • For laying hens, high roosts can make your chicken houses more manageable. You can walk around bent over like Groucho Marx under roosts four feet off the ground. Useful for getting at those eggs in the back corners of the houses.
  • Lots of hens like to crowd into a single nest. If the nest is large enough to permit this, you get fewer broken eggs.
  • Chickens will rarely try to fly over a barrier they can see through, so they can be confined by absurdly low fences, such as a single strand of electric fence wire 5″ off the ground. The same low wire deters dogs, coyotes, and raccoons.
  • In hot weather, you can’t count on chickens crossing a stretch of blinding sunlight to reach a waterer. Put the waterers in the shade with the chickens.
  • Dominant chickens will often prevent the ones at the bottom of the pecking order from eating. Be generous with the number of feeders, and space them out. A bully can’t be everywhere at once.

More Mud

Wow, we even got our Toyota T100 pickup stuck in the mud. That’s how soft the ground is with all the March rain.

If anyone knows of a good guide to making a cheap, light-duty gravel road, I could use some pointers. I’m thinking of investing in a gravel loop across the pasture so we never have this problem again.

[Update, March 30: the ground hardened just enough for me to escape. Yee-haw! I discovered that the pickup has enough ground clearance for me to drive right over my ultra-low electric fence (with strands at 5″ and 10″ off the ground) without carrying it away. Which is just as well, since the ground was so soft that I wasn’t stopping for anything.]