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Making the grade

Reading Time: 3 minutes

Published: May 25, 2006

WEYBURN, Sask. – Judy Hart’s workday is measured out in 1,000 gram samples.

As a grain inspector checking rail car loads, her accuracy determines Canada’s reputation for quality grain.

“We might have a 98 percent correct rate through the grading, but that two percent mistake could mean 50 rail cars in a row that are wrong,” said Hart.

“It’s humans grading grain.”

She is one of dozens of Canadian Grain Commission employees who work at the country’s ports and on the Prairies checking the grade of cereal, oilseed and pulse shipments to help ensure the customer gets what was ordered.

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Hart is operations supervisor at the Weyburn service centre, one of nine centres the commission operates on the Prairies. Two others work with her, repeating a methodical process hour after hour. If the inspectors have to go to one of the loading spots within a 150 kilometre radius of the office, their day could start at 6 a.m. and run until 10 at night.

After the inspectors collect a representative sample from several points during the loading of an elevator holding bin or a rail car, they spread it out on a mat under lights that are set at a consistent strength. While grading, they look for weed seeds and contamination such as deer excreta, glass and ergot bits. The sample is also tested for moisture and protein content and weight. Every fifth rail car load sample is tested for insects.

The results and all identifying information for the rail cars are written on sheets and filed away and the 1,000 gram samples are then labelled and stored in plastic containers in the office for 60 days, which should be enough time for the load to be shipped to the customer. Grading questions are referred to the grain commission – but higher than Hart’s level.

She has been grading grain for nine years and said most of the training came on the job. The first lesson for a grader is to compare colour, shape and size using the official grain grading guide, which stacks up as thick as a mug of coffee.

Hart had the advantage of farming with her father for 15 years and working as a crop adjuster before being hired by the commission.

“I knew grain to hold it in my hand. I couldn’t tell extra spring from hard red wheat. Most farmers couldn’t.”

Grain company elevator agents do similar work but on a broader scale and their role is to make money for their company by blending various grades.

Occasionally an agent will dispute a commission inspector’s grade, but Hart said in those cases the inspectors must be firm, not be intimidated and know their stuff.

One change that Hart has seen is the drop in the number of elevators in the country, from 3,000 to 300. That has meant elevators seldom serve as storage facilities but more as transfer points, calling in farmer’s grain just before a train arrives for loading. Producer cars are another new wrinkle and Hart has been encouraging farmers to bring samples in for grading before shipping so they know what they have. She would like to see the grain commission do even more work with grassroots farmers.

As an inspector, she never knows whose grain she is checking and she doesn’t want to know.

“I’m grading the grain, not grading the farmer. I also don’t watch what the grain sells for. I don’t want it to bias me. It is what it is.”

Another change in the grain business has been competition to the grain commission. Two multinational companies are also grading grain on the Prairies, sometimes undercutting the fees the grain commission charges.

Also, many grain inspectors are reaching retirement age. Whether they will be replaced or the grain industry develops a “black box” to do objective testing of grain is debatable, but Hart is not worried about her job changing. Even if a machine tester is developed, she said there will always be a need for humans to calibrate the machine and analyze the results.

In the meantime, Hart will continue her 40 minute commute from Fillmore, Sask., each day. Her husband used to farm but now works as a bricklayer. They are countering the rural depopulation trend by staying in the small town. They prefer knowing everyone in the community for friendship’s sake and as a safe place to raise their son.

About the author

Diane Rogers

Saskatoon newsroom

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