What Is Your Garden Worth?

Away from my garden, retreating in Martha’s Vineyard, MA, I came upon this thought.

A gardener uses all his senses — sight, smell, sound, touch, taste — and works within all dimensions — length, width, height/depth, density, time. Not to mention energy and soul. These variables intersect (interact) in observable and intangible ways to impose order on chaos, form on nature, compromise over competition, justice over power, knowledge over ignorance, passion over apathy, enrichment over paucity, artfulness over randomness, delight over despondency. Both solace and community draw gardeners to others’ gardens and welcome visitors to their own. Commoners and commodores exchange successes and failures; all are equal in the garden.

Gardening and the Economy

So what of “agriculture”? It is not a topic for aesthetic gardeners but for economists. It extracts value from the earth akin to mining, drilling, fishing and forestry. We mortgage our fields against their calculated yield. Gardening, on the other hand, has no measurable value. Agronomy supports our priceless folly.

Shall we leave the economy behind? The ideal of self-sufficiency promises an escape from market tyranny but we are so dependent on our interconnected systems that only delusions or extreme dedication — emphasis on cult-like extremism — could possibly break the grip we’re in. At best, we can disengage at the margins. Very few can afford the luxury of being truly “off the grid.” This is not pessimism but realism. Face it: we want the things we want. The real challenge is properly accounting for them. The market lobs unwanted costs into the future for some other accountant to deal with.

Cost/Benefit Accounting

Recognizing true costs is a starting point. Now, let’s measure value. One way economists measure it is by the cost/benefit ratio (smaller numerator or larger denominator is better). The cost/benefit of agriculture is labor plus materials over market value of the harvest. That leads us to calculate the cost/benefit for gardening as the labor and materials divided by an unfathomable benefit — for there is no market value of a garden, especially where there is no harvest. Now the problem is conventional economics.

This is not a unique dilemma. For example, we have no market value for life itself and we cringe when actuaries propose one. We have no market value either for dancing, blowing bubbles, reading to a child, laughing or mourning.

Toward a New Equation

Assuming there are two roles engaged in the valuation: gardener and observer; we can determine the value of a garden, and gardening, thus.

Assign values to these inputs:

  • cost1: the materials the gardener purchases
  • cost2: labor the gardener purchases and/or begrudges (annoyance costs)
  • benefit1: how much it makes observer want to be in it, in Attraction Units (Au)
  • benefit2: how much it makes gardener want to do it, in Au

You might assume the value is higher for the observer/visitor because his is all Attraction Units and no costs (other than opportunity costs). Forget this math — the value of benefit2 can far exceed total costs and the gardener is also an observer of her own garden (benefit1). So, the most valuable context is being both an observer and a gardener and the proper math is:  (cost1 + cost2) – (benefit1 + benefit2 )/(benefit1 + benefit2). This can be reduced to cost per Au, which in the ideal, approaches zero. Or something like that… (Deej: how do I keep the numerator from going negative?)

I could muddy the waters with daffodils (tulips, roses, peas, etc.) grown for sale. Back to the cash crop equation. And what of an arboretum vs. a nursery. How much is a 300 year old conifer worth — the value of its lumber? Some things the market cannot know. We must choose how we value things.

I am sitting in the sunny front room of our retreat house. The circling shadow of a bird in flight crosses the table in front of me. My garden grows without me.

5 Responses to “What Is Your Garden Worth?”

  • Deej:

    I finally got to the latest blog entry and found a question directed at me! How nice!

    Regarding the proposed formula:
    (cost1 + cost2) – (benefit1 + benefit2 )/(benefit1 + benefit2)
    the question was how to keep the numerator from going negative. First, let’s save some typing and improve clarity by using c1, c2, b1, b2.

    Now I believe you need parentheses, because as writen this yields
    (c1 + c2) – (b1 + b2)/(b1 + b2) = (c1 + c2) – 1 and the b’s are irrelevant. This erroneous reading is easily fixed:
    ((c1 + c2) – (b1 + b2 ))/(b1 + b2)
    and the formula appears to provide ratio of the cost-benefit difference over the total benefit, which sounds like what you meant.

    I agree that you generally want such a ratio to be positive. We also need to stipulate that c1, c2, b1, b2 are all greater than or equal to zero. Now it is easy. Just take the absolute value.

    The result:
    |(c1 + c2) – (b1 + b2)| / (b1 + b2)

    Now this is equivalent (moving the absolute value bar to the end) to
    |(c1 + c2) – (b1 + b2) / (b1 + b2)|, or (dividing through by (b1 + b2))

    |(c1 + c2)/(b1 + b2) – (b1 + b2)/(b1 + b2)| = |(c1 + c2)/(b1 + b2) -1|
    and I think you have a problem because I doubt you intended to just subtract 1 from the standard cost/benefit ratio. But check me on this…

    I love your intro paragraph!

    DJ

  • Michael Waddell:

    Hmmm. Do follow up!

    • Deej:

      At first I typed this: you need to compare observor c and b separately from gardner c,b, then combine the results. I’ll do some paper and pencil stuff and then type back at you. But the more fundamental problem is that addition and division don’t really work until you get the units right, and you rightly point out that the actuarial approach of translating everything to dollars is pretty much doomed from the outset as far as human values are concerned.

      But then I changed my mind. I got thinking about Maurice Merleau-Ponty’s essay Eye & Spirit on science and painting from the phenomenological being-in-the-world viewpoint. The gardener as observer (“see-er” below) cannot be separated from the gardener as mud-slinger just to make the math work. From Eye & Spirit, below. I substituted “gardener” for “painter”:

      ‘The gardener “takes his body with him,” says Valery. Indeed we cannot imagine how a mind could garden. It is by lending his body to the world that the artist changes the world into paintings. To understand these transubstantiations we must go back to the working, actual body—not the body as a chunk of space or a bundle of functions but that body which is an intertwining of vision and movement.

      The enigma is that my body simultaneously sees and is seen. That which looks at all things can also look at itself and recognize, in what it sees, the “other side” of its power of looking. It sees itself seeing; it touches itself touching; it is visible and sensitive for itself. It is not a self through transparence, like thought, which only thinks its object by assimilating it, by constituting it, by transforming it into thought. It is a self through confusion, narcissism, through inherence of the see-er in the seen, the toucher in the touched, the feeler in the felt—a self, then, that is caught up in things, that has a front and a back, a past and a future.’

      So where does that leave the math? Well, first we need to think about how different the gardener/observer and the (mere?) observer are. Is there really a mere observer?
      Once this strange system of exchanges is given, we find before us all the problems of gardening. These exchanges illustrate the enigma of the body, and this enigma justifies them. Since things and my body are made of the same stuff, vision must somehow come about in them; their manifest visibility must be repeated in the body by a secret visibility. “Nature is on the inside,” says Cezanne. Quality, light, color, depth, which are there before us, are there only because they awaken an echo in our body and because the body welcomes them.

      I think the observer, in observing the garden in the way you contemplate, becomes a gardener on the inside. You actually participate in the garden. If so, we have one relevant entity to consider, the gardener/observer, with two intertwined roles. But no, wait, that cost difference that you mention must be considered: “gardeners on the inside” don’t have to pay for their internal perennials. Hmm. More work to do.

  • I confess to being a word-thinker not a number-thinker… love the philosophical and economic settings-out of thought and reason… and the intellect and emotion — poetry — of your final paragraph.

    A factor not mentioned in the worth of gardens is value to the environment, nectar for pollinating bees, for butterflies, foraging food for birds… what else? But how to measure I do not know. xx the voice from England

    • Michael Waddell:

      You’re stating the obvious economic (countable) context: Presumably birds and bees would be just as happy in a unkempt field of milkweed, dandelions, chokeberries and ajuga.