The hard lines that have been drawn between facts and values, humans and nature, science and religion, appear to be softening. The foundational work for this transformation was already laid by luminaries like Alfred North Whitehead, Michael Polanyi, Karl Popper, Gregory Bateson, Wendell Berry, and others. More recently Ellen Davis (Scripture, Culture and Agriculture) and Norman Wirzba (Food and Faith) have taken on the task of relating some of the perceived failures in our current food system to some of the biblical wisdom in ancient Judeo-Christian literature. And now we can add Whitney Sanford’s new book, Stories From India: Religion and the Fate of Agriculture to this list.

Whitney begins by pointing out that “scholars in religious studies and South Asian studies have become increasingly aware of the connections between human life and the environment, and, more recently, agriculture.” Using the narratives from these resources Whitney addresses two questions: “How does Hindu thought conceptualize the human relationship to the earth in terms of agriculture? And Does Hinduism offer strategies to alleviate the social and environmental costs associated with industrial agriculture?” (7).

Her answer to both of these questions is a resounding, yes. But in the process she points out the important role that myths and narratives play in the way we see our world and the way we act in it. She argues that such influences are particularly relevant to how we conceive of, and develop, our food and agriculture world.

The predominant narrative informing modern, industrial agriculture is one that insists that maximum efficient production for short term economic return has to be our singular goal. That narrative largely leaves out any consideration for the long term effect that such agricultural practices will have on the biotic community on which such practices ultimately depend, and on which future generations will depend. The results of such an agricultural narrative, while meeting perceived immediate needs, raises important ethical questions about the value of a self-renewing biotic community and the ability of future generations to feed themselves.

Whitney chooses a Hindu agricultural narrative that demonstrates how narratives can help guide us through the dilemma of the entitlement to earth’s bounty (a right that most agriculturalists assume they must have to be successful), and the larger social and ecological health issues that are often jeopardized by those very narratives.

The two figures in Hindu religious thought that address this dilemma are the male agricultural deity, Balaram, who forcibly diverts the Yamuna River goddess to make her waters available to insure agricultural fertility. This narrative reminds the participants in the springtime festival, Holi, (including the farmers who harvest their winter crops and celebrate their successes), of the violence that their actions can cause to the larger biotic community on which they ultimately depend. Whitney believes that it will be essential for us to create such alternative narratives to our modern, industrial agriculture narrative, a narrative that focuses only on maximum production at any cost.

Since the success of agriculture ultimately depends on the health of our larger biotic and social communities, the health of the whole needs to be incorporated into our modern agricultural narrative. This will require us to develop an “ecological imagination” that echo’s the question that Balaram presents: “How can we balance the human need for agricultural production with the needs of the broader biological community?” (224) Eventually the narratives that inform our modern agriculture paradigm will have to encompass these larger issues.

Whitney is confident that “If we revise our stories about food and food production to incorporate social and environmental concerns alongside economic ones, we can develop alternatives that are beneficial on all three fronts.” (224) Such new stories can certainly play a significant role in the evolution of a new, future agricultural paradigm.

Furthermore, the new emerging philosophy of science, which recognizes that science is a process, not a collection of irrefutable facts, (As Gregory Bateson put it, “Science probes, it does not prove”) it has the additional potential to seriously question the oft repeated claim that our current industrial agriculture is “science-based”—implying that it is now conclusive and can no longer be questioned. This new science lays additional ground work for questioning our current, predominant agricultural paradigm.

However, there are other major barriers that stand in the way of this necessary transformation. We have now created a set of powerful market infrastructures and public policies that tend to entrench the current system. Furthermore, that segment of the population that benefits from the current food and agriculture system will naturally use all their powerful advantage in an effort to keep the current story of maximum, efficient production for their short term economic return in place as long as possible. Consequently the new food stories we are creating need to become incorporated into an active food citizen movement that begins to change the way we all eat. That food revolution is definitely underway, but it still has a long way to go to accomplish the transformation Whitney envisions.

All that said, Whitney’s new book is informative and inspirational and will definitely play a role in the evolution of our new food future.