Whatever happened to British veal? Too cute to eat, or the only ethical response?

Dairy cows unavoidably produce male calves that are of no use to the dairy industry. They used to end up as veal, and in 1960, Britons ate more than 600,000 calves worth of the stuff. By the 1980s, that had dropped to less than 35,000. Ten years ago, a UK trade magazine said that “public opinion … generally regards veal as ethically somewhere between dodo omelettes and panda fritters”.

And yet, today there’s no shortage of veal and no surplus of dairy bullocks.

Time was when veal calves were kept in the dark. These days, it may be the shoppers who have helped to solve the problem of surplus male dairy calves. Behind the shift is a complicated story of moral outrage, utterly unpredictable disease outbreaks and the willingness of some strange bedfellows to work together to solve a difficult problem for the food supply system.

Notes

  1. Gillian Hopkinson is a senior lecturer at Lancaster University School of Management.
  2. Clips from BBC Radio 4 – You and Yours and BBC World Service – Witness, Mad cow disease – CJD.
  3. Music by Podington Bear.
  4. Banner photo of two Dutch dairy calves by Peter Nijenhuis and cover by debstreasures.

huffduffer icon   Huffduff it

Guinness and the value of statistics

Dabble in beer and you know that Oregon hops occupy a special place in the resurgence of craft brewing. Keenies (and those who listened to my podcast on the history of hops also know that long before craft beer became a necessary response to big industrial brewers, the biggest industrial brewer of all ((A million and a half barrels a year at the start of the 20th century. Funny thing; you don’t see many artisans trying to brew a tastier Guinness. Maybe there’s something to all this scientific quality control after all.)) was getting all of its American hops from the Pacific northwest.

Dabble in statistics and you know about Student’s t-test. Keenies may even know that Student’s real name was William Sealy Gosset, and that he worked for that biggest of all industrial brewers.

Put the two together and you find out how hops made it necessary for Gosset to invent the t-test and why Guinness made him hide his identity.

Industrial brewing

One way in which Guinness brought science to bear on beer was to rely on objective measurements rather than the experience and accumulated subjective wisdom of brewers to assess the quality of their raw materials. Thomas Case, Guinness’s first scientific brewer, believed that the quality of Guinness depended on the soft resins in the hops used to flavour the brew. Case measured small samples of hops in order to determine the average of the whole batch, the population from which the samples were drawn. A colleague measured a similar small number of samples from the same batch. The average of the two sets of measurements differed; was that a real difference or not? Were the samples of hops the same, at least with regard to their soft resins? Case could not be sure and talked about “the weak link between examination or analysis and the brewing value”.

Nevertheless, based on the research by Case and his colleagues, and the fact that American hops were both cheaper and contained more soft resins, Guinness entered into a deal with Emil Horst to source Oregon hops.

At the time statistics had no approach to deciding whether such small samples represented identical populations. Enter Gosset, a recent graduate in chemistry and mathematics from the University of Oxford and one of a succession of bright young people hired by Guinness as experimental, scientific brewers. Gosset started working for Guinness in 1899 and his mathematical abilities led to him doing most of the analyses for all the various experiments the scientific brewers were undertaking, on barley growth, fertilisers, soil and climate, all of which, ultimately, might influence the quality of the malt and thus the quality of Guinness itself. All these experiments suffered the same drawback as Case’s hops measurements: small sample sizes.

Gosset’s genius was to determine how the size of a sample introduces a predictable level of uncertainty into measurements of the population average. The smaller the sample, the greater the chance of a difference between the sample average and the population average. Knowing that, brewers could decide in advance how many samples they needed to measure in order to be reasonably certain that two populations were the same. ((Strictly speaking, they want to know whether the two populations are different, and that’s not quite the same thing, but we’ll let that slide.)) That enabled them to make sure that their hops, their barley and their malt were of a suitable quality and uniformity to make a standard pint of Guinness.

Important, not significant

Gosset was more than a mathematician, though. He also applied hard-headed economic logic, something for which Guinness was also famous. The reason for small samples was the time and cost of each one. The fewer samples needed to make some decision, the more efficient. To that Gosset added another point that many of the people who use Student’s t-test today forget: that the value of the odds – the probability that two samples are not the same, for example – “depends on the importance of the issues at stake”. This is the crucial difference between “statistical significance” and what Gosset thought of as economically or scientifically “important”. For Gosset, the level of significance depended on the opportunity cost of treating a result as true, plus the opportunity cost of conducting the experiment. The higher those costs, the more certainty was required. ((It was R.A. Fisher who started the nonsense of an absolute threshold for considering a probability “significant”. Gosset would have no truck with such an arbitrary limit.))

In 1909, for example, Guinness bought about 2770 tons of hops, which represented nearly 10% of the cost of production. Gosset had calculated that a 1% difference in the amount of soft resins in the hops increased their value to the brewery by almost 11%. Although his result was not statistically significant, it was important. His estimate of the value of the level of soft resins allowed him to reject about one third of the standard hops that had previously been acceptable to the brewery, greatly increasing the bottom line and proving the value of his statistical methods.

So, why Student’s t-test, rather than Gosset’s t-test? An earlier publication by one of the scientific brewers had revealed some trade secrets, to which the company responded by banning all publications by its employees. Gosset pleaded to be allowed to share his results, and the company finally agreed that its staff could publish as long as any connection with Guinness remained hidden, so that other brewers would not realise that these statistical methods were the foundations of the superior consistency of Guinness. Gosset chose the pseudonym “Student” ((Others chose “Sophister” and “Mathetes” and remain essentially unknown.)) and although it was common knowledge by the 1930s that Gosset was Student, the secret was not officially revealed until after his death in 1937.

Sources:

  • Joan Fisher Box (1987). Guinness, Gosset, Fisher, and Small Samples. Statistical Science, 2. 45–52. http://www.jstor.org/stable/2245613
  • Stephen T. Ziliak (2008). Retrospectives: Guinnessometrics: The Economic Foundation of “Student’s” t. Journal of Economic Perspectives. 22. 199–216. DOI: 10.1257/jep.22.4.199.
  • Stephen T. Ziliak (2011). W.S. Gosset and Some Neglected Concepts in Experimental Statistics: Guinnessometrics II. Journal of Wine Economics. 6. 252–277 10.1017/S1931436100001632.
  • Photo by User Wujaszek on pl.wikipedia – scanned from Gosset’s obituary in Annals of Eugenics, Public Domain, Link

Eat This Newsletter 075 Parochial concerns

  1. If broken eggs can symbolise both a ruined woman and an impotent man, what’s a poor food-art-tour guide to do?
  2. “‘[E]xtreme’ price volatility is typical of agricultural commodity markets," so along comes Hershey to promote more sustainable cocoa, for, y’know, the social good. Nothing to do with acceptably cheap chocolate. The thing I really don’t understand is why, collectively, farmers’ memories are so short.
  3. Jayson Lusk introduces a new series of policy briefs hosted at Purdue University. If you’re looking for information rather than bluster about US food aid and the farm bill, this is a good place to start.
  4. And, staying with the policy wonks, here’s a response to all the critics of that iconoclastic piece about young farmers in the US.
  5. Roman artichokes declared unkosher by Israeli Rabbinate prompt global crisis”. To be honest, though, I have my doubts as to just how global that crisis really is. As for the rabbis, nobody is forcing them to enjoy one of the greatest delights of the current season. They’re just big spoilsports.

And yes, this week’s newsletter is horribly US-centric. Even that final piece came from an American website. I do look elsewhere, honest, and would be delighted to receive your suggestions of good sites to monitor.

Hoptopia How the Willamette valley conquered the world of tasty beer

Brewers have long appreciated the value of hops from the Pacific northwest, but it was Cascade, a variety practically synonymous with craft brewing, that made the area more generally famous among beer drinkers. Cascade was named for the Cascade Range, which runs down the west coast of North America. The home of the Cascade hop is the Willamette valley, roughly halfway between the mountains and the coast. Cascade was released in 1972, but the history of hops in the Willamette valley goes back to the 1830s. The industry has seen more than its fair share of ups and downs, all examined by historian Peter Kopp in his book Hoptopia.

The whole question of changing tastes in beer, and how that affects the fortunes of different hops, is fascinating. If you’ve been a listener forever, you may remember a very early Eat This Podcast, about the rediscovery of an English hop known prosaically as OZ97a. Deemed too hoppy and abandoned when first tried, the vogue for craft beers resurrected its fortunes. It’s a fun story, though I say so myself.

Notes

  1. Peter Kopp’s book is Hoptopia: A World of Agriculture and Beer in Oregon’s Willamette Valley.
  2. Cover photo is Ezra Meeker, the early grower of hops in the Willamette valley who pioneered the global marketing of Oregon hops. The booming hop business made him the territory’s first millionnaire, and perhaps also its biggest bust. Hop King: Ezra Meeker’s Boom Years chronicles that part of his long, rich life.
  3. Banner photo of hops by Paul on Flickr.

huffduffer icon   Huffduff it

Eat This Newsletter 074 The robots are coming

Bayer's Prospero robot

Three chords and the truth

There’s a bit of a roundabout chain to this one. Agricultural Law published Down on the Farm: Nostalgic Ideological Hegemony in the Service of Agribusiness, Big Data, and AI, or, Capitalist Agriculture and Country Music. It’s a fascinating look at several cultural tropes in modern America, most notably two antagonisms; rural vs urban and capital vs labour, triggered by Bayer’s robot farm hands, current code name Prospero, and the company’s imminent takeover of Monsanto. In Bayer’s future:

‘The farmer acts like a shepherd, giving his swarm instructions … Then his robots carry out these orders by communicating with each other through infrared signals.’ [R]obots like Prospero will ‘change the role of a farmer from being a driver to an instructor … [They will] alleviate the physical work of farmers, which gives them more time to focus on the economic part of their business.’

Then follows an unpicking of some iconic country songs that proclaim, loudly and repeatedly, how independent the true American farmer is of all that capitalism.

And, of course, it ain’t necessarily so.

I don’t follow country music religiously, so I had been unaware of Blake Shelton’s Boys ’Round Here, which is a centrepiece of the article, but the Official Music Video is a mini-masterpiece that hinges on that other useful trope, black vs white, for good measure. The song itself is complete tosh, the lyrics banal beyond belief (and don’t just take my word for it) but that’s not the point. The point is the images that it serves up. And the point of the AgLaw article is to question both the images of country music more generally and the deeply suspicious nature of Bayer’s Here’s To The Farmer! campaign. They claim to be fighting hunger across the country. To what extent are Bayer and the other behemoths of industrial agriculture complicit in creating that hunger?

Anyway, that’s what I got out of the AgLaw piece. Then I discovered it was extracted from a much longer piece – Agriculture Wars – by Nick Murray, a former editor at Rolling Stone. And, although I’d never have found it without AgLaw, that’s what I’d suggest you read.

Truth? What’s that?

It’s a common enough complaint that you can’t trust any dietary advice from nutritionists because the science is based on small samples and short-term interventions, and in any case, the advice flip flops every few years. Dariush Mozaffarian (at Tufts University) and Nita Forouhi (at the UK’s Medical Research Centre) try to refute that with an article in the British Medical Journal that looks at the history of nutrition science and how the evidence it produces stacks up against other disciplines. Not surprisingly, they decide nutrition science is up to the task, although they also warn that “Management of vested interests is needed to avoid potential bias in research findings and public messaging of dietary advice”. Right. ((Professor Mozaffarian tweeted that the BMJ brought the article out from behind its paywall “due to strong interest”. Fair enough. I wonder how they plan to put that that genie back in the bottle?))

Now, let’s make this a theme. Are you getting enough iron? Is it the right kind of iron? What can you do about that? NPR’s The Salt has the answers. You may want to take that with a sip of orange juice. But not a cup of tea. Or a glass of red wine.

Maybe none of that matters. What if The great nutrient collapse has actually happened? I’m truly not competent to judge.

And the follow-ups