WELCOME to the farm of the future. There’s no need to pull on your boots, just step into the lift for a tour of the six floors of this high-rise farm, which includes all the elements of a country town, including barns, abattoir, power station and a fleet of lorries.
Instead of nestling on an idyllic rural hillside, this farm is stacked inside a gigantic factory building among the silos and cranes of Rotterdam harbour. It has a floor space of 400,000 square metres—roughly 60 soccer fields. The pigsties on your left contain 300,000 porkers. The henhouse to your right holds 1.2 million chickens. Mushrooms and Belgian endive grow in the dark interior of the factory, vegetables and flowers flourish in hothouses on the top floor, and millions of salmon swim in the ground-floor fish hatchery.
For now, this high-rise for animals and crops, named Deltapark by its inventors, exists only on the drawing boards of the Innovation Network for Rural Areas, a think tank established by the Dutch ministry of agriculture. But the claims sound alluring: not only could Deltapark supply a million people with fresh local meat, fish and vegetables, it would do so at a much lower environmental cost than a conventional farm, and even improve animal welfare into the bargain.
Advertisement
“It was our starting point to develop something that is more environmentally friendly than the current system,” says agricultural engineer Jan De Wilt, one of the designers. With scientific rigour, he and his colleagues have worked out a closed system that recycles wastes, cuts emissions and could even save money. Stacking different farming processes into a high-rise would also save this small country precious space. The idea has already drawn favourable comment from Dutch agriculture minister Laurens Jan Brinkhorst.
Not surprisingly, Brinkhorst is in the minority. As soon as the Deltapark plan was published by the National Council for Agricultural Research in October 2000, farmers, animal rights groups, media and politicians heaped scorn on it. After all, scandals about foot and mouth disease, BSE in cattle and dioxin in chicken have left the public with a deep scepticism about high-tech farming. “People are fed up with intensive agriculture,” says Bert van den Berg of the Dutch animal-rights organisation Dierenbescherming. “Deltapark is going in the wrong direction.”
Still, Dutch agriculture has moved a long way from farmer Dick in rubber boots slopping his pigs from a bucket. Despite being only half the size of Scotland, the Netherlands is now Europe’s second biggest exporter of agronomic products after France. This prominence comes at a high cost: crops, hothouses, chicken and pig farms cover two-thirds of the country’s land surface, leaving precious little for nature. With just 16 million people, the nation boasts a pig population of 15 million. Many animals spend their short lives in solitary confinement in dark, narrow stalls. Farmers are at a loss to get rid of the manure that taints nature reserves and groundwater. “Pig manure is Holland’s biggest problem,” says agricultural sociologist Jan van der Ploeg of Wageningen Agronomical University.
To an engineer, Deltapark is a logical solution to this dilemma, because it gets rid of the environmental problems while preserving the current level of food production. “Deltapark connects different sectors into something like an ecosystem,” says De Wilt. The animals’ faeces serve as fertiliser for the vegetables two floors above. Plant wastes in turn are converted into animal feed. Even the pigs’ farts are recycled as biogas to heat the hothouses instead of escaping into the harbour air. Smaller-scale tests have proven that such closed systems can work, but De Wilt and his colleagues are still working through the numbers on the full Deltapark operation.
Last but not least, the megafarm would be far more animal-friendly than your ordinary hog pen, the engineers assert. Because the complex saves resources, more money could be spent on animal welfare, says De Wilt. Deltapark’s design calls for animals to live in open pens much larger than today’s pig stalls and chicken coops. They could even get some fresh air on balconies. It doesn’t bother De Wilt that the sties are stacked on top of each other: “If people can live in high-rises, why can’t pigs?” he asks.
And shocking images of animals injured or dying of thirst on long truck journeys across Europe would belong to the past: a pig would live all its life in Deltapark, be slaughtered at the in-house abattoir, and its meat would be packed on-site. Even then, meat for local consumption would need to travel only a stone’s throw to town, saving the cost and environmental impact of long-distance transport. Today, every fourth lorry on Dutch roads is carrying food.
Architect Winy Maas takes the concept even further with what he calls Pig Towers, a bizarre blend of animal mass production and organic farming. Maas envisions 140,000 pigs living in skyscrapers 600 metres high but strictly obeying the codes of organic farming—for example, the animals would get straw to rummage in and balconies adorned with apple trees for snuffling about under. Biogas burning, water recycling and feed from local sources would minimise the environmental impact.
But agronomists are sceptical that such a giant farm could be managed properly. “Perfectly closed systems aren’t feasible,” says Jan Douwe van der Ploeg, professor of rural sociology at Wageningen University. Attempts with closed-cycle glasshouses have shown that sooner or later diseases will emerge and spread, he warns. Still, some of his colleagues are not entirely dismissive of the Deltapark idea. “It’s a serious proposal because we have to change the way we keep animals,” says Berry Spruijt, animal behaviour specialist at Wageningen University. Yet he doubts that people will accept an apartment block for pigs. “Farmers and people have an emotional objection to pigs in flats,” he says.
So the barren 40-hectare lot in Rotterdam harbour may lie fallow for a long time to come. “Even if we found investors now, it would still take 5 to 10 years to start construction,” says De Wilt. But even factoring in the initial construction costs, he expects food from Deltapark to cost about the same as conventionally produced food. “We are convinced the concept offers economic advantages,” he says.
In the end, of course, it’s all up to the consumer. “If people don’t like this idea, it won’t stand a chance,” acknowledges De Wilt. A provocative concept like Deltapark may force people to rethink their attitude towards animals and nature, believes animal-production specialist Akke van der Zijpp. “It’s an extreme example to test people’s opinions towards food production.”
