This morning, while walking our two young dogs, we ran into a new neighbor, a really nice guy around the corner who was spraying Roundup on the weeds by the curb and who confessed that the only reason he was working on his yard was he didn't want to have a worse lawn than his neighbors, and frankly, he didn't really care.
We laughed — because that's exactly the same reason we work on our lawn. And all that neighborly peer pressure adds up. The "turfgrass" industry in the United States is now huge, accounting for 822,849 jobs, $57.9 billion in spending, and $2.4 billion in indirect taxes to state and local governments. All that money spent on weeds and seed flows around to stimulate demand for other products and services, such as the stuff you sell, so by fertilizing your backyard you're in effect boosting your own paycheck.
This demand is all relatively recent; 50 years ago selective herbicides didn't exist and Americans left their lawns green or yellow, weeds and all. It's remarkable, really, to think that a multi-billion dollar industry can spring up in a single generation for a good as common as the green stuff you walk on out back. The fad may pass; concerns about the environment have led to pesticides being outlawed in Canada, and water shortages make running sprinklers more expensive. Wired's recent Peak Water report notes that aquifers are beginning to run dry in the United States, Britain meets the World Bank standard of a water-stressed region, and so to keep up with demand Western water companies are toying with sci-fi ideas such as seeding clouds and towing icebergs from the Arctic.
As for us, we're avoiding lawn chemicals because our silly puppies eat grass. This year we'll use a spade to kill dandelions, no herbicidal sprays, and will cut back on the sprinkler.
That may hurt the economy, and our lawn may have some yellow spots — but maybe, as this catches on, our neighbors will simply breathe a sigh of relief.
