What My Father’s 1989 Research Teaches Us About Food Systems Today
A trip back home comes around full circle
Author
James Bernard
This weekend, I found myself back in Athens, Ohio, visiting family, including my dad Ted Bernard, a retired geography professor at Ohio University. I ended up on an unexpected journey through time that connected my childhood and teenage experiences in Kenya to the work I do today at Global Impact Collective.
A Research Trip I'd Almost Forgotten
My family lived in Nairobi during two stints in the 1970s and 80s while my dad conducted long-term research on agricultural systems in Kenya's Meru region and beyond. This weekend, he reminded me of something I'd nearly forgotten: in 1987, when I was 19, I joined him on a research trip to interview farmers in Meru.
Those interviews became part of groundbreaking research that landed on the cover of National Geographic Research in 1989. I'd never actually read the article until this week. When I finally did, I was stunned by how prescient it was.
The Question That Still Matters
My dad and his colleagues — David Campbell and Derrick Thom — wanted to know if four arid and semi-arid regions in Kenya (Meru, Kitui, Machakos, and Kajiado) were producing enough food to support their rapidly growing populations.
They analyzed this through three technology scenarios, though in the 1980s, on-farm “technology” was not what we think of it today:
Level I: Traditional subsistence farming with minimal inputs
Level II: Moderate development with access to credit, markets, and technological innovations for farm equipment
Level III: Best available agricultural technology with optimal management and credit
Their conclusion was sobering: without dramatic improvements in agricultural technology, resource access, and population management, millions would face deepening poverty and food insecurity. They projected Kenya's population would reach 35 million by 2000.
What Actually Happened
They were both right and wrong.
Kenya's population hit about 30 million in 2000 — below their projection, due partly to successful family planning programs and, tragically, the HIV/AIDS epidemic that peaked in the mid-1990s at 10% prevalence.
But here's what should concern us: Kenya's population has since nearly doubled to 58 million . The four counties my dad studied experienced even higher proportional growth, with all the pressure that entails on increasingly fragile agricultural systems. Nearly 37% of the population is undernourished with devastating effects for children under 5.
The Challenges That Persist
Reading through recent research, I was struck by how many of the 1989 study's core challenges remain unresolved:
Land Fragmentation: A 2024 study found 48% of land subdivisions in Kenya now produce plots less than a quarter acre — too small for productive farming. In these same regions, 84% of farmers work less than one acre.
Technology Gap: That three-tier framework? Still relevant. Fertilizer use in Kenya averages just 20 kg/ha — creating a critical nutrient gap. Only 25% of farms are mechanized. Just 7% of agricultural land is irrigated. Most farmers remain stuck between Level I and II.
Climate Amplification: Everything my dad's team predicted is now compounded by climate change. Recent studies in Makueni County found three extreme meteorological droughts in just three decades, with hydrological drought persisting for over eight years.
What's Different — And What Gives Me Hope
I've worked in Kenya over the last decade, and I've seen both the challenges the 1989 researchers predicted and some genuine innovations:
A devolution of national power to the local level (post-2013) created new governance structures for local adaptation — with mixed but promising results
Digital platforms now deliver climate information and market linkages that weren't imaginable in the 1980s
International climate finance provides resources my dad's generation never had access to
We now recognize biodiversity and ecosystem services as essential to resilience, not afterthoughts
Most importantly, we understand that solutions must be locally led and community-driven — not imposed from outside.
Why This Matters for Our Work
At Global Impact Collective, we work at the intersection of multi-stakeholder partnerships, corporate sustainability, and human-centered (read: farmer-centered) design in food systems. Reading my dad's research reminded me why this work matters and what we risk if we don't get it right.
The fundamental equation hasn't changed: growing populations + fragmented land + limited technology access + climate change = crisis.
But neither has the solution: we need to meet farmers where they are (Level I or II) and create pathways through partnerships, financing, technology, and policy to help them access Level III practices that work in their specific contexts.
The Personal Becomes Professional
It took me many winding career turns to come back to food systems. This weekend felt like a full-circle moment, from interviewing farmers in Meru as a college student to now working on sustainable food systems transformation with teams across East Africa and beyond.
The researchers in 1989 provided concrete data showing what failure would look like. Thirty-five years later, we're living in that future, but we also have tools, knowledge, and partnerships they couldn't have imagined.
The question isn't whether we can solve these challenges. It's whether we'll move fast enough and work collaboratively enough to do it at the scale required.
What my dad's research really taught me: the problems are structural, the timeline is urgent, and the solutions require the kind of patient, evidence-based, community-centered work that too often gets overlooked in favor of quick fixes.
That's the work worth doing.
