Have to say I agree with this article.
The True Price of Exploited Farmworkers
Rest at link.
Mark
The True Price of Exploited Farmworkers
Every so often, when the conversation veers toward the societal costs of illegal immigration, one can almost predict the emergence of a tired refrain, delivered with all the sincerity of a child rehearsing lines for a school play. “Who will pick our crops?” they ask, as though this plaintive wail were some profound economic insight rather than the rhetorical equivalent of a fig leaf hastily employed to cover up moral abdication. It’s a question designed not to spark a discussion on the issue, as you’ll often find they can’t discuss much further than that line. It’s brought up as a rhetorical device, not to initiate a discussion on illegal immigration, but to silence it, cloaked in the garb of economic pragmatism while quietly reeking of complacency. This is the anthem of those who defend a system built on frailty, fear, and the exploitation of the vulnerable—all while pretending it’s the unshakable bedrock of our prosperity.
You see, the “Who will pick our crops?” argument is as much an economic analysis as claiming that duct tape is a cure-all for a crumbling building. It’s the plaintive cry of those who see fragility and confuse it with resilience—who believe that patching a failing system is somehow equivalent to reforming it. Like a chorus that repeats despite its discordant notes, the 'Who will pick our crops?' refrain resurfaces in every discussion on illegal immigration. It’s less an inquiry than an incantation—a talisman against the specter of reform. After all, genuine reform might require actual work—difficult choices, ethical consideration, and—dare I say—a bit of courage. Instead, we are left with hand-wringing over the fate of our fruit bowls, which is as persuasive as a foghorn in a string quartet.
So let’s have a look on this topic that so many raise and so few actually explore and at least for those reading this, retire this excuse and expose it for the unserious drivel that it is.A Convenient Excuse for Exploitation
The appeal to “Who will pick our crops?” rests on the laughably thin premise that undocumented workers must remain trapped in a cycle of underpayment and exploitation, lest the rest of us face the unthinkable calamity of marginally higher grocery bills. It is an argument so devoid of moral or economic seriousness that one wonders how it has managed to persist in any forum where rational thought is expected. Far from being a defense of economic necessity, it is a convenient justification for preserving a system reliant on voiceless, disposable labor.
And let’s not ignore the obvious parallels. My critiques here apply equally to the H-1B visa system, where corporate interests dress up exploitation as benevolent necessity. The same voices advocating for undocumented farm labor often sing a similar tune in defense of H-1B workers, championing systems designed to suppress wages and strip power from workers—all to line corporate coffers. While the mechanics may differ, the outcome is eerily similar: a preservation of comfort for a select few at the expense of justice for many.
For now, let us focus on agriculture, where the argument for exploitation takes on its most cartoonishly thin veneer of economic pragmatism. Let’s examine the actual numbers behind this charade. In farm labor, wages typically account for less than 10% of the retail cost of food. That’s right—if your apple costs a dollar, the labor required to pick it amounts to a mere dime. Now imagine doubling the wages of farmworkers, allowing them to earn a living wage. What happens? That apple now costs $1.10. Ten cents. A rounding error in a world where retail markups, fuel costs, and global trade disruptions wield far greater influence on prices.
The argument that increasing farmworker wages would somehow collapse the agricultural industry is not just fragile—it’s transparently absurd. It’s akin to building a house of cards and claiming it’s an architectural marvel. The only thing propping up this delusion is a collective willingness to ignore its glaring vulnerabilities. In reality, this defense is so thin that a light breeze of scrutiny sends it tumbling into irrelevance.
But of course, that’s the point, isn’t it? The “Who will pick our crops?” refrain isn’t about seeking solutions—it’s about stifling conversation. It’s an argument employed not to address the issue but to deflect from it, to avoid the uncomfortable truth that a system predicated on the exploitation of the vulnerable is neither sustainable nor just. And as with the H-1B system as I’ve covered before (here, here, here, here, here and podcasted here) the real winners are not the workers or even the consumers, but the corporations that profit from the status quo while cloaking their greed in the language of necessity and even humanitarianism.
The question, then, isn’t whether we can afford to pay farmworkers fairly. It’s whether we can afford to continue pretending that we can’t.
You see, the “Who will pick our crops?” argument is as much an economic analysis as claiming that duct tape is a cure-all for a crumbling building. It’s the plaintive cry of those who see fragility and confuse it with resilience—who believe that patching a failing system is somehow equivalent to reforming it. Like a chorus that repeats despite its discordant notes, the 'Who will pick our crops?' refrain resurfaces in every discussion on illegal immigration. It’s less an inquiry than an incantation—a talisman against the specter of reform. After all, genuine reform might require actual work—difficult choices, ethical consideration, and—dare I say—a bit of courage. Instead, we are left with hand-wringing over the fate of our fruit bowls, which is as persuasive as a foghorn in a string quartet.
So let’s have a look on this topic that so many raise and so few actually explore and at least for those reading this, retire this excuse and expose it for the unserious drivel that it is.A Convenient Excuse for Exploitation
The appeal to “Who will pick our crops?” rests on the laughably thin premise that undocumented workers must remain trapped in a cycle of underpayment and exploitation, lest the rest of us face the unthinkable calamity of marginally higher grocery bills. It is an argument so devoid of moral or economic seriousness that one wonders how it has managed to persist in any forum where rational thought is expected. Far from being a defense of economic necessity, it is a convenient justification for preserving a system reliant on voiceless, disposable labor.
And let’s not ignore the obvious parallels. My critiques here apply equally to the H-1B visa system, where corporate interests dress up exploitation as benevolent necessity. The same voices advocating for undocumented farm labor often sing a similar tune in defense of H-1B workers, championing systems designed to suppress wages and strip power from workers—all to line corporate coffers. While the mechanics may differ, the outcome is eerily similar: a preservation of comfort for a select few at the expense of justice for many.
For now, let us focus on agriculture, where the argument for exploitation takes on its most cartoonishly thin veneer of economic pragmatism. Let’s examine the actual numbers behind this charade. In farm labor, wages typically account for less than 10% of the retail cost of food. That’s right—if your apple costs a dollar, the labor required to pick it amounts to a mere dime. Now imagine doubling the wages of farmworkers, allowing them to earn a living wage. What happens? That apple now costs $1.10. Ten cents. A rounding error in a world where retail markups, fuel costs, and global trade disruptions wield far greater influence on prices.
The argument that increasing farmworker wages would somehow collapse the agricultural industry is not just fragile—it’s transparently absurd. It’s akin to building a house of cards and claiming it’s an architectural marvel. The only thing propping up this delusion is a collective willingness to ignore its glaring vulnerabilities. In reality, this defense is so thin that a light breeze of scrutiny sends it tumbling into irrelevance.
But of course, that’s the point, isn’t it? The “Who will pick our crops?” refrain isn’t about seeking solutions—it’s about stifling conversation. It’s an argument employed not to address the issue but to deflect from it, to avoid the uncomfortable truth that a system predicated on the exploitation of the vulnerable is neither sustainable nor just. And as with the H-1B system as I’ve covered before (here, here, here, here, here and podcasted here) the real winners are not the workers or even the consumers, but the corporations that profit from the status quo while cloaking their greed in the language of necessity and even humanitarianism.
The question, then, isn’t whether we can afford to pay farmworkers fairly. It’s whether we can afford to continue pretending that we can’t.
Mark
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