First Fighting Science: The Ojibwe Take on the University’s Wild Rice Research Program
March 10th, 2004
By Archived Story
Wild rice is a sacred plant to the Ojibwe in Minnesota. Some say prophecies told the Ojibwe to move westward, leading them here to the sustenance of wild rice. Others will tell you a man named Nanaboozhoo failed to bring home a deer for dinner one night; but later followed a duck to a lake full of wild rice, giving him food when there was nothing else to eat. As Winona LaDuke, Anishinaabekwe (Ojibwe) member, has written, “We have always cared for the wild rice, as it is one of the greatest gifts given to our community.”
But many Ojibwe are concerned wild rice research done at the University of Minnesota will tamper with their culture and even infringe upon sovereign treaty rights.
This story begins nearly 200 years ago. But we’ll start in 1990, when the University’s plant breeder requested researchers to study how to make wild rice efficient for cultivation. They were interested in a trait of rice called shattering. That’s when the seed matures and falls off the stalk.
“If you’re trying to grow wild rice to harvest the grain, you don’t want it to fall off,” said Ron Phillips, director of the Center for Microbial and Plant Genomics. Phillips was in charge of mapping the wild rice genome.
Simple things like rainstorms could knock half the seeds off a natural plant. That could leave harvesters with half their yield and possibly without a profit.
But high profits aren’t what worry the Ojibwe. The possible outcomes of the University’s research do.
Phillips, along with other researchers, mapped the wild rice genome in 1999. With that map, they can tell what types of rice are resistant to shattering.
They do this by using markers on the genome to predict what seeds they should breed. This process doesn’t involve genetic engineering.
“We’re just doing a modern day version of classical genetics,” Phillips said.
He said the University’s research will benefit many parts of the world. Countries facing starvation may benefit because the University is producing a crop easily grown on a mass scale. This could make it easier to feed developing countries.
As Phillips defends his research, the Ojibwe still fear it could lead to patents of wild rice, something that’s already been done in California.
Intellectual Property
When scientists create a new plant from two original species, it’s possible the new breed will be patented, along with the two species used to create it. That was the case when a rice company in California named Norcal created a new breed of rice.
“We think patents should be for things like toasters; not life,” said Sarah Alexander, an organizer of the White Earth Land Recovery Project, a group heavily involved in the dispute.
Hypothetically, if a patented breed of rice was released in nature and invaded a small farm, the patent owner could sue the farmer for not obeying patent laws, even if they unknowingly grew the new breed.
Seed company Monsanto has sued 100s of farmers whose fields were contaminated by patented seeds, Alexander said.
But patents are somewhat of a necessity said Phillips.
He said, “Patents are healthy for innovation and getting products from the bio lab to the field because there’s a lot of developing and commercialization that has to occur.”
But he said they carry a negative impact on developing countries because those governments may not be able to afford to pay for patented seeds. Those seeds are often the easiest to obtain.
Here in Minnesota, a patent could infringe on a treaty dating back to 1837 between the U.S. government and Ojibwe. Article 5 of the treaty says the Ojibwe have the right to cultivate wild rice in what is essentially the land north of Interstate 94.
If a company patented a breed of wild rice in that region of Minnesota, the Ojibwe could be sued for harvesting it. That’s when the treaty would be infringed upon.
Alexander fears this will happen due to hybridization between University grown paddy rice and natural lake rice.
Pollen from University rice paddies could travel to lakes full of natural rice. Hybridization between the two could occur when this happens.
Phillips said there is little chance of hybridization as long as approximately 660 feet separate the two plants.
However, Joanna Cregan, a graduate student in plant biological sciences, has done research at Itasca State Park showing how wild rice pollen can travel as far as two miles from where it left its plant.
This may be troublesome because the ‘U’ has a wild rice research station in Itasca State Park, which is directly between the White Earth and Leech Lake Reservations, homes to Anishinaabe (Ojibwe) people.
Phillips supports having the two types of rice separated but also said hybrid plants probably wouldn’t be very competitive in nature. For instance, since the breeds they produce don’t easily drop their seeds, it would be unlikely for them to reproduce.
Diversity vs. University
Fears of University rice dominating natural strands still linger. The University’s wild rice is grown in a monoculture. This separates it from other types of rice and makes it less genetically diverse.
“Biodiversity insures we’ll have wild rice every year because if disease affects one type of rice, there will be others to choose from,” Alexander said.
If one strand dominates, there might not be others to choose from.
If a hybrid dominates natural lake rice, some of the benefits of wild rice could be lost.
For instance, Dan Gallaher, professor of food science and nutrition at the ‘U’, is now studying how wild rice can combat high cholesterol and diabetes. Studies like this may end if portions of the original rice are lost.
As far as hybrids go, it could be argued that Native Mesoamericans did something with corn that’s very similar to what Phillips does with rice. Early corn looked much different than it does today, according to Kurt Thelen, professor of crop and soil sciences at Michigan State University. But over a thousand year period, Native Mesoamericans chose desired traits within the corn in order for it to be larger and more sufficient when feeding a family. That’s similar to the classical genetics Phillips is taking part in at the ‘U’.
Cash Crop
Paddy rice has flooded the market since University research began. This caused the price of natural wild rice to plummet, putting a roadblock on the Ojibwe’s ability to make a living from their crop said Jill Doerfler, a research assistant in the University’s American studies program. She said a public university should try to help everybody in the general public, not the few people owning paddy rice farms. About 44 paddy farms exist in Minnesota.
Money has been one of the many controversies surrounding this issue. LaDuke wrote that the University conducts their research to benefit from a $20 million paddy rice market.
“I don’t think so,” said Phillips, “I don’t know where the University’s benefited a penny from it.”
A large portion of the genome research was funded by USDA grants, according to the University Records and Information Management Department. Some money came from rice growers who taxed themselves to continue research; however, the University doesn’t benefit from what those growers produce, Phillips said.
A rumor circulated that large seed companies Monsanto and Pioneer Hi-Bred underwrote the genome research. The rumor began after two of the genome researchers went to work for these companies after the project was finished.
“It’s not true and it never was true,” Phillips said, “Those companies have absolutely no interest in rice.”
But that doesn’t satisfy Alexander. She said if Monsanto focuses on wild rice production in the future, the University’s researcher will be there to use the genome information.
Today
Perhaps what is most overlooked in this dispute is the Ojibwe’s culture.
“The ways in which the research agenda itself excludes alternate ways of understanding is implicitly racist,” Doerfler said.
She said the University doesn’t consider the Ojibwe’s spiritual connection with wild rice as being relevant. It’s often cast aside as superstition.
So what this adds up to is a question of whether scientific progress has the right to encroach upon a society’s culture and beliefs. This has been hotly debated throughout much of the world for the past decade. But the question will become more pertinent in Minnesota as people realize this isn’t a homogenous society.



