How a Taiwanese food and agriculture magazine survived 22 years without paying contributor fees
Foodthink says
I. Three Fortuitous Encounters
Between 1993 and 2003, I moved from the city to the countryside in Taiwan, where I lived for ten years. During this decade, I worked with local villagers to establish associations and launch initiatives such as stream protection, local landscape renovation, Hakka cultural and historical surveys, community education, and weekend cultural markets.
This rural experience sparked my desire to move from “community work” into the broader field of agriculture, rural development, and farmers—after all, local industry and economy are indispensable to rural progress. This laid the foundation for the original intention behind founding Qing Ya Er.
Another significant driver in founding Qing Ya Er was my acquaintance with farmers at an agricultural supply store in Taichung. Following the “921 Earthquake” in 1999, I became involved in post-disaster reconstruction in the Taichung region, where I met many local farmers and practitioners in the agricultural supply industry.
I discovered that these fruit farmers were highly skilled, capable of precisely controlling fruit sweetness and the growth cycles of their trees. As early as 1975, some farmers had successfully grafted Japanese pear scions, creating a burgeoning grafted pear industry that generated an annual economic benefit of up to 4 billion TWD (approximately 1 billion RMB at the exchange rate of the time) for the region.
However, these brilliant achievements came at a staggering cost: long-term reliance on pesticides and chemical fertilisers led to soil degradation and environmental destruction, posing a severe threat to farmers’ health. During pesticide spraying, the air would be shrouded in toxic mists, and many farmers passed away from liver cancer around the age of 50.
These experiences led some farmers to reflect on the drawbacks of conventional agriculture. A few of them joined forces to open an agricultural supply store called “Three-in-One Supplies”. They largely stopped selling pesticides and refused to oversell chemical fertilisers; instead, they went into the orchards and, like doctors, personally “diagnosed” the condition of the trees to provide farmers with scientific planting advice. They also promoted a “year-by-year reduction” of pesticides, gradually cleaning up the environment.
Witnessing their excellence and sense of responsibility, I felt deeply that these stories deserved to be recorded, and that more people needed to hear their voices and share their experiences.
As an educated person, the best I could do was use writing and publishing to give farmers a voice and explore a new path for the development of agriculture and rural areas.
Driven by these catalysts, Qing Ya Er was born.
II. Three Aspirations
In both Taiwan and mainland China, the farming profession has long seemed to lack the respect it deserves; even farmers themselves often look down upon their own work.
If asked, “What do you do?”, many farmers find it difficult to admit they are “fruit growers” or “vegetable farmers”. This pained me deeply—the labour and achievements of farmers are clearly the most vital foundation of society, yet they are ignored and undervalued.
My second aspiration in founding Qing Ya Er was to present a true picture of rural life.
Before 2003, the general public in Taiwan paid very little attention to the countryside. Rural resources were constantly being siphoned off by cities, and populations were dwindling, leading to a state of decline. Meanwhile, urbanites’ impressions of the countryside mostly came from romanticised promotional images—vast rice paddies and tranquil hamlets—making it look like a beautiful pastoral painting.
Having studied sociology, I knew that such a depiction of rural life was not real. I wanted to record the daily lives and problems encountered in the villages, presenting an unfiltered reality of the countryside so that we could all work together to improve it.
At the time, the term “organic agriculture” was barely mentioned in Taiwan, so I used “green agriculture” to express my philosophy. The publication of Qing Ya Er was merely a means to an end; my true focus was to promote the healthy development of agriculture, rural areas, and farmers, and to establish a symbiotic relationship between the city and the countryside.
Through this publication, I hoped to provide a platform for exchange for those interested in these issues, while also serving an educational and promotional purpose. To achieve these goals, Qing Ya Er established four main columns:
• “Alternative Perspectives”: Sharing cutting-edge concepts and explorations in the agri-food sector
• “Green Shoots Everywhere”: Recording new agricultural experiments emerging from various regions
• “Global Horizons”: Introducing agricultural experiences and models from abroad
Over the past twenty years, *Green Shoots* has published many articles across these five columns. I can say with pride that I was one of the first authors in Taiwan to introduce new agri-food practices such as “slow food”, “community-supported agriculture” (CSA), “farmers’ markets”, and “eco-tourism”.
III. Manuscripts and Funding
Later, I realised this goal was difficult to achieve. Many farmers have great ideas and deep farming experience, but they are not used to putting pen to paper; or rather, they have had little affinity with writing. They feel that writing a hundred words is far more taxing than carrying two sacks of rice.
Consequently, our primary authors became younger “agri-food workers”. Most are university or postgraduate graduates with frontline experience who care about these issues and are able to write stories about themselves and others.
It is very difficult for Taiwanese farmers to organise and make their voices heard; most existing agricultural organisations were established or assisted by the government. There are some non-governmental groups focused on agri-food, such as the “Taiwan Housewives Union Consumer Co-operative” (hereafter the Housewives Union) and “Upstream News & Market” (hereafter Upstream).
Initially, the Housewives Union had twenty to thirty thousand members. However, the outbreak of food safety scandals in 2007-2008, such as ractopamine and melamine-tainted milk powder, caused membership to surge to between 80,000 and 100,000. Many new members were not necessarily interested in agriculture; they simply wanted clean food. Therefore, the Housewives Union has continued to train new members to increase their awareness of agri-food issues and the co-operative spirit.
Upstream has also done excellent work. Their editors are professional journalists, many of whom are graduates in sociology or anthropology. Not only do they provide news and in-depth investigations into public issues surrounding agriculture, food, and the environment, but they also serve as a supply platform for small-scale farmers, providing consumers with healthy, local food.
The authors of *Green Shoots* are mainly agri-food workers. For them, the process of writing is not just about sharing, but about organising and clarifying the journey of their own or others’ life practices. Some authors had never written an article before; upon seeing their work published in *Green Shoots*, they felt immense joy, even without a writing fee.
Someone once asked me, “Ah Wei, how have you managed to keep this going for twenty years?”
Actually, I don’t feel like I’ve been “struggling” or “persisting”. If it had truly been a hardship, I would have given up long ago. That I have unexpectedly made it to this day is thanks to the support and help of countless people along the way. This support has come from the authors who contribute to the magazine and the readers who quietly sponsor it; they provided the two most vital material conditions for running a publication: manuscripts and funding.
When I invite people to contribute, many agree, and so I have become Taiwan’s biggest “creditor”, with people owing me manuscripts all over the place.
I am quite flexible with my requirements for manuscripts. I often tell authors, “If you dare to write 50,000 words, I dare to publish 50,000 words.” Of course, the point is not the word count, but rather that I hope they write with sincerity and vividness, telling their stories in a complete and rich manner.
Even when unexpected situations arise—for example, if four or five out of ten commissioned articles fail to materialize—I can quickly find friends to fill the gaps. For this, I must thank the contributing authors for ensuring that *Green Shoots* has never lacked content.
On the other hand, there is the issue of funding.
I want *Green Shoots* to be a pure publication that serves farmers, not a commercial magazine. We print 1,000 copies per issue, of which seven or eight hundred are distributed free of charge.
Since the magazine itself is free, its operation has always relied on sponsorship. Our principle is: if you like *Green Shoots* and have the means, please donate; if you don’t, we will give it to you for free. Additionally, we generally do not accept donations from farmers, students, or those whose ideologies do not align with ours. The operational expenses of the magazine consist primarily of printing costs, postage, and a small amount of miscellaneous fees.
I had once set myself a psychological threshold of NT$100,000 (approximately 22,000 RMB)—if losses exceeded this amount in a single year, we would cease publication the following year. Over the last seven or eight years, despite a general economic downturn, losses never surpassed this limit, and so we carried on.
Now that we have entered the era of digital reading, the magazine faces the challenge of transitioning from print to electronic format.
*Green Sprout* has always insisted on print distribution. For one, I prefer the tangibility and concreteness of printed publications; for another, it is far more accessible for farmers. We specifically use a large font size, allowing farmers to read the content easily without needing reading glasses.
In recent years, with the help of several new volunteers, we have also begun uploading the magazine’s content to the online platform ‘Vocus’.
Since January 2022, our volunteers have held online discussions on the first Monday of every month to determine that month’s theme. We then curate all related articles from the past 100 issues of the magazine and post them on ‘Vocus’ for readers to access free of charge.
IV.“Various New Things Emerging”
These reflections translated into practical action, leading to the creation of ‘Tusheng Liangpin’ by the Guangxi Ainong Association and ‘Tusheng Shiguan’ in Yunnan.
The ‘Tusheng Liangpin’ restaurant in Liuzhou began with a focus on local produce and gradually evolved into a socially influential rural practice. While the direct connection to *Green Sprout* may seem tenuous, I feel that its inspiration was, in some way, linked to this publication.
In Taiwan, too, many young people are willing to move to the countryside to engage in ecological farming. Some are second-generation farmers who inherit family land, which they then restore and transition towards ecological agriculture. Others must rent land in rural areas.
Renting land is never easy. If you spend three whole years improving the environment and cleaning up the soil, only for the lease to expire and the land to be reclaimed, all that effort vanishes into thin air.
Against this backdrop, some have begun exploring new models of agricultural development, integrating young people aspiring to ecological farming with available land—such as Lai Ching-sung, who promotes friendly farming in Yilan and has led many young people into agriculture.
Initially, Lai Ching-sung introduced the Japanese ‘Gudong Club’ model to develop Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) in Yilan—where ‘Gudongs’ (supporters) prepay for their grain, sharing the risk of natural disasters with the producer.
Experience showed that operating the Gudong Club was incredibly difficult; the pressure of managing hundreds of supporters alone was immense. Consequently, Lai Ching-sung decided to pivot, focusing more of his energy on attracting young people to farming.
Through long-term relationships with local farmers, Lai Ching-sung earned their trust, and they became willing to entrust him with the management of their land. This land, in turn, provided young farmers with opportunities for learning and practice. He also collaborated with ‘Two Hundred Chia’, founded by Yang Wen-chuan, a PhD from the Graduate Institute of Urban and Rural Studies at National Taiwan University. Yang is responsible for teaching agricultural techniques to the youth and finding ways to resolve their land issues.
Later, the model of providing unpaid assistance also revealed some flaws. Consequently, a few years ago, they established ‘Slow Island Life Ltd’, which charges certain fees for its services to ensure the entire system can operate sustainably.
Over the past twenty years, Lai Ching-sung has guided three to four hundred young people into the agricultural sector in Yilan, with over a hundred participating in Shengou Village alone. As the older farmers gradually retire, young farmers take over their land and techniques. A new farming community is gradually taking shape, injecting fresh vitality into the entire countryside.
Within the agri-food sectors of Taiwan, Hong Kong, and mainland China, many similar new explorations are underway.
Regardless of what the future holds, I firmly believe that social progress is driven by the collective effort of many tiny forces like *Green Sprout* and people who work with sincerity and diligence. Though small, they are like wild grass—growing stubbornly alongside new developments, bringing about further change through subtle, gradual influence.
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Unless otherwise stated, images were taken by Foodthink
Compiled by: Xiao Mao
Edited by: Ze En