Grass
Warfare
By
GWENDOLYN BOUNDS
The Wall Street Journal
July 7, 2007
Is what you put on your lawn your own business? Growing local
movements say using pesticides is a choice that affects the whole
neighborhood. The battle over how 'green' your grass should be.
Finally
the grass is greener on my side of the fence.
I've
spent the past year converting my lawn to organic care. After
some early setbacks, my lawn looks pretty great, and the only
herbicide I've used is an all-natural corn substance that's safe
enough for my dog to eat.
The
same scene is playing out in yards around the country -- but it's
not a peaceful transition. As the organic lawn movement grows,
so are tensions in some communities. The latest front is over
whether lawn-care methods are the horticultural equivalent of
secondhand smoke: a choice that affects the whole community. Neighborhood
activists argue that using pesticides on one lawn exposes everyone
nearby to the chemicals, including kids and pets.
Enthusiasts
are trying to shame their neighbors into joining them with pro-organic
lawn signs, prompting some residents to apply their chemicals
covertly. Homeowners who want to stick with pesticides say how
they groom their lawns is their own business. Even spouses are
facing off over which comes first -- eliminating chemicals or
creating a dazzling no-fuss lawn. The lawn-care industry, meanwhile,
is walking a tightrope, hoping to profit from organics without
turning against their traditional products.
In
Wisconsin, the village of Whitefish Bay has become a microcosm
of the new turf wars. Intent on switching the community over to
an organic approach, a citizens' group is hanging tags on residents'
doors urging them to lay off pesticides and posting "All
Living Creatures Welcome" signs in their own yards.
"It's
really dicey, and some people are receptive and some are hostile,"
says Sandy Hellman, age 37, a member of the Healthy Communities
Project. "I look at it as the secondhand-smoke issue. Kids
run back and forth between the yards and windows are open all
the time."
Organic
supporters say data are slowly building to cause concern. Last
year, researchers at the Harvard School of Public Health found
that individuals reporting exposure to pesticides had a 70% higher
incidence of Parkinson's disease than those not reporting exposure.
The report notes that among individuals who are not farmers, the
significant association is "most likely explained by use
of pesticides in home or in gardening."
That
study echoes findings of a Parkinson's-pesticide link in men reported
last year by the Mayo Clinic. There have been other studies, including
one in the Journal of the American Veterinary Medical Association,
suggesting that exposing dogs to some herbicide-treated lawns
and gardens may increase their chances of developing cancers.
The
pesticides used in lawn-care products found on shelves nationwide
are considered legal by government standards. But broader research
on health risks from such chemicals has prompted general warnings.
The Environmental Protection Agency, which regulates pesticide
use, notes on its own Web site that kids are at greater peril
from pesticides because their internal organs and immune systems
are developing.
In
addition to the scientific debate, lawn care is also highlighting
questions about personal-property rights. Some critics say the
organic push is a nanny-state attempt to tell people what they
can do on their own land.
Ms.
Hellman's group convinced Whitefish Bay officials to stop spraying
pesticides on medians near an elementary school, but didn't initially
get funding for the pricier organic weed-control or fertilizer
products. When dandelions returned in droves, neighbors balked,
fearing the seeds would spread to their properties. Money was
later approved to hire an organic lawn-care service, but not soon
enough for some residents.
"I
don't want those weeds -- that's the bottom line," says Gloria
Tylicki, who has written Whitefish Bay town officials complaining
about the organic results near her home. She hires a service to
spray her lawn with herbicides three times a year, and doesn't
like the trend of neighbors telling her what to do on her own
property. "Can I not plant a certain flower because someone
blocks away doesn't care for that?"
Elsewhere,
similar battle lines are being drawn. This spring, 7-foot billboards
were erected on the platforms of New York area railroads depicting
a young father standing on the lawn of his home, cradling his
young daughter. The caption: "I've got one great reason not
to use chemicals on my lawn." The ad campaign was part of
a larger pesticide reduction program being pushed by the Grassroots
Environmental Education organization, a Port Washington, N.Y.-based
nonprofit.
Fundamentally,
"going organic" simply means getting grass and soil
healthy enough to crowd out weeds without pesticides, the umbrella
term for chemical substances that destroy unwanted pests or weeds.
(A herbicide is a pesticide targeting plants; an insecticide kills
insects.) Pesticide opponents say homeowners unwittingly bring
the toxics into homes via shoe soles and pet feet, tracking it
into carpets where kids play. They also worry about runoff into
streams, rivers and groundwater -- and into their own yards.
Organic
supporters also advocate using natural fertilizers instead of
synthetic ones. Most packaged fertilizers contain three key ingredients
-- nitrogen, phosphorus and potassium -- which are listed in a
familiar N-P-K ratio. In organic versions, the nutrients come
from plant, animal or mineral sources, such as blood meal, seaweed
extract, bone meal and sulfate of potash. Because the soil's microorganisms
must first digest the organic nutrients to make them useful to
the grass, it takes longer to get that dark greening effect many
homeowners are accustomed to seeing after they fertilize. A 3,000-square-foot
lawn costing $200 to treat traditionally might be double using
organic solutions, at least initially.
Currently,
nothing on the market annihilates existing weeds as fast as chemical
solutions. So while many people like the idea of going organic,
they don't so much like living with some weeds while they convert.
"We used to accept a few weeds," says Jay Feldman, director
of Beyond Pesticides, a nonprofit group that runs the National
Coalition for Pesticide-Free Lawns. Now, uniform swaths of green,
weedless grass are the standard. The rise of pesticides, says
Mr. Feldman, "redefined our aesthetics."
In
some cases, families themselves are split about whether to switch.
Last year, Mary Beth Nawor of Highland Park, Ill., marched through
town in a Fourth of July parade promoting safer pesticide use.
"It was all the women taking the info we had and the men
brushing us off," she says. But that wasn't the biggest surprise.
When Ms. Nawor later recounted to her husband how a friend had
marveled at their chemical-free lawn, he sheepishly admitted to
putting down an herbicide.
"It's
a point of pride for men," says Ms. Nawor, a high-school
environmental-science teacher. "They like to be out there
showing their grass off."
Andrew
Sprung of South Orange, N.J., grew his lawn from seed and uses
a four-step annual lawn program that includes pesticides and fertilizers.
His wife wants him to stop using chemicals, he says, and he's
moderated a bit. Still, he says, "I find it hard to believe
that the legal chemicals I drop on my lawn in moderate quantities
is harming anything."
Today
the organic movement is a bright growth spot in an otherwise lackluster
$24 billion U.S. lawn and garden market, growing at double digits
over the last five years while overall sales stagnated in 2006,
according to Marketresearch.com. This January, Scotts Miracle-Gro
launched its first organic lawn fertilizer. It has a natural bio-herbicide
in development and aims for half its product line to be naturally
derived in coming years. The nation's largest lawn-care company,
TruGreen-ChemLawn, this year shortened its name to just TruGreen,
in part to deflect criticism about its pesticide use. Home Depot
is carrying organic landscape products in every store, and executives
insist they are here to stay.
But
the split in public sentiment makes it tricky for companies to
navigate the divide. Homeowners often tell professionals they
want organic products, says TruGreen's chief marketing officer,
Vic Yeandel, then complain when it costs more or takes longer.
"They say, 'I don't want the weeds to grow -- do you have
a weed control that is not a pesticide?' And the answer is, 'No,
we don't.' That defines what the issue is.'"
To
try to make everyone happy, In Harmony Sustainable Landscapes
in Bothell, Wash., offers three tiers of weed programs: "No
Weeds," "Minimum Pesticides," and "Completely
Organic." When new customers call up, co-owner Mark Gile
says he subtly encourages the latter two programs.
Community
peer pressure is one thing. It's another to mandate organic care
by law. In 2001, Canada's Supreme Court ruled that the nation's
communities can restrict cosmetic pesticide use on private as
well as public property. To date, more than 129 have done so.
That
ruling mobilized the U.S. pro-pesticide movement like never before
both on a grassroots and legislative levels, says Allen James,
president of the Responsible Industry for a Sound Environment,
a trade group representing makers and suppliers of pesticides
and fertilizers. "Canada was the warning shot for us,"
he says.
Partly
due to RISE's efforts, today all but nine states currently forbid
local lawmakers from enacting such residential bans, because it
would pre-empt state laws.
As
a result, organic activists to date have instead concentrated
on getting pesticides banned in public properties where municipalities
have control. Just last month, Connecticut extended a ban on lawn
pesticides through the eighth grade. Currently at least 20 U.S.
towns have pesticide-free parks and several hundred school districts
have laws or policies designed to minimize kids' exposure to pesticides.
Such
actions unnerve homeowners such as John Schmaltz in Cromwell,
Conn., who fears private property could be next. He sees a hypocritical
undercurrent to organic lawn enthusiasts' pleas. "People
put on deodorant, perfume and cosmetics, and who's to say about
those?"
Given
homeowners' passions, things can get tense. Philip Dickey runs
the Washington Toxics Coalition, a Seattle-based environmental
health organization, and estimates his group has distributed nearly
5,000 Pesticide Free Zone signs with ladybugs on them. To get
a sign, homeowners must promise to speak with at least three people
about organic care. On the coalition's Web site are talking tips,
including playing the kid card (they often run barefoot on grass)
and avoiding a "holier-than-thou attitude."
Still,
not-in-my-backyard brawls do surface, Mr. Dickey says. "I
got a photograph back from a guy who put up a pesticide-free sign
and his neighbor then put up a sign that said Hazardous Material
Storage. There is no dialogue going on there." Nor in Harvard,
Ill., where Andrew Cook showed his neighbor a note from his wife's
doctor explaining she was highly sensitive to pesticides. No dice,
his neighbor refused to change her lawn-care regimen. Mr. Cook
then aimed one of the ladybug signs squarely at her house. "You
can only lead a horse to water," he says.
To
keep peace for now, some homeowners are brokering their own land
resolutions. Tihamer Toth-Fejel uses no lawn-care treatments whatsoever
on most of his Ann Arbor, Mich., yard, but throws down an herbicidal
Weed and Feed product on the portion abutting his neighbor's property
so "he won't think I'm trying to infect his perfect lawn."
Jim McNicholas of LaGrange, Ill., asked his organic neighbor to
tell him when she's going on vacation so he can spread fertilizer
without strife. And in Lyndhurst, Ohio, city councilman Joe Gambatese
agreed to hire Good Nature Organic Lawn Care to treat his own
home turf for a three-year trial after residents there pushed
for pesticide reductions. So far, he says, "my yard looks
fantastic."
As
for my block, a couple of acres separate me from my neighbors
so they haven't had to witness my battle with the weed brigades.
After a frustrating summer fighting dandelions and plantains,
last fall I plowed up the lawn, replanting it with new grass seed
and 1,400 pounds of organic compost.
That
did the trick. My grass was among the first up in my area this
spring, which helped choke back any weeds. I spread corn gluten
meal, a natural pre-emergent herbicide, just as the forsythia
began blooming and have spent only a few hours total hand-weeding.
As for fertilizer, this year I'm trying a worm waste product from
a company called Terracycle as well as Scotts' new Organic Choice
lawn food. I left a swath of old lawn for comparison and so far
the difference is notable. In the meantime, there's not much to
do other than mow.
