English farm healing from foot-and-mouth

By 
Reading Time: 4 minutes

Published: July 11, 2002

CALDBECK, U.K. – Ann and David Noble can list the dates of the foot-

and-mouth disease catastrophe off the tops of their heads.

They talk like people who have lived through a disaster, because for

them and their farming community in rural Cumbria in northern England,

the FMD outbreak of 2001 was a devastating plague that threatened their

livelihoods, ravaged the farm economy, turned farmer against farmer and

led to lasting hostility toward government veterinarians.

It’s a year now since the plague passed, and they’re able to chuckle

Read Also

The nose of a CN train engine rounding a corner is in the foreground with its grain cars visible in the background.

Canada-U.S. trade relationship called complex

Trade issues existed long before U.S. president Donald Trump and his on-again, off-again tariffs came along, said panelists at a policy summit last month.

about the bazaar life they were forced to lead, but the Nobles still

have the outbreak at the tops of their minds, like a trauma that they

haven’t recovered from but have learned to live with.

Occasionally anger and disgust flashes when David talks about what he

and local farmers went through in dealing with government veterinary

authorities, who they think were woefully unprepared to deal with the

situation, and who they blame for making the situation far more

traumatic than it had to be.

A sense of betrayal marks everything David says about how the outbreak

was handled. Ann shares these sentiments, even though she once worked

as a government veterinarian fighting bovine spongiform encephalopathy.

Ironically, Ann and David have suffered more than most local farmers

because they were fortunate, if that word can be used to describe their

fate.

Their farm was one of only two in a large area to be allowed to keep

its sheep and cattle, and their animals were never infected by the

disease.

If they had accepted a government compensation offer to exterminate all

their livestock, which was offered to all farmers within a certain

radius of diseased flocks, they could have sat out a season, then

restocked their farm the next year. But David raises pedigreed breeding

stock of a rare breed of high country sheep and he and Ann weren’t

willing to throw their flock away without a good reason.

They lost a flock of 90 yearling females that were being pastured on

another farm, but agreed with that cull because cattle on the farm

became infected.

Foot-and-mouth disease swept into their area soon after the British

outbreak was first noted in an Essex slaughter house, and farm after

farm became infected.

David kept his sheep and cattle in pens and quarantined the farm so no

one could bring in the disease.

That began a months-long term of semi-isolation, in which David only

left the farm once or twice between March and August 2001.

Whenever Ann returned to the farm, bringing their children home from

school and from her job at a local veterinary practice, she would stop

a few hundred metres from the farm and wash the Land Rover with

disinfectant. She and the children would strip off the clothes they

wore in the village and immediately wash them.

Every night on the phone, David and other farmers discussed the spread

of the disease, using pins on a map to track herds. The pins were

steadily marching toward their farm.

During the day he got most of his information from television and radio.

“You were living from one news flash to the next, then going out to see

if your animals were OK,” David said. “It was absolutely paranoid.”

Ann said her skills as a vet helped them quickly assess suspect animals

on the farm, but that didn’t stop momentary panics.

“Anything that seemed odd made your heart race,” she said.

The government had declared a kill zone for animals within three

kilometres of an infected flock, so when a nearby farm’s flock became

infected, their sheep and cattle were ordered destroyed.

But Ann and David fought the order, arguing that the infected animals

were outside the zone.

They won their appeal, their animals eventually proved negative for FMD

infection, and the plague passed.

But saving their sheep and cattle brought a social cost. One local

family was outraged by Ann and David’s decision to fight to keep their

livestock, and they say that family will still not speak to them.

Feelings grew heated between many farm families who began blaming each

other for the spread of the disease in their area.

“A lot of things were said and done that will never, ever be

forgotten,” David said.

But while farmer relationships are slowly healing, they said there is

still general anger against the government’s actions.

The outbreak was at first dealt with far too cautiously, then far too

brutally. Ann blames government cutbacks to the state veterinary

service.

“It has been so run down over the last few years that there were just

not enough staff to deal with it,” she said.

One vet from her practice went to work for the state veterinary service

during the emergency, but for the first couple of days, instead of

being sent to diagnose and destroy infected herds, was put on a backhoe

digging pits to bury animals.

“What a waste,” Ann said.

At the same time, upset farmers were calling her office, begging for

someone to come and kill their infected animals, which were suffering

horribly from the disease.

At the beginning, even if a vet diagnosed a flock or herd with FMD,

they weren’t allowed to destroy it until they had scientific

confirmation from London. Then, once the flock or herd was destroyed,

it wasn’t disposed of for up to two weeks.

“Imagine what that’s like for a farm family, not allowed to leave the

farm, seeing their prize herd of cattle lying out back rotting. That’s

hard on a farmer. That’s hard on the children,” Ann said.

“They (the veterinary service) just didn’t seem to have any contingency

plans.”

Ann and David said the situation got better once the army was sent in

to clear up the mess, but it wasn’t ordered in for weeks after the

outbreak began.

Things are getting back to normal in the high Cumbrian region where

they farm. It’s still oddly sheepless for an area that normally has

white puffs of wool scattered all about the hills and moorlands that

characterize this area. Repopulation will take some time.

David said the scars will take years to heal. And he thinks Canadian

farmers should see what has happened to them and take heed.

“If there’s an outbreak, farmers will be treated like criminals.

They’ll be treated like idiots,” he said.

“Canadian farmers do not want to go through this.”

He said Canadian farmers should pressure their government to be tough

on import controls, because FMD can only come into countries such as

the United Kingdom or Canada from infected foreign lands. And they

shouldn’t trust the government to be prepared for a crisis and be able

to look out for their interests.

“At the beginning they really didn’t seem to take it that seriously.

Then they didn’t seem to know what to do,” he said.

About the author

Ed White

Ed White

Markets at a glance

explore

Stories from our other publications