Trust and Faith

Has food, one of life's basic essential necessities, become a matter of trust and faith?  A trust and faith not so much in a religious sense, but rather a humanistic, person to person sense.  If food has become a matter of trust and faith, what happens when that trust and faith becomes exploited? 

I suppose in some ways we have always put faith into our food.  Our ancestors were dependent on some entity to provide them with food. The hunter gatherer societies depended on the forest, the plains, plants, animals, essentially the whole overall ecological system to produce food. 

Has this dependency also followed us as we moved from hunter-gatherers to industrial agriculturists?  I have to say yes to this question simply because only 2 percent of our population are in the agricultural field. If the rest of the population, us 98 percenters, aren't growing our own food, what are we doing?  We are putting faith into a small group of individuals to provide us with a basic need so we can explore and develop our own interests and skills. 

On the forefront I see nothing wrong with this form of specialization.  It is most likely beneficial for the whole if everyone is able to hone in on his or her skills.  But what happens when this theoretical specialization is corrupted?  It would seem that if only 2 percent are growing our food, the rest of the 98 percent would be keeping them in check, holding the growers to a high standard.  As we can see with industrial agricultural and its myriad of costs as well as manipulative properties that has not been the case.

Ultimately, if we cannot trust the main suppliers of our food, who are we to put our faith in?  It seems that the answer we jump quickest to is the farmer.  What is the farmer?  It may be false to say, but jumping to this conclusion is running the risk of being cliché.  When we say farmer, there are idealistic, romanticized, almost euphoric images laced with it.  Of course the rugged cowboy tipping his hat gazing at the sun as it sets over the horizon and casts its orange rays across gently swaying blades of wheat grass will come to save the day.  It is a nice image.  I'll admit that.  But I think that is all it is. I am no farmer, but it seems like farming in this day and age is anything but nice.  I think we must dive deeper into that answer and see if the farmer can truly supply us.  Can the local farmer keep up with the rising demand for ethically grown and raised food without corrupting his or her ideals when the need for expansion arises?  How can the small farmer remain economically stable without dismissing his or her beliefs?  How do they avoid the phenomenon of becoming industrial organic farms?  Can the small local organic farm survive the increasing human population?  I do not know.  These are the several walls I hit.

Although I have run the risk of sounding cynical, I don't think all is lost in the answer of farmer.  There must be some hope laced in with the farmer as well.  Buying locally, participating in a CSA, farmers markets, and building relationships with the farmers are all incredibly helpful first steps.  They should be implemented as much as possible.  But there must be more.  What this more is I have yet to find.  Hopefully it is somewhere underneath all of these discussions, and it is simply a matter of letting it come to light.