Pavlovsk mainstay passes away

Leonid Burmistrov, Leading Scientist of the Fruit and Berry Crop Genetic Resources Department of the N.I. Vavilov Institute of Plant Industry (VIR) in St Petersburg, has died. From the recent announcement on the VIR website:

Leonid Burmistrov has made a significant contribution to the preservation of the threatened fruit and berry crop collections located at the Pavlovsk Experiment station of VIR. He gave 60 interviews to the Russian and foreign mass media. Thanks to his efforts, the collection continues to exist.

Nibbles: Barley, Fellowship, Supplier, Malnutrition, choices, Rice and climate change

Agricultural biodiversity crucial to the agricultural “revolution”

I’ve started dabbling in the marshy shallows around the deep pool of my ignorance of the modern history of agriculture, and one thing has become even more obvious.

Mixed farming — mixed species of crop as well as mixed kingdoms of plants and animals — was without a doubt the sine qua non of both phases of the long, slow increases in English farm productivity from about 1500 to 1850 and beyond. ((Long, slow and two-phase being the primary reasons for the scare quotes in the title of this post.))

I get all this from two fascinating and eminently readable papers by Robert C. Allen. The first ((Allen, R. (2008). The Nitrogen Hypothesis and the English Agricultural Revolution: A Biological Analysis The Journal of Economic History, 68 (01) DOI: 10.1017/S0022050708000065.)) uses detailed estimates of nitrogen flows to build a dynamic model that simulates the amount of nitrogen available to plants under various types of management. The second ((Allen, R. (1999). Tracking the agricultural revolution in England The Economic History Review, 52 (2), 209-235 DOI: 10.1111/1468-0289.00123)) examines a variety of estimates of changes in overall agricultural productivity in England to ask whether there was indeed a revolution, and if so, when did it take place. The result is a much more nuanced picture of how agriculture changed, at least for me.

July from Les Trés Rich Heures du Duc de Berry It starts after the Black Death, when a lack of labour shifted land from arable to pasture and increased the number of animals. “More animals meant more manure, and more manure meant higher grain yields”. Alternatively (or additionally) there’s so called up-and-down or convertible husbandry, in which land alternates between arable and pasture with a fairly long timescale, often measured in decades. Although animals are grazing and dunging on the pasture this is not quite the same as the manure hypothesis, because it is natural deposition and fixation of nitrogen from the air rather than cycling through the animals that increases the amount of nitrogen in pasture soils. Animals, again. And a final factor is the increasing use of legumes, with peas and beans replacing barley and oats as the spring crop, and then the use of clovers and their gradual codification in the famous Norfolk rotation of turnips, barley, clover and wheat. The crucial insight here is not merely that the clover fixed nitrogen, but that it and the turnips supported livestock, whose manure added more nitrogen to the soil stock.

“The barley and wheat produced beer and bread for the people, while the turnips and clover fed sheep and cattle”.

There’s lots more of great interest in the two papers I cited, but for me there are three very clear take-home messages. First, considerable increases in yield took place long before it became possible to add energy-intensive nitrogen directly to the soil, indeed, long before anyone knew anything about the importance of nitrogen as a limiting plant nutrient. Secondly, this depended absolutely on farms and fields using different crops, and livestock played a central role. Finally, it took a long time for yields to rise, but having risen they stayed high.

Any messages in there for current agriculture, do you suppose?

Of cattle and people. And barley

Dienekes, a blogger who specializes in molecular anthropology, has a quick note today on a paper on the molecular genetics of cattle in Europe. The main story is one of distinction between North and South.

Apparently, the expansion of the dairy breeds have created, or largely maintained, a sharp genetic contrast of northern and southern Europe, which divides both France and Germany. It may be hypothesised that the northern landscapes, with large flat meadows, are suitable for large-scale farming with specialised dairy cattle (Niederungsvieh, lowland cattle), whilst the mixed-purpose or beef cattle (Höhenvieh, highland cattle) are better suited to the smaller farms and hilly regions of the south. However, it is also remarkable that in both France and Germany the bovine genetic boundary coincides with historic linguistic and cultural boundaries. In France, the Frankish invasion in the north created the difference between the northern langue d’oïl and the southern langue d’oc. The German language is still divided into the southern Hochdeutsch and northern Niederdeutsch dialects, which also correlates with the distribution of the Catholic and Protestant religions. On a larger scale, it is tempting to speculate that the difference between two types of European cattle reflects, and has even reinforced, the traditional and still visible contrast of Roman and Germanic Europe.

It doesn’t seem that the strong latitudinal genetic differentiation in cattle is matched by one in human populations. Here the pattern is much more gradual and clinal. ((Maybe there’s more interbreeding among human populations than between cattle breeds?)) However, there may be a similar “sharp genetic contrast of northern and southern Europe” (or at least between the Mediterranean and the rest of Europe) for barley. ((Yeah, I know it’s an old paper, but it’s the only map of barley genetic diversity in Europe I could find online at short notice. No doubt our readers will send in better examples.))

I’d dearly love to have the time to find out whether other livestock and crops show a similar pattern.