"Once you put a genetically modified organism into the environment, there's no bringing it back," farmer Percy Schmeiser told a 180-member audience last week at NPO Plaza in Osaka. Invited by organic farming co-ops and various civic groups from across the country, the 72-year-old native of Saskatchewan, Canada, came to Japan to describe his five-year legal battle with biotechnology giant Monsanto.
When the U.S.-based multinational's genetically modified canola was found growing in Schmeiser's fields in 1998, Monsanto filed -- and won -- a lawsuit against him, saying he had infringed on the company's patented canola, which has been altered to resist its widely used herbicide called Roundup. Schmeiser maintains that pollen from Monsanto's modified canola was carried in by the wind from neighboring fields, and that Monsanto is liable for contaminating organic seeds he and wife spent four decades saving and developing.
But Monsanto Canada's public affairs spokesperson, Trish Jordan, is adamant that wind or insects alone cannot explain the high levels of GM canola found in Schmeiser's fields. "Monsanto does not exercise its patent rights in accidental situations," she said in response to an e-mail query. "This was not the case with Mr. Schmeiser. It has always been our belief that he deliberately misappropriated our technology."
The firm initially claimed that Schmeiser stole its seeds, but dropped the charge due to lack of evidence.
Schmeiser, who did not use Roundup in his fields, had no apparent motive for exploiting the high-tech seeds. But the judge ruled that Monsanto's patent had nevertheless been violated, even if caused by drifting pollen, and ordered the farmer to pay Monsanto $98,000 in court costs, as well as the profits from his 1998 crop. The decision was upheld by the Canadian Federal Court of Appeal, but Schmeiser said he will take his case to the Supreme Court of Canada in January.
The trial has attracted international attention because of its broad implications for farmers' rights. Farming communities around the world have been chafing at an increasingly dominant corporate presence in agriculture that is eroding the age-old practice of developing indigenous varieties of seeds through saving, trading and sharing.
Schmeiser's visit to Japan came on the heels of last month's U.S.-sponsored Ministerial Conference on Agriculture and Technology in Sacramento, Calif., where U.S. government officials and agri-business representatives were aggressively promoting biotechnology as a way to improve yields, reduce the use of chemicals and end world hunger.
But outside the Sacramento Convention Center, demonstrators were protesting a technology that many feel has been prematurely rushed to market. With recalls of GM products that escaped government approval, the emergence of herbicide-resistant weeds and the issue of "genetic pollution," some of the unforeseen costs of biotechnology may be surfacing.
"There's more chemical use now, because canola has developed into a new 'superweed,' " Schmeiser explained. Showing slides of canola's intrusion into parks and golf courses, Schmeiser insisted that there is "no such thing" as containment, safe distance or coexistence when dealing with GM products.
Even organic-certification bodies in North America are finding it virtually impossible to certify corn, canola or soy as GMO-free because these crops have already been contaminated by GMOs.
While Japan does not grow GMOs, it imports about 97 percent of its food and is a big market for GMO producers, such as Canada and the United States. But fear of this poorly understood technology has grown alongside the entry of GMOs into the country, and activists, co-operatives and organic-food distributors throughout Japan are proposing an increase in domestic food production as an alternative to consuming them.
But the real issue at stake may be whether anyone can claim dibs on Mother Nature's blueprints. If successful, Schmeiser is hoping his case will halt some of these trends.
"We didn't have anyone tell us in 1996 what would happen," he told the audience in Osaka. "I haven't come [here] to tell people what to do. But at least you still have a choice."
