Miller’s Organic Farm, located outside the village of Bird-in-Hand, Pennsylvania, looks like all the other farms that dot the winding country roads surrounding it. A simple black mailbox marks its entrance, and an unassuming white house sits at the end of a long driveway, bookended by fields where handsome horses roam and lazy cows graze. But despite the tranquility of the scene, this typical-seeming Amish farm is actually the center of a political maelstrom that has been roiling for almost ten years.
The controversy began in 2014, when two people became sick after drinking dairy products that food inspectors traced back to Amos Miller’s farm (one of them ultimately died; Miller disputes it was as a result of consuming his products). When the USDA investigated his facilities, they discovered that Miller was slaughtering and processing meat from his animals on the premises and not in a USDA-inspected slaughterhouse, a violation of food safety laws. Ultimately, Miller wanted to continue this practice as well as produce raw milk––laws around the production of raw milk and cheese vary from state to state, with Pennsylvania allowing producers to sell it, provided they obtain a permit and their products undergo frequent testing, both things Miller wouldn’t do. His customers, he said, came to him because they wanted natural products, and the government would force him to use myriad chemicals in the production process (for example, washing meat with chlorine after slaughter). The government, meanwhile, maintained it simply wanted to bring Miller’s operation into compliance with federal food safety laws, a feat many other local Amish farms managed.
A few decades ago, the Miller story probably would have faded into obscurity, federal regulations around the interstate sale of dairy products being few people’s idea of excitement. But as the farmer’s entanglement with the FDA and court system dragged on through the Trump presidency and into the Covid years, a curious thing happened: he was embraced and championed by a ragtag coalition of people who, somewhat improbably, found themselves huddled together under the same political umbrella.
You might describe some of the farmer’s champions as Paleo QAnon, a male-dominated group for whom food reflects ideas about traditional gender roles, particularly masculinity, and the corruption of contemporary Western medicine, among other things. Other supporters are health proponents who are hyper-scrupulous about chemicals lurking in grocery store fare, whose views on animal welfare and nutrition aren’t that far removed from those held by liberal vegetarians like Jonathan Safran Foer and Peter Singer. Many are Evangelical Christian homesteaders who moonlight as YouTubers; still others are rank and file Fox News fans, who see in Miller’s story the rage-inducing creep of the nanny state.
It could be hard to make out what Miller thought of the hoopla. Due to Amish reluctance to be photographed or engage in self-promotion, he has made few media appearances, though he was interviewed by Del Bigtree, a prominent anti-vaccine activist, on his podcast The High Wire, and lent his voice to a “mini-documentary” produced by the Lancaster Patriot, a Christian publication that bills itself as “leading a Movement [sic] to restore truthful and ethical media in Lancaster County.” While footage of pastoral landscapes rolled and soppy string music played in the documentary, Miller spoke, in characteristic taciturn Amish style, about his plight. “I’m not against government. We need government,” he said of his apparent adversary. “But when they try to hide the truth, that’s when I take my stand.”
Though his meat processing formed the foundation of the case, it was Miller’s raw milk that proved the most galvanizing. His customer base and supporters believe that pasteurization removes many of milk’s nutrients and that, in its raw state, milk can alleviate symptoms of depression, infertility, autoimmune disorders, and autism, among other conditions. Health authorities say there is scant evidence for this, and that the bacteria present in unpasteurized milk can cause illness and even death.
In August of 2022, Miller’s story got a major boost when it was featured on Tucker Carlson Tonight. “So they went after gyms, organic farmers, and churches,” Carlson said to his guest Jeremy Loffredo, a Miller champion and investigative journalist for right-leaning Canadian publication Rebel News. “So maybe they’re against anything that’s wholesome and edifying, that makes you stronger and healthier and in favor of anything that diminishes you and makes you more dependent?” Afterward, the online discourse about Miller became even more heated: “This is a disgusting abuse of power,” read a typical comment under a post on Food Safety News, which has run pieces critical of Miller. Another post proclaimed, “These ppl [the government] DO NOT CARE ABOUT YOU!” At one point, his supporters collectively raised more than half a million dollars for him, hoping to help Miller’s businesses stay afloat while he was barred from selling goods and to help with his legal fees.
In court, Miller tried a number of strategies. At one point he argued that he sold only to members of his “private membership association,” which he thought meant (erroneously) regulations didn’t apply to him. He also tried to characterize himself as a “sovereign citizen,” a pseudo-legal label sometimes used by individuals to claim they cannot be subject to laws without their consent. He had a court-appointed attorney named Steven LaFuente, but the two repeatedly tried to part ways, though the judge refused to allow it until Miller found adequate representation. In the end, he sought advice from Los Angeles-based tax attorney Robert Barnes, known for representing high-profile clients such as Alex Jones, Kyle Rittenhouse, and Amy Cooper. Barnes, who was part of Rittenhouse’s defense team but did not represent him at trial, stated, “This case is not just about preventing Amos Miller from farming in his traditional religious way. It’s also about people having the right to choose what they put in their bodies.”
Despite the national spotlight on Miller, one group noticeably absent from his supporters was the Amish community itself.
Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, where Miller resides, is home to the largest Amish settlement in the world. The Amish, known for their simplistic lifestyle and conservative beliefs, have a gentle relationship with the government and typically avoid legal disputes. Contrary to popular belief, they do not have explicit religious rules about farming practices, and some have even pursued organic certification for their products.
While many perceive the Amish as anti-regulation, the reality is more nuanced, with some Amish farmers embracing organic practices for economic reasons. The Amish community is diverse, and their beliefs do not always align with the stereotypes projected onto them. Despite the image of rustic purity, the Amish are not a monolithic group, and Miller’s legal battle has not garnered unanimous support from his community. Miller’s desire to stay home with his family is the driving force behind his actions. According to Spacht, who describes Miller as a good acquaintance, the issues he is facing with the government are centered around preserving farms and preventing them from turning into parking lots. Stoltzfus, who works closely with Plain farmers, notes that they are not overly concerned about Miller’s situation and generally do not struggle more than non-Amish growers with meeting regulations. Conversations with various Amish individuals reveal a range of opinions about Miller, with some expressing support for him and others viewing the situation as detrimental publicity. Despite the traditionally insular nature of Amish communities, there has been a shift in recent years towards a more nuanced understanding of regulations and compliance. The delicate truce between Miller and the government was disrupted in early 2023 when state officials raided his property, citing foodborne illness concerns linked to his products. This led to a lawsuit and renewed support for Miller from his followers, including a successful fundraising campaign on a Christian crowdfunding platform. The ongoing legal battle has drawn attention from various groups, including Amish individuals who have shown solidarity with Miller at court hearings. Please rewrite the following sentence:
“The dog ran quickly through the park.”
“The dog sprinted through the park.”
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