Special Issue Introduction: Ethnographic Perspectives on Pharming: How Farmers Participate in the Cultivation and Circulation of Plant‐Derived Pharmaceuticals

Not long after I began researching hemp agriculture in Illinois, I found that some CBD growers refer to themselves as “pharmers.” This term reflects their fervent belief in the health benefits and transformative potential of CBD. They view themselves as farmers who are growing medicine, and they work to legitimize the pharmaceutical value of CBD hemp. They often argue that CBD is fundamentally more natural and effective than synthesized commercial drugs and share stories of customers who have replaced “a list of prescriptions as long as your arm” with just one remedy for their anxiety, chronic pain, or related disorders—CBD. Being a pharmer is more than just a play on words. It is a powerful identity that underscores their commitment to both farming and expanding access to plant-derived medicinal products they believe are cheaper and more effective than many prescription drugs developed by “Big Pharma.” After these conversations, I kept thinking about the possible theoretical and rhetorical value of the concept of “pharming.” Who else could be considered pharmers, and how might it be valuable to think about their activities through this lens? Anthropologists have long been interested in medicinal plants and diverse healing paradigms. A rich tradition of ethnobotanical and ethnopharmacological research in anthropology focuses on the medicinal uses of plants within particular cultural contexts, how communities care for these plants, and debates surrounding intellectual and cultural property rights in the context of drug development (c.f., Etkin 1993; Etkin et al. 2011; Hsu and Harris 2010; Posey 2002). Ethnographers have also investigated the large-scale cultivation of medicinal plants for global markets. For example, recent research focused on two different plants with anti-malarial properties (cinchona and artemisia) reveals how colonial-era cinchona plantations in India transformed landscapes and communities (Middleton 2021, 2024) and how postcolonial artemisia cultivation shapes politics and farmer livelihoods in Madagascar (Robbins 2025). The concept of “pharming” brings these sometimes divergent research traditions into productive conversation with one another and encourages us to focus more closely on what it means to intentionally cultivate or harvest plants with medicinal properties that have become (or are in the process of becoming) global commodities. Some of these plants may be deeply connected to local healing and subsistence traditions; others may be novel and/or non-native cultivars. In all cases, local and global discourses about health and well-being shape the ways that pharmers and consumers perceive the value of these plants and embrace their role(s) in the development and circulation of plant-based remedies. The four articles in this special issue help us think more deeply about the phenomenon of pharming, defined as the cultivation or systematic harvest of plants used to produce pharmaceuticals. Pharming was once commonplace, but many plant-derived compounds (e.g., the salicylic acid found in willow bark that was a precursor to aspirin) can now be synthesized in the laboratory. Some of these plants are associated with “alternative” or “traditional” medicine, but for many pharmers, the long-term success of their ventures depends on more mainstream acceptance and, in some cases, legalization, of these drugs. The ethnographic study of pharming ventures in different locales helps us understand how farmers participate (in often hidden ways) in the political economy of pharmaceutical development and circulation, the social and ecological effects of these crops and their attendant economies, and the unique multispecies relationships forged through pharming. These papers also highlight the opportunities and challenges for pharmers posed by global health crises (e.g., the COVID-19 pandemic) and growing interest in plant-based or natural remedies among those who “distrust” biomedical and scientific expertise (e.g., Cullinan et al. 2024). Katherine Farley expands our understanding of what constitutes “pharming” by exploring debates over wild versus cultivated American ginseng (Panax quinquefolius ) in Appalachia. Most ginseng is commercially pharmed, but wild-harvested varieties of this medicinal root are regarded as more potent and hold greater market value. Her ethnographic research in North Carolina and West Virginia reveals why people engage in wild ginseng harvesting, their concerns about overharvesting and habitat loss, and key areas of disagreement in their approaches to conserving wild ginseng. Farley's work troubles the boundaries between cultivating and harvesting ginseng and highlights the ways that ginseng pharmers understand the connections between plant genetics, medicinal potency, and the “wildness” of ginseng (and the landscapes where it grows). Farley's work reveals the value of centering analyses of pharming activities on small-scale, artisanal producers and harvesters and closely examining their ideas about how cultivation techniques shape the nature of the plant itself. Chanelle Adams explores the harvest and distillation of ravintsara (Cinnamomum camphora ct 1,8-cineole), an essential oil with antiviral properties, in Madagascar's central highlands. Her close examination of ravintsara helps us understand the different kinds of labor involved in pharming and the vulnerability of those who harvest and distill these products, especially in the context of health crises that increase the value of pharmed plants. Adams' ethnographic research overlapped with the explosion of interest in ravintsara during the Covid-19 pandemic, and she brings forth the lives and perspectives of the “essential” workers who made the production and circulation of this “essential” oil possible during this crisis. Her focus on informal workers in the ravintsara industry reveals how this vital, but largely invisible, labor force sustains global supply chains for plant-based alternative medicines. Katherine McNamara's research on Cinchona officinalis pharming in Ecuador also coincided with the COVID-19 pandemic. McNamara investigates how the pandemic increased demand for quinine-containing products derived from cinchona and how elite actors in the small town of San Pedro de Vilcabamba met this demand by brewing an artisanal tonic water called ToniQuina. McNamara frames these recent attempts to create marketable products containing cinchona within the broader context of local understandings of the value of this plant and its role within the local pharmacopeia. She reveals the ways that harvesting, distilling, and utilizing cinchona create opportunities for solidarity and resilience within this community. McNamara's work highlights the significance of pharming's larger social and historical context and pays close attention to the multispecies relationships facilitated by pharming activities. My own article, co-authored with Courtney Roberts, examines the perspectives of small-scale CBD hemp (non-intoxicating varieties of Cannabis sativa containing less than 0.3% THC) farmers in Illinois as they negotiate a particularly difficult political moment. Although hemp pharming is technically legal in the United States, regulatory uncertainties and hemp's ambiguous relationship to intoxicating marijuana make it enduringly illicit. Like the other articles in this special issue, ours also reveals the hidden work involved in pharming; in this case, small-scale CBD pharmers spend valuable time and energy lobbying state officials for “hemp-friendly” legislation and work to legitimize the medical value and economic potential of CBD. This work takes place in the context of a rapidly consolidating U.S. cannabis industry increasingly dominated by large companies that would prefer CBD to be regulated and licensed in the same way as recreational and medicinal marijuana. These political economic pressures undermine solidarity within the cannabis industry and make small pharmers in Illinois vulnerable. Together, these articles remind us of the economic importance of pharming activities, especially for small-scale cultivators and harvesters, and the vital roles that pharmers play in the production and circulation of plant-based medicines. They also underscore the uncertainty pharmers face. Global health crises like the COVID-19 pandemic and/or rapidly shifting attitudes toward “traditional” and “alternative” remedies can cause demand for pharmed plants to fluctuate dramatically. In the absence of clear regulations and empirical evidence of efficacy, many pharmed plants may also be stigmatized or enduringly illicit, circumstances that also enhance the vulnerability of pharmers. Further ethnographic research can help us understand how pharming shapes landscapes, communities, and political economic relationships in many locales and how pharmers themselves shape global supply chains and health discourses. Cultivating plants with medicinal properties is not a new phenomenon, nor is the ethnographic study of these practices. However, the concept of pharming helps us draw together divergent research traditions and think seriously about how the entrepreneurial activities of producers/harvesters of plant-based pharmaceuticals in different parts of the world are meaningfully interconnected. There is much to be gained from a close, comparative examination of pharming as an entrepreneurial activity and an emergent identity among those who participate in the cultivation of plant-based remedies.