www.montereycountynow.com JULY 17-23, 2025 MONTEREY COUNTY WEEKLY 17 The courtroom of Monterey County Superior Court Department 15 feels as far removed from farming as one could imagine. On Monday, July 14, Judge Thomas Wills, wearing black robes, presides from the bench. Before him are seven attorneys, all wearing black suits and well-shined shoes. They are here to talk about how strawberries are grown in the Pajaro Valley. The testimony goes on for hours, focusing on the minutiae of government code (how to interpret Section 14009 of the California Food and Agriculture Code) and documents (what is and is not included in the administrative record). But case No. 24CV001403 could have far-reaching consequences for California’s agriculture industry. All 58 California counties have agricultural commissioners charged with, among other things, reviewing requests to use restricted materials on farms. Statewide, more than 22,000 permits are granted each year. The case focuses on just six permits, approved by Monterey County Agricultural Commissioner Juan Hidalgo between July 13-Aug. 14, 2023, authorizing 12 applications of two pre-planting fumigants (1,3-dichloropropene and chloropicrin) on fields in the Pajaro Valley. A coalition of community groups asked Hidalgo to reconsider; he upheld the permits. The groups then petitioned the California Department of Pesticide Regulation, which upheld Hidalgo’s findings. So the groups—Pajaro Valley Federation of Teachers, Safe Ag Safe Schools, Center for Farmworker Families and others—sued. They named Hidalgo, the Department of Pesticide Regulation and the six farms. Pesticide manufacturers and applicators joined the case. And that long list of defendants brought the cavalry to court. The potent response is no surprise, given the stakes. Pesticide application company TriCal joined the case, noting in court papers that it did all 12 fumigations noted in the case, jobs worth $1.5 million. Attorney Ann Grottveit of the Sacramento firm Kahn, Soares & Conway represents the growers. In court, she said the cost to grow strawberries exceeds $100,000 per acre. “If this tool was not necessary, it would not be used—it’s part of that expense,” she said. Wills offered his own cost/ benefit data point, noting the ag commissioner’s annual crop report shows strawberries set a new record in 2024 with $1 billion in gross production value. Wills’ ruling is pending, but his comments in the courtroom seemed to suggest that Big Ag is simply too big to burden with more regulatory requirements. All signs point to a decision rejecting the suit, and upholding the status quo. The status quo, as defendants’ attorneys rightly noted during the hearing, is rigorous. The U.S. Environmental Protection Agency first approves pesticides and determines requirements for use. The California Department of Pesticide Control adds input. Before using restricted materials, growers must apply for a permit from a county ag commissioner; they must then issue a public notice. In Monterey County, there are 18 licensed agricultural inspectors/biologists in pesticide enforcement, which accounts for 30 percent of the ag commissioner’s $16 million annual budget. But plaintiffs argue these steps have become a rote box-checking exercise, and they sued seeking more meaningful analysis, specifically evaluating cumulative impacts of chronic pesticide use. “Our feeling is that they are simply rubber stamping,” says Woody Rehanek, a retired special ed teacher who lives in the Pajaro Valley and is a member of Safe Ag Safe Schools. As attorney Elizabeth Fisher from EarthJustice, representing the plaintiffs, puts it: The question is whether ag commissioners “have to show their work.” Judge Wills said showing more work would be unrealistic. “To impose these extensive research and evaluation requirements on a county ag commissioner every time a permit is issued—it’d be completely unwieldy,” he said. That’s true, of course, in a system meant to balance industry needs with environmental and human health. Nowhere in the government code or administrative record is a rethinking of that balance: What if health counted for more? Sara Rubin is the Weekly’s editor. Reach her at sara@montereycountynow.com. Pest Control Pesticide permits go on trial in a case that could change the ag industry. By Sara Rubin A-I-A-I-OH…Squid doesn’t just ooze around Monterey County, Squid also spends time oozing around the internet, on the hunt for how the rest of the world views our little corner of it. Travel sites especially love to write about Carmel with its charming cottages, artists and white sand beach. On July 7, World Day (the English version of a French website), posted an article that caught Squid’s eye: “I discovered America’s only car-free fairy-tale sanctuary where 3,039 locals guard century-old artistic secrets.” It’s written by “John,” no surname given, and features a clearly AI-generated photo of fairytale cottages on a car-less cobblestone street. It’s a little creepy—like something out of a horror movie about a town of English Stepford wives. “John” goes on to say that Carmel remains “America’s last car-free artistic haven.” Considering Carmel is in the midst of hand-wringing over its parking woes—and plays host to popular Car Week events—this is about the weirdest thing ever written about the village. The “article,” or whatever it is, goes on to describe Carmel’s “secret building restrictions” to preserve its authenticity—building codes are public record, so that’s not a thing. It also contends Carmel remains at a pleasant 75 degrees year round. Squid would like to have a word or two with “John” but suspects it’s probably not worth it. It’s a pseudonym for the real author whose initials are A.I. TACO TRAVAILS…It seems so long ago now, in a far more innocent time, when Seaside’s Mi Tierra unceremoniously closed for renovations in August 2022, with a note on the door saying the market and taqueria would reopen the next spring. It’s been nearly three years since, and a whole lot of struggle for Mi Tierra’s architects, evidently, in navigating the logistics of lining up contractors, equipment and inspectors and the like. Anyhow, Squid brings this all up because Squid’s colleagues reported in March 2025 that Mi Tierra— which arguably served the county’s best tacos before it closed—was set to reopen this May, or maybe June. Well, here we are in July and Mi Tierra is still shuttered, so Squid’s colleague checked in. The latest message is that the goal now is to reopen by the end of the summer—the contractor doesn’t want to commit to July out of concern PG&E inspections might not be lined up in time. At this point, it’s been so long since Squid last enjoyed a Mi Tierra taco that their bursts of flavor are just a hazy, mouth-watering memory. They were real, right? Squid will be sure to confirm, one way or the other, when the grand re-opening comes around, but Squid will just have to keep the calendar open. THE LOCAL SPIN SQUID FRY THE MISSION OF MONTEREY COUNTY WEEKLY IS TO INSPIRE INDEPENDENT THINKING AND CONSCIOUS ACTION, ETC. “Our feeling is that they are rubber-stamping.” SEND SQUID A TIP: squid@montereycountynow.com
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