Some books age like old machinery: fascinating, historically important, but not something you would necessarily want to use today. The Waste Products of Agriculture: Their Utilization as Humus is different. Published in 1931, it still feels oddly fresh because it tackles a problem that has only become more urgent: how do we farm without wasting fertility?
At its heart, this is a book about compost. But that undersells it. Albert Howard and Yeshwant D. Wad were not simply writing a manual for making manure heaps behave themselves. They were arguing for a different way of seeing agriculture: not as a linear system of extraction, production and disposal, but as a cycle in which residues, dung, urine, weeds, leaves, crop waste and animal bedding are returned to the soil as humus.
For anyone interested in regenerative agriculture, organic farming, market gardening, pasture livestock, agroecology or the history of farming, this book is a little gem. It sits close to the roots of the organic movement and helps explain why compost, soil organic matter and closed nutrient cycles became such powerful ideas in twentieth-century farming. Howard and Wad’s central claim is simple: agricultural “waste” is not waste at all. It is misplaced fertility.
The book is also a product of its time. It was written in colonial India, under British imperial administration, and some of its language and assumptions now need careful handling. Yet its practical insight — that healthy farming begins with the intelligent return of organic matter to the soil — remains deeply relevant.
Full title: The Waste Products of Agriculture: Their Utilization as Humus
Authors: Albert Howard and Yeshwant D. Wad
Original publication date: 1931
Publisher: Humphrey Milford, Oxford University Press
Genre/category: Agricultural science, composting, soil fertility, organic farming history, regenerative agriculture precursor
Length: Google Books lists the original as 167 pages.
Historical context: The book was published at a time when artificial fertilisers, mechanisation, colonial agricultural research stations and export-oriented farming were reshaping agriculture. It also appeared before Howard’s better-known An Agricultural Testament of 1940, often regarded as a foundational text of the organic movement.
Originally written for: Agricultural researchers, colonial administrators, extension workers, farmers, smallholders and those interested in improving soil fertility through locally available materials.
The title page of the uploaded edition gives the authors as Albert Howard, then Director of the Institute of Plant Industry at Indore and Agricultural Adviser to States in Central India and Rajputana, and Yeshwant D. Wad, Chief Assistant in Chemistry at the same institute. It also confirms the 1931 Oxford University Press publication details.
Sir Albert Howard was born in 1873 and died in 1947. He is widely remembered as one of the most influential early advocates of organic agriculture. David R. Hershey’s article on Howard and the Indore Process notes that Howard studied at Wrekin College, the Royal College of Science, South Kensington, and St John’s College, Cambridge. He worked in the West Indies and England before spending much of his most important professional life in India, including as Imperial Economic Botanist and later Director of the Institute of Plant Industry at Indore.
Howard’s reputation rests not only on his technical research but on the way he connected soil fertility, composting, crop health and farming systems. He later developed these ideas further in books such as An Agricultural Testament and The Soil and Health. The 2025 Cambridge paper by Tad Brown describes him as having helped popularise the translation of “Eastern” practice into “Western” agricultural science, while also noting that his reputation as the “father of organic agriculture” is debated by historians.
Yeshwant D. Wad is less famous than Howard, which is a shame, because the title page makes clear that he was a co-author, not merely a background assistant. He is listed as Chief Assistant in Chemistry at the Institute of Plant Industry, Indore. Given the book’s attention to carbon-nitrogen ratios, nitrification, decomposition and the chemistry of composting, Wad’s role was likely important, though modern sources often place Howard in the spotlight.
Howard was influenced by practical observation, soil science, Indian agriculture, Chinese and Japanese farming practices, and the work of earlier writers such as F. H. King, author of Farmers of Forty Centuries. The book repeatedly contrasts Western industrial agriculture with what it sees as more enduring Eastern systems of fertility recycling.
However, modern readers should be alert to the colonial setting. Howard and Wad wrote from within British imperial agricultural institutions. Some passages describe Indian cultivators through the lens of colonial administration and improvement. Historian Gregory Barton has argued that Howard did not simply derive his ideas from romantic admiration of peasant wisdom; rather, he approached Indian farming through scientific observation and experimentation, and the Howards’ private writings sometimes reflected paternalistic colonial attitudes.
That does not invalidate the book’s technical insights. But it does mean we should read it with both appreciation and historical awareness.
The Waste Products of Agriculture is a practical and scientific account of the Indore composting method. Its basic argument is that farms should systematically convert vegetable and animal residues into humus and return that humus to the soil.
The authors open with a striking complaint: modern crop production wastes fertility. They criticise the exploitation of virgin soils and dependence on purchased artificial manures, arguing instead that farms should first make full use of their own by-products.
The book then develops four big ideas.
Howard and Wad reject the idea that crop residues, weeds, fallen leaves, dung, urine earth and animal bedding are rubbish. In their view, these materials are the raw ingredients of future fertility.
The authors argue that crop improvement and plant breeding cannot reach their full potential unless soil conditions are improved. In the preface, they state that improved varieties alone may increase yield modestly, but improved varieties combined with better soil conditions can produce far larger gains.
The Indore method is presented as a systematic “compost factory”. It is not just a heap in the corner of a yard. It is a managed biological process involving mixing, watering, turning, aeration and timing.
The book’s wider philosophy is circular: the farm should recycle its residues, animals should help process rough materials, manure should be preserved, and the soil should be fed with humus rather than mined for short-term yield.
The opening chapter compares Western and Eastern farming systems. Western agriculture is described as large-scale, mechanised, capital-rich and often dependent on artificial manures. Eastern agriculture, especially in India, China and Japan, is described as smaller-scale, labour-intensive and often more focused on recycling fertility.
Howard and Wad argue that the weakness of Western agriculture lies in its dependence on exploiting stored fertility from virgin land. They write that North American soils soon showed signs of exhaustion and that modern farming had often neglected the systematic conversion of waste products into humus.
Why it mattered then: The early twentieth century was a period of increasing fertiliser use, mechanisation and global commodity farming. Howard and Wad were warning that farming systems built on extraction would eventually face ecological and economic limits.
Why it matters now: Regenerative farming makes a similar point today. Soil cannot be treated as an inert growing medium. Farming systems that export nutrients and organic matter without replenishment eventually run into problems: compaction, erosion, declining biological activity, lower water retention and increasing dependence on inputs.
This chapter places Howard and Wad’s argument in historical context. They claim that ancient and modern farming traditions agree on the importance of organic matter. The book discusses Roman writers such as Varro and Columella, who understood the value of well-rotted manure and the need to manage moisture and decay.
The authors also refer to twentieth-century scientific work on soil organic matter and green manuring, showing that they were not anti-science. Their complaint was not that science was useless, but that agricultural science had become too fragmented and too focused on isolated inputs.
Why it mattered then: Organic matter had been somewhat overshadowed by the rise of chemical fertiliser theory after Liebig. Howard and Wad were trying to restore humus to the centre of agricultural thinking.
Why it matters now: Soil organic matter is now widely recognised as central to soil structure, water holding, nutrient cycling and microbial activity. Modern soil health work has essentially put new scientific language around a concern Howard and Wad were already pressing.
This chapter examines the raw materials available on farms: crop residues, weeds, leaves, green manures, animal bedding, dung, urine earth, ash and other organic wastes. The key point is that no single material is enough. The trick is to combine materials so that the composting process has the right balance.
Howard and Wad were especially interested in making compost practical for smallholders. The goal was not to import expensive products but to organise the resources already present on the holding.
Why it mattered then: Many Indian smallholders lacked spare capital for purchased fertilisers. A fertility system based on local residues was more realistic than one dependent on external inputs.
Why it matters now: This is highly relevant to market gardeners, organic growers and mixed farms trying to reduce input costs. The modern equivalent might be designing a fertility plan around cover crops, livestock bedding, woodchip, composted manure, crop residues and local green waste.
This is the practical heart of the book. Howard and Wad describe the Indore method as a way to combine scientific research, agricultural experience and future soil management into one process. They emphasise that all available vegetable matter, soiled bedding, crop residues, leaves, farmyard manure, green manures, weeds, urine earth and wood ashes pass through the compost factory, with air and water as the only other materials.
The method is designed to be continuous, year-round and aerobic. The resulting compost is described as finely divided, biologically active and ready for incorporation into the soil.
The book gives a 90-day timetable: charging begins on day one, fungus growth is established by day ten, watering and turning follow at intervals, and the compost is removed to the field at around day ninety.
Why it mattered then: This was a disciplined method for turning scattered organic wastes into a predictable soil amendment.
Why it matters now: Modern composting still relies on the same basic principles: carbon-nitrogen balance, moisture, oxygen, temperature, microbial activity and turning. Howard and Wad’s method is not identical to every modern composting system, but the biological logic remains recognisable.
This chapter explains the practical controls behind good composting. Howard and Wad focus on the carbon-nitrogen ratio, aeration, moisture, microbial inoculation, temperature and avoiding nitrogen losses.
They argue that good compost should have a carbon-nitrogen ratio near 10:1 and should be produced by fungi and bacteria working under aerobic conditions. They also note that results from Waksman and Gerretsen’s 1931 laboratory work supported the patterns they observed in the Indore composting process.
Why it mattered then: The chapter helped make composting look less like folk practice and more like applied microbiology.
Why it matters now: Composting is now a recognised biological process, and modern growers still manage piles according to moisture, oxygen, feedstock balance and temperature. The book’s language is older, but the underlying process is familiar.
The final chapter considers how the Indore process might be adapted beyond Indore. Howard and Wad argue that it could be used across the tropics and subtropics, provided temperature and aeration are managed. They also discuss difficulties in wetter climates, where flooding can reduce aeration and surface heaps may be better than pits.
The book also extends the idea into rural hygiene and sanitation, suggesting that human, animal and vegetable wastes could be transformed into humus in ways that reduce flies, protect water and improve health.
Why it mattered then: Rural sanitation, soil fertility and village health were deeply connected issues in colonial India.
Why it matters now: Nutrient recycling from human waste remains an important but sensitive topic. Modern systems must manage pathogens, pharmaceuticals, heavy metals, PFAS, microplastics and legal restrictions — issues that Howard and Wad could not fully anticipate.
This opening idea sets the tone. Howard and Wad see waste not as an inconvenience but as a fundamental design flaw in modern agriculture.
Modern relevance: Very high. Regenerative agriculture, circular economy thinking and composting all begin with the same question: what are we throwing away that should be returned to the system?
This is one of the book’s sharpest lines. Howard and Wad are criticising farming systems that rely on mining stored fertility from newly opened land.
Modern relevance: Still powerful. It anticipates modern concerns about soil mining, land degradation, deforestation and extractive agriculture.
This sentence captures the book’s core philosophy.
Modern relevance: Extremely high. It could sit comfortably in a modern soil health handbook.
Howard and Wad were not rejecting science; they wanted science to think in wholes rather than fragments.
Modern relevance: This feels very current. Agroecology, systems thinking and regenerative farming all ask science to look beyond single inputs and isolated yield metrics.
This refers to the Indore method’s reliance on local materials, air and water rather than purchased compost activators.
Modern relevance: Useful, though not absolute. Modern growers may still use minerals, inoculants or bought-in amendments where needed, but the principle of designing fertility from local resources is sound.
Howard and Wad’s focus on humus maps closely onto today’s focus on soil organic matter and soil organic carbon. Modern terminology is more precise, but the practical idea is the same: soils need living and decomposing organic material to function well.
A 2025 review of regenerative organic agriculture found positive effects on soil health and ecosystem service delivery, including increases in soil organic carbon, total nitrogen and microbial biomass carbon compared with conventional systems, though it also noted that short-term yields can be lower and that more long-term studies are needed.
FAO describes composting as a way to reduce pollution, reuse organic waste, reduce fertiliser costs and return nutrients to soil. That is almost exactly the practical case Howard and Wad were making in 1931.
The book assumes a world in which animals, bedding, crop residues and fields are connected. Many modern farms have become specialised: arable farms without animals, livestock farms without enough land, market gardens dependent on imported compost. Howard and Wad remind us why mixed systems can be resilient: one enterprise’s waste becomes another’s fertility.
For market gardeners and small farms, the book’s message is wonderfully practical. Before buying another pallet of fertiliser, ask: what fertility is already leaving the holding? Grass clippings, hedge cuttings, crop residues, spoiled hay, autumn leaves, livestock bedding, ramial woodchip and food-processing waste may all have value if handled safely and legally.
Howard and Wad constantly connect soil, crops, livestock, labour, economics, sanitation and health. This is very close to the spirit of agroecology: farming as a living system, not a set of disconnected technical problems.
Modern composting science now has better understanding of microbial ecology, thermophilic composting, pathogen reduction, greenhouse gas emissions, nutrient losses and compost maturity. Howard and Wad were remarkably observant, but they were working with early twentieth-century microbiology.
The book’s interest in turning human waste into humus was visionary in one sense, but modern readers need caution. Today, the safe use of excreta, wastewater, biosolids and sludge requires risk assessment, treatment standards, monitoring and regulation. WHO’s guidelines for safe use of wastewater, excreta and greywater emphasise health-based targets, risk management and strict monitoring.
In England and Wales, sewage sludge use is subject to restrictions, including rules about untreated sludge and limits around fruit, vegetables, orchards and protected cropping. Modern concerns also include contaminants such as pharmaceuticals, industrial chemicals, microplastics and PFAS, which were not part of Howard and Wad’s framework.
The Indore method was designed around cattle, manual labour and smallholder systems. On some modern farms, especially in high-wage economies, labour is a major constraint. The method’s principles remain useful, but the exact workflow may need mechanisation, front loaders, windrow turners, static aerated piles or cooperative composting systems.
The book’s language about “the Orient”, “the Occident” and Indian cultivators reflects its era. Modern readers should separate the valuable agronomic observations from the colonial frame in which they were written.
Howard and Wad are sceptical of artificial manures, and that scepticism helped shape organic farming. Today, the picture is more nuanced. Synthetic fertilisers can be overused and damaging when poorly managed, but they can also prevent nutrient deficiencies and support yields when used carefully. The bigger modern question is not “fertiliser or compost?” but how to design nutrient cycles that maintain soil life, avoid pollution, reduce dependency and produce enough food.
Modern evidence: Broadly supports it.
Modern reviews find that organic amendments such as compost, manure and crop residues can increase soil organic carbon, though effects vary by soil, climate, crop system and measurement method. A 2023 review of regenerative agriculture notes that compost, biochar and manure can contribute to soil organic carbon gains, while also warning that claims need careful measurement and long-term evidence.
Modern evidence: Supports it, with caveats.
Compost can supply nutrients and improve soil function, but its nutrient release is slower and more variable than mineral fertiliser. A grower still needs nutrient budgeting. Compost is not magic brown dust; it is a biological amendment with real but variable fertiliser value.
Modern evidence: Strongly supports it.
Modern soil health frameworks consider biological, physical and chemical properties together. Soil organic matter affects aggregation, water retention, nutrient cycling and microbial habitat. Howard and Wad’s criticism of fragmented science now looks rather ahead of its time.
Modern evidence: Supports it.
Well-managed aerobic composting can reduce odours, stabilise organic materials, reduce pathogens when temperatures are sufficient, and produce a more usable amendment. Poorly managed heaps, by contrast, can lose nitrogen, produce methane or nitrous oxide, attract pests and spread weed seeds or pathogens.
Modern evidence: Complicates it.
The 2025 review of regenerative organic agriculture found soil health benefits, but also reported lower food and fibre yields in the data it assessed and highlighted the lack of long-term comparative trials. This does not undermine regenerative farming, but it does remind us to be honest: improving soil biology is not the same as guaranteeing higher yields in every crop, season or region.
Howard and Wad were ahead of their time in several important ways.
First, they saw waste as a design problem. That is now central to circular economy thinking.
Second, they understood that soil fertility is biological, not just chemical. Their emphasis on fungi, bacteria, aeration, moisture and decomposition anticipated much later popular interest in soil microbiology.
Third, they argued for local resource use. Long before “input reduction” became fashionable, they were asking farmers to look first at what was already available on the farm.
Fourth, they connected soil, health and sanitation. Their solutions need modern safeguards, but their instinct that nutrient cycles, public health and agriculture belong in the same conversation was genuinely forward-looking.
Fifth, they criticised fragmented science. They wanted agricultural research to guide whole systems, not merely optimise isolated parts. That is very close to current agroecological thinking.
The book is confident that the method can be widely adapted, especially across the tropics and subtropics. In practice, composting systems must be tailored to climate, labour, feedstocks, regulations, machinery, farm scale and crop needs.
The authors recognised the importance of hygiene, but they could not know the full modern picture: persistent chemicals, antibiotic residues, heavy metals, PFAS, microplastics and complex pathogen management. Their enthusiasm for recycling all wastes needs updating.
They were right to criticise dependency and soil neglect. But modern agronomy shows that mineral fertilisers, used carefully and integrated with organic matter, can be part of sustainable nutrient management in some systems. The problem is not nutrients in mineral form per se; it is overuse, imbalance, pollution, carbon cost, soil neglect and dependency.
Howard and Wad valued many Eastern farming practices, but the book still speaks from the viewpoint of colonial agricultural improvement. Today, we would give more weight to farmer knowledge, local autonomy, indigenous practice and participatory research.
1. Waste is often fertility waiting to be organised
The idea: Crop residues, bedding, leaves, weeds and manures should be treated as resources.
Why it matters: Farms leak fertility when organic materials are burned, dumped or left unmanaged.
How to apply it: Make a farm fertility map. List every organic material entering and leaving the holding.
2. Composting is a managed biological process
The idea: Good compost needs air, water, balance, time and microbial activity.
Why it matters: A neglected heap is not the same as a composting system.
How to apply it: Monitor moisture, structure and temperature. Turn or aerate when needed.
3. Soil improvement multiplies other improvements
The idea: Better seeds and better crops depend on better soil.
Why it matters: Genetics alone cannot compensate for exhausted soil.
How to apply it: Pair variety choice with soil-building practices such as compost, cover crops, reduced disturbance and rotations.
4. The farm should be designed as a cycle
The idea: Livestock, crops, residues and soil should support one another.
Why it matters: Specialised systems often create waste in one place and scarcity in another.
How to apply it: Reconnect enterprises where possible: grazing leys, composted bedding, crop residues, fertility-building breaks.
5. Science should serve the whole system
The idea: Agriculture cannot be understood through isolated inputs alone.
Why it matters: Yield, soil health, water, labour, economics and ecology are linked.
How to apply it: Track practical indicators together: yield, soil organic matter, infiltration, worm counts, input costs, crop health and resilience.
For a market gardener, the book suggests building a fertility plan around compost, green waste, crop residues and careful nutrient cycling. Questions to ask include: What organic materials are leaving the site? Could crop residues be composted? Is bought-in compost clean, traceable and appropriate?
For an organic farm, the book reinforces the importance of mixed rotations, composted manure, cover crops and the careful handling of bedding and slurry. The warning is to avoid assuming that “organic” automatically means balanced. Nutrient testing still matters.
For a pasture livestock system, Howard and Wad’s thinking encourages attention to manure distribution, bedding recovery, winter housing systems, composted muck, herbal leys and soil structure. Dung is not just waste from animals; it is a key part of the fertility loop.
For a regenerative arable farm, the book supports residue retention, compost use, cover cropping and reduced reliance on imported fertility. But the modern version should include soil testing, carbon monitoring, nutrient budgets and realistic machinery planning.
For community composting or local food systems, the book is a reminder that fertility can be localised. Towns and villages generate organic residues. The challenge is to process them safely, legally and cleanly.
Reflective questions to try:
A warning: do not apply the book’s advice on human wastes casually. Modern legal, health and contamination issues are serious. Use only approved systems and follow current regulations.
The book does several things brilliantly. It makes composting feel important, practical and intellectually serious. It links soil fertility to farm economics. It refuses to see agriculture as a one-way extraction process. And it provides one of the clearest early accounts of the Indore composting method.
Its limitations are also clear. It is technical in places, historically dated in its language, and shaped by colonial assumptions. It gives less attention than a modern book would to farmer participation, gender, land rights, ecological diversity, pollution law or food system politics. It is also more confident about compost’s universal role than many modern agronomists would be.
Who will benefit from reading it? Farmers, growers, compost makers, regenerative agriculture students, organic farming historians, permaculture designers and anyone interested in soil fertility.
Who may find it less useful? Readers looking for a simple modern how-to guide may find it old-fashioned. Large-scale farmers may need to translate its principles into mechanised systems. Those wanting current legal advice on waste recycling should look elsewhere.
So, is The Waste Products of Agriculture still worth reading? Yes — especially if you care about regenerative farming, compost, organic agriculture or the history of soil thinking.
It is not a perfect book. It is not a modern manual. And it should not be read uncritically. But its central insight has lasted remarkably well: a farm’s fertility depends not only on what it buys, but on how intelligently it cycles what it already has.
The reader who will get most from it is someone who enjoys practical farming history and is willing to translate older language into modern practice. For market gardeners, smallholders, organic growers and agroecological thinkers, it offers both inspiration and useful provocation.
Its lasting legacy is the idea that compost is not a side issue. It is a symbol of an entire farming philosophy: one that values cycles over extraction, biology over mere chemistry, and long-term fertility over short-term convenience.
The single most important idea modern readers can take from the book is this: there is no such thing as agricultural waste in a well-designed farming system — only fertility that has not yet found its way home.
Who wrote The Waste Products of Agriculture?
The book was written by Albert Howard and Yeshwant D. Wad. Howard was Director of the Institute of Plant Industry at Indore, while Wad was Chief Assistant in Chemistry there.
When was the book first published?
It was first published in 1931 by Humphrey Milford, Oxford University Press.
What is the book mainly about?
It is mainly about turning agricultural waste products — crop residues, dung, bedding, leaves, weeds and other organic materials — into humus through the Indore composting method.
What is the Indore process?
The Indore process is a controlled composting method developed at the Institute of Plant Industry in Indore. It uses mixed plant and animal residues, air, water, turning and microbial decomposition to create compost suitable for returning to the soil.
Is the book still relevant to regenerative agriculture?
Yes. Its focus on compost, soil organic matter, nutrient cycling and reducing dependence on external inputs fits strongly with regenerative and agroecological farming principles.
Is anything in the book outdated?
Yes. Some language reflects colonial attitudes, and its discussion of human waste recycling does not account for modern concerns about pathogens, pharmaceuticals, heavy metals, PFAS and legal restrictions.
Should modern farmers follow the Indore method exactly?
Not necessarily. The principles are still useful, but modern farmers should adapt them to local climate, machinery, labour, regulations, feedstocks and soil test results.
Tad Brown — Humus Gnosis: Soil Fertility, Research and Funding in the Life of Sir Albert Howard –
This is a valuable modern paper for anyone who wants to understand Albert Howard in more depth. Rather than simply presenting him as the “father of organic farming”, Tad Brown explores the wider world Howard worked in: colonial agricultural research, soil fertility debates, funding pressures, scientific institutions and the rise of humus-based thinking.
The paper is useful because it gives a more rounded picture of Howard. It shows that his ideas did not appear from nowhere, nor were they simply romantic praise for traditional farming. They were shaped by scientific observation, practical farming experience, Indian agriculture, imperial research networks and the growing unease around artificial fertilisers.
For readers of The Waste Products of Agriculture or the Indore composting method, this paper helps explain why Howard’s work mattered historically — and why we should read it with both respect and critical awareness today.
David R. Hershey — Sir Albert Howard and the Indore Process
David Hershey’s paper is one of the most useful short introductions to the Indore composting method. It explains who Albert Howard was, why his work in India mattered, and how the Indore process became one of the foundations of organic farming.
The paper gives a clear overview of the materials used in the Indore method, including plant wastes, animal manure, urine-soaked earth, wood ash, air and water. It also helps readers understand that Howard’s composting work was not just about making a heap of rotted material; it was part of a wider argument about soil fertility, self-reliance and farming in cycles.
This source is particularly helpful because it is balanced. It recognises Howard’s importance while also pointing out that some of his wider claims about soil health, disease and nutrition went beyond what the science could fully prove at the time.
This modern research paper is useful because it brings composting into the twenty-first century. Rather than treating compost as a single, universal solution, the authors look at how different composts perform in different situations.
The paper argues that compost can support food production and soil improvement, but only when it is used intelligently. The type of compost, the crop being grown, the method of application and the local growing conditions all matter. In other words, compost is not magic — it works best when matched carefully to the farming system.
This is a helpful companion to Howard and Wad’s older work because it supports their belief in compost’s importance, while adding modern precision and nuance. It reminds readers that the question is not simply “Should we use compost?” but “What kind of compost, for which crop, in which soil, and in what way?”
This review looks at what happens when organic amendments such as compost, manure and other organic materials are used over long periods. It is especially useful for readers who want evidence that organic matter can genuinely improve soil health over time.
The paper explains that repeated organic amendments can improve soil structure, increase soil organic carbon, support microbial life and improve biological activity. These are exactly the kinds of benefits that organic and regenerative farmers often seek when they use compost.
This research is useful because it backs up one of Howard and Wad’s central ideas: soil fertility is not just about adding soluble nutrients for the next crop. It is also about building the long-term biological and physical health of the soil.
