Jay Brunner is hunched over a microscope, watching a
tiny wasp crawl over a bright-green caterpillar called a
leafroller. The ant-sized wasp has laid about 10 eggs on the
leafroller's dense web. When the young wasps hatch, the
entomologist explains, they'll feed on the larva's body fluids,
injecting enzymes that will dissolve its internal organs.
This ghoulish scene being played out at
Washington State University's Tree Fruit Research and Extension
Center in Wenatchee fills Brunner and other researchers with
optimism. The wasp is a promising tool for controlling the
leafroller - the second most costly pest in Washington's apple
industry. The leafroller is named for its habit of rolling up
leaves, but it damages the apple by eating its
skin.
Brunner is a member of a skeleton crew of
about two dozen scientists working to secure the future of the
state's fruit growers. The Wenatchee research station, which has
long been the state's fruit growers' major source of applied
research, is the base of operations for about six of them. This is
the same number the research station had 25 years ago, when the
apple crop was about one-third of this year's projected size, and
when irrigation, fertilization and pest control were much simpler.
"WSU has diminished in firepower tremendously,"
says George Ing, manager of the Washington Tree Fruit Research
Commission, an industry group which is quadrupling its financial
support of tree fruit research over a four-year period. "It's been
a real war just to keep them alive. They haven't expanded to meet
the needs, and they should have. Before this commission was created
in 1969, there was virtually no industry funding of research. In
1969 we harvested 29 million boxes of apples. This year we're going
to have about 100 million boxes, and WSU has not grown an ounce."
While the university pays for the infrastructure
at Wenatchee - salaries, building space, test tubes - officials are
quick to acknowledge industry's pivotal role in financing the
research itself: "The only way we can continue the program is those
external grants and contracts," says Jim Zuiches, former director
of Washington State's ag research station.
The
legislature has cut funding to Washington State ag researchers and
extension agents by 9.5 percent in the last four years, and more
cuts are expected. Two years ago, legislators even discussed the
possibility of severing the research and extension arms of the
university entirely.
Tree fruit research is doing
much better than other areas of ag research at Washington State.
The university has shielded it from the cuts that have sheared
faculty from other areas of agricultural research. In the last
couple of years, two berry researcher positions have been dropped,
the animal science department has taken heavy cuts, and the poultry
research division has disappeared entirely. Still, the tree fruit
industry's needs aren't being met by the university.
The legislature's attitude toward agricultural
research is partly due to the fact that Washington is a state
divided: The Cascades separate its agricultural, sparsely populated
east side from the coastal region, home to most people and those
with most political clout.
"The people on the
east side know what we're doing," says one Washington State
researcher. "The people in Seattle don't give a flying
you-know-what about what we're doing. What they care about is
getting from one end of Interstate 5 to the other to get their
paycheck at the end of the week. You can't blame them. It's
demographics."
One of the biggest stumbling
blocks in keeping agricultural research on its feet is the
galloping cost of supporting scientists. This increase has far
outpaced the modest increases in state and federal funding for
agriculture nationwide in recent years. In 1981, it cost $140,000 a
year to support a government-funded researcher. Ten years later the
cost was $264,000 - an increase attibuted to inflation, salary
raises and the increased sophistication of instrumentation. This
has taken its toll. More than 400 research positions at land-grant
university experiment stations were lost between 1990 and 1993 - a
drop of about 6.5 percent. Federal scientists have fared no better:
At the USDA's Yakima Agriculture Research Laboratory in Washington,
which conducts research on tree fruits and other crops, the number
of scientists has dropped from 16 to seven in the last
decade.
And while the federal government will
likely increase its support for research on alternatives to
pesticides in the near future, state support for agricultural
research has flattened since 1989. Once the figures are adjusted
for inflation, the decline was nearly 7 percent nationwide between
1990 and 1993.
"There isn't an experiment station
in the country that isn't struggling," says Joe Kunsman, director
of academic programs at the National Association of State
Universities and Land-Grant Colleges.
It is
getting harder and harder for land-grant colleges to fulfill their
traditional role. With scanty support, they are working to keep an
increasingly complicated agricultural industry on its feet. In
Washington and elsewhere, the pressure is mounting to shift the
load from taxpayers onto agriculture itself. Indeed, private
support for agricultural research is on the increase nationwide:
During the 1980s, it increased its share of the pie from 16 percent
to 19 percent, a larger increase than from any other
source.
The trend raises the question: When is it
appropriate for industry to foot the bill, and when is it
appropriate for the public to do so? The public should pay when the
main beneficiaries are other than the growers, suggests William
Lockeretz, the director of the Center for Agriculture, Food and
Environment at Tufts University in Massachusetts and a longtime
observer of agricultural trends. "A great deal of agricultural
research benefits consumers, the environment and resource
conservation ... It's not reasonable for us to expect growers to
(fund) that."
An example of this is the slight
reduction in the use of pesticides by farmers since the early
1980s. Lockeretz attributes much of this reduction, as well as
better soil conservation practices among farmers, to publicly
funded research. "Agricultural research is often a place where
well-spent public money pays the public back manyfold," he
says.
Zuiches points out that keeping rural
communities on their feet is another good use of public ag research
dollars.
"The fact is that 85 percent of the
farmers in most states are relatively small-scale," he says. "For
those people to stay in the business it's in the best interest of
the state to provide some of the research that underpins their
survival. In Washington, most of the berry farmers are small folks;
they provide the green belt around the cities."
Another benefit of agricultural research done in
the public arena is that it will stay public. For all their
unwieldiness, inertia and expense, universities place a high
priority on access to information and communication among
scientists. The much-maligned "publish or perish" credo that keeps
academics holed up and away from the public yields journal articles
that constitute a public body of
knowledge.
Private industry has different
priorities. The Washington Tree Fruit Research Commission hired its
own scientist - plant pathologist Peter Sanderson - a year and a
half ago. Ing can think of better for things for Sanderson to do
than writing and editing academic papers.
"We
want him working," says Ing. "We want him to do research that can
be immediately applied to industry for use." Ing is also somewhat
protective about the research that's done in Washington. "If this
is Washington money, and our fruit is in Washington, maybe our
scientists shouldn't be funding the knowledge for the industry
outside the state. At least people would like to have a couple of
years of use of it before it's used elsewhere."
But Sanderson - whose budget this year is
$150,000, slightly more than half of what it costs to keep a
government scientist in business - maintains that if he can find
the time to publish in academic journals, he will. He received his
doctorate from University of Wisconsin and did postgraduate work at
Oregon State University.
"It's necessary to
disseminate information," he says. "If you don't disseminate it,
you'll constantly be reinventing the wheel. For my training,
publishing is only finishing the job. If you haven't published, you
haven't finished."
Sanderson takes pains to
maintain collegial relationships with Washington State scientists:
"Not only does the university have the opportunity to get money
from the industry, but they have the opportunity to get some of
their work done through me, because I'll cooperate with them."
He predicts scientists working for industry will
become more common. "All the state legislatures are pulling back
(on funding agricultural research in land-grant colleges)," he
says. "It's recognized that relationships with industry ... are
extremely important."
*Lisa
Jones






