Last week I had the good fortune to be in the audience of the inaugural Edible Institute in Santa Fe. This was an entire afternoon of panel discussions about food and sustainable agriculture. Some brilliant journalists and big thinkers were in that room, and I enjoyed hearing what they all had to say, but the most memorable was a Georgia cattle rancher by the name of Will Harris, whose wit and wisdom were delivered in a charming southern drawl. (You can hear him telling his story on Edible Radio.)

He started by telling the audience that he loves his cows and calves as much as we love our cats and dogs. He's the fifth generation to own and work White Oak Pastures Farm, land his great grandfather bought in 1866. His cows are descendants of his great-grandfather's cows. These are deep, serious roots we're talking about.

Will went to university to study agriculture, and at university he learned to do things differently than his grandfather and great-grandfather had. He was told the smart way to farm is to dump a lot of chemical fertilizers on your grass and pump your animals full of antibiotics and hormones. It didn't always feel right, but when you're taught to do things that way in a university, the tendency is to accept that these learned people know best.

However, as he approached the wisdom of mid-life and watched the animals he loved get trucked away to a slaughter house, the niggling feelings got stronger. They were loaded onto a two-level truck so that the calves on top had to urinate and defecate all over their brothers, sisters and cousins on the bottom. They faced a long road trip with no food, water or opportunity to rest along the way. And Will decided he just didn't like that, and he wasn't going to do it anymore. Without going backwards, he was going to practice a style of farming that more closely resembled what his grandfather had done. He was deciding to go against the grain of conventional agriculture and make a way that sat comfortably with his values, his love of the land and his respect for his animals. (That's why you should care.)

So  he decided to raise cattle that were all grassfed, because grass is healthier for the animal and better for our environment. He also decided to slaugther them at home on the ranch, building an expensive slaughterhouse so they didn't have to suffer the stress of traveling. Will says he kicked the chemical habit so the cows could eat an organic diet. "I've never done cocaine," he says, "but I thinking using chemical fertilizers is the same kind of thing." At first it feels good, real good. But as time goes by you need more and more to get the same effect. You're spending a lot of money. You tell yourself you could quit any time you wanted to, but the truth is that you're dependent on the stuff.

This farmer uses some of the best similes I've ever heard. "Using chemicals to fertilize your farm is like pissing in your pants to stay warm." Short-term comfort, but eventually you're much unhappier than you started.

So that's just a little bit about this quirky, charismatic farmer—an inspiration to anyone who values personal integrity over following convention. If you want to hear him talk about bathing with alligators and plying journalists with wine, tune in to Edible Radio.