On an eco-farm, people are like weeds: the more they grow, the better

Every garden possesses its own theory of beauty

and its own moral conception of happiness.

—— Santiago Berrueyet, *Philosophy in the Garden*

●Tianfuyuan Biodiversity Farm, Beijing, where weeds and vegetables coexist in symbiosis. There are over a hundred species of weeds on the farm. Image source: Foodthink

Strangely enough, it was “weeds” that first drew me to ecological farming. Firstly, weeds as a problem. As a student of sociology and anthropology, I spent nearly a year conducting fieldwork in rural areas. I noticed that while chemical fertilisers and pesticides brought welcome yields, the management of weeds, pests, and diseases remained a constant headache for farmers. In some cases, the excessive use of herbicides only seemed to make the weeds more resilient.

Secondly, weeds as a method. I have been an environmentalist since childhood, believing that “nature abhors a vacuum”; I would rather see paved empty lots reclaimed by weeds.

Finally, weeds as an identity. I have always been drawn to the inclusive ideal of “beauty in harmony”. From another perspective, ecological farming is like a weed: it challenges existing cognitive boundaries. And I, too, am such a weed.

By a stroke of luck, during my internship at Foodthink, I visited over ten ecological farms. My old confusions were resolved, and my mind and spirit were filled with new experiences and inquiries.

I. A Diverse “Ecosystem”

The immense diversity in the backgrounds and experiences of ecological farmers was my first impression of this community. Most are “new farmers” who have returned to their hometowns to start businesses—ranging from seasoned urban professionals to idealistic young graduates. Their professional backgrounds are incredibly eclectic; beyond agriculture-related disciplines like agronomy, biology, and engineering, many come from fields entirely unrelated to farming.

Driven by varied motivations—the pursuit of a scholar-farmer lifestyle, food safety, ecological conservation, or the creation of homes and communities—each practices ecological farming through their own unique lens. This vision attracts people from all walks of life, transcending the geographical boundaries of production to build a shared “ecosystem”—a garden overgrown with weeds.

●In 2019, dozens of ecological farmers from across the country attended a conference co-organised by Foodthink, the Beijing Organic Farmers’ Market, and the Development College of the China Agricultural University. Image source: Foodthink

Compared to conventional agriculture, the management of ecological farms allows for a far greater degree of freedom.

Conventional agriculture appears to offer many choices, but the result is a growing dependence on pesticides and chemical fertilisers, while producers lose control over their means of production and technical knowledge.

Ecological agriculture sets a baseline: no chemicals or GMO seeds are permitted. Instead, it relies solely on biological and physical methods to cultivate healthy soil and farm ecosystems, enhancing crop yield and resilience. As for how to harmonise with nature, there is no single, fixed formula. This freedom entails challenges, risks, and responsibilities, but it is also where creativity flourishes.

●An aerial view of Zhiliangtian Ecological Farm, located on the edge of the Tengger Desert.

A colleague once said, “Every farm is a physical manifestation of the farmer’s own ideals.” I couldn’t agree more. It is not just about the farming method; the location, land planning, scale of cultivation and livestock, choice of crops, infrastructure, and labour investment all require careful consideration. After all, beyond economic viability, ecological farms embody a deeper quest for meaning.

Starting on one’s own ancestral land, provided there is understanding and support from family, brings a sense of stability to both production and life. Conversely, choosing a location in an unfamiliar place offers a broader canvas upon which to sketch a blueprint from scratch.

II. Machines or Manual Labour?

In the Foodthink office, I have often heard my colleagues say that organic farms in Beijing are fiercely competitive. In this regard, Xiqing Farm and Xiao Liushu Farm are both prime examples, yet they present a very interesting contrast. Xiqing Farm has only two greenhouses and a mere five mu of land. Aside from hiring casual workers and interns during peak periods, it relies mainly on the owner, Xin, who does everything himself. Dozens of crops are grown inside and outside the greenhouses, each occupying a small area, with not an inch of land left idle. Clearly, in such a cramped space, there is little room for machinery to be effective.

● The meticulous cultivation of Xiqing Farm’s five mu. Below is Lyu Lu, an intern at Xiqing Farm.

What struck me most was that Xin has to climb onto the roof of the greenhouses every day to make adjustments. In summer, he adjusts the plastic sheeting; in winter, he deploys and retracts insulation blankets. During heavy wind, rain, or snow, even a man as strong as Xin can be left exhausted.

I felt perplexed: why not use automated controls for the greenhouse film?

Lyu Lu, the farm intern, explained that Xin insists on the precise control of the micro-environment’s temperature and humidity, which is crucial for pest and disease prevention. A farmer must operate the machinery through keen perception and real-time judgment to ensure that different crops receive the optimal light and moisture.

● Climbing onto the roof to make adjustments marks the end of a day’s work. Image source: Beijing Organic Farmers’ Market

Xiao Liushu Farm, which also focuses primarily on vegetable cultivation, is quite different.

Across Xiao Liushu’s 80 mu, most of the planting is done in open fields except for a few greenhouses. With only Liu and four workers as the labour force, the demand for machinery is naturally much higher.

These plots are divided into roughly regular beds along the production roads, with different seasonal vegetables planted in each. Some plots remain idle after the previous season’s harvest. In the height of summer, weeds seize every opportunity to spring up. However, Liu has his own labour-saving method: he sets wider row spacings than typical farms to allow mini-tillers to operate more easily, shredding the weeds to be used as compost.

● Liu and his workers stringing lines for new seedlings.

When we arrived at Xiao Liushu Farm last June, Liu was leading several workers in stringing lines for new seedlings to secure them later; it took several explanations before the workers fully grasped Liu’s instructions. Afterwards, Liu stated bluntly: farmers nowadays are increasingly losing the knack for farming. The difference in production methods between the two farms relates to how each owner views human labour versus automation.

Xin’s ideal is a world of meticulous small-scale farming, where human labour possesses a sensitivity and flexibility that machines lack. Liu, on the other hand, believes that humans are the least reliable element and seeks every possible way to ‘replace people with machines’.

III. Production and Life

Purely production-oriented farms like Xiqing and Xiao Liushu have no space for accommodation or cooking; working there is much like going to an office. They are exceptionally plain, devoid of any ornament other than the plots, greenhouses, and storage sheds. But for other fellow farmers, a farm is not just a place of production, but a place of living, making a pleasant farm environment particularly important.

● Tang Liang and his family working among the flowers. Image source: Foodthink

In March 2024, I attended my first offline sharing session hosted by Foodthink. I vividly remember a photograph shown by Tang Liang, a farming friend from Sichuan, depicting his family working amidst a sea of flowers. A “garden-style farm” is designed not only to improve the ecosystem and deter pests, but also as a lifestyle aesthetic, subtly ensuring that everyone remains in high spirits while they work.

Sister Yan Ping’s Happiness Fruit Herb Garden in Guangxi and Sister Yu Hu’s Zero Farm in Yunnan have already taken on the character of a “food forest”.

Although the initial design and construction phases require significant effort, as the farm’s ecosystem matures, the need for human intervention diminishes. By replacing scalability with diversity, the food forest creates a tiered vertical structure of canopy, shrubs, herbs, and ground cover, leaving very little room for machinery to be useful.

At Zero Farm, only the lawnmower proves practical. At the Herb Garden, the only piece of machinery is a modest electric utility vehicle. Outside of the peak harvest seasons, the daily routine involves simply strolling through the farm, providing necessary care, and foraging for crops or wild greens for meals—a practice that also maintains a human presence within nature. Here, labour and life merge into one; it is simultaneously a form of recuperation and a spiritual practice.

● Sister Yan Ping and Guangzhou ecological farmer Wang Pengcheng at the Herb Garden.

● Sister Yu Hu leading us on a tour of Zero Farm.

The aforementioned ecological farms are primarily sole traders or family-run operations. Other farms, however, possess more complex functional zoning, staff structures, and spheres of influence—such as the Little Donkey Citizen Farm, Phoenix Commune, Yuefeng Island, and Lexian Valley Community Farm.

Beyond the production areas, these farms offer spaces for lodging, indoor and outdoor activities, member plot rentals, and more diverse ecological landscapes. This, in turn, tests the farm’s core management philosophy.

The larger and more complex a farm becomes, the harder it is to maintain the intimacy of a family-run operation. They must redefine their relationship with society and the market. The choice they face is whether to move towards corporate, commercialised, and scaled-up operations, or to preserve a cooperative economy and social participation as much as possible.

As one of the pioneers of ecological agriculture in China, Little Donkey Citizen Farm possesses the deepest historical accumulation. Upon entering Little Donkey, I was first struck by its ecosystem: the fusion of farmland, forest, wetlands, and environmentally friendly living felt like a microcosm of a pastoral ideal.

● The small garden at Little Donkey Citizen Farm.

The garden-style landscape provides rich ecological niches not only for nature’s creatures but also for members of society. The participation of various actors—local farmers, consumers, volunteers, and entrepreneurs—in the co-construction of the farm acts as a “weed-like” force, allowing Little Donkey to evolve into a layered series of “gardens within a garden”.

Members’ small vegetable plots are scattered throughout, and the farm has leased larger areas to clients, resulting in a variety of creative spaces, including edible gardens, workshops, and nature education centres, each with its own unique charm.

It is hard to imagine that when Little Donkey was founded, it relied on a dual-track approach of “delivery shares” and “labour shares”, with most of the land still undeveloped. After two difficult transitions, it abandoned the home-delivery model to focus on becoming a citizen farm centred on agricultural experiences and educational demonstrations.

● The citizen vegetable plots at Little Donkey.

Another path it once attempted to take—commercialisation—temporarily shook the conceptual foundations of Community Supported Agriculture (CSA).

If one focuses solely on providing standardised products and services to cater to increasingly discerning consumers, they will inevitably pale in comparison to large-scale fresh food suppliers. More importantly, such a path sacrifices the deep engagement, communication, trust, emotional connection, and conceptual education between producer and consumer, and between people and the land.

Perhaps ecological agriculture can never, and should never, become a plantation, but should instead remain a weed-overgrown garden.

● The Beijing Organic Farmers Market, held every Saturday at the Shangri-La Hotel, serves as a cooperative mutual-aid network for eco-farmers and consumers from around Beijing. Image source: Beijing Organic Farmers Market

In reality, ecological farms can never be perfect. Under the pressures of the market, ecology, community welfare, and human relationships prove quite fragile when faced with profit. Yet, it is precisely this vulnerability that inspires the vision of creating a haven; through cooperation and mutual aid, like-minded individuals build a more resilient social ecology, finding common ground while respecting their differences.

Four

After visiting a dozen or so ecological farms, I have come to feel that they possess a life of their own. At the start, each is a seed, carrying the ideal of a better life. Then, it grows stumbling and unevenly, testing its limits against the surrounding environment. Adjustments to planting and livestock plans, the cultivation of soil and ecology, adaptation to climate change, and shifts in business models—all have left their mark.

While these experiences may leave the farm’s progress somewhat imperfect, they also draw together a greater diversity of life paths, fostering a mindset of all-embracing tolerance and patient cultivation. Through trial, error, and adjustment, farmers help more suitable species take root in the land; through the land’s bounty, producers establish trust and connections with consumers, drawing them away from the dinner table and the marketplace towards the very source that nourishes their lives.

Like the weeds and the trees, people grow alongside the garden.

Foodthink Author

Anael

A Master’s student in Anthropology specialising in rural and agricultural studies. Her interests drift between political economy, multi-species relationships, and the intersection of emotion and morality. She aspires to be a practitioner of rural community development and ecological construction, seeking new possibilities for connection within the overgrown Anthropocene.

Unless otherwise stated, all images are by the author

Editor: Ze’en

I. A Diverse “Ecosystem”

II. Machines or Manual Labour?

Published by Foodthink