Pylimitics

"Simplicity" rearranged


September 18

Corn is quite the important grain. It’s “maize,” really, and it came from southern Mexico, where it was cultivated over 10,000 years ago. Even the word “maize” comes from what the indigenous Taino called it: “mahiz.” It’s called “corn” in English because the word already existed, meaning a small, hard particle like a grain of sand. It was used for various vegetable seeds too — “peppercorn,” for example, or “barley corn,” and when this new grain arrived, there was the word just sitting there waiting.

Corn arrived in Europe when the Spanish returned from expeditions to Central America. It’s easy to grow and tolerates climate variations very well, so it caught on quickly. But the Spanish settlers in Central America were suspicious — they were more used to wheat, and anyway, if they started eating indigenous foods, they worried that they might transform into indigenous people, Can’t have that sort of thing, right? But they went ahead and ate it anyway — hunger can be a good motivational tool. 

By the early 1800s, corn had become a staple in Europe, including England. There were laws about shipping it (as well as other foods) between nations, though. In England, for example, there were protectionist laws that added additional taxes on imported wheat, rice, and corn. It was an effort to prop up local production by keeping prices high. Corn had been around for over 300 years by then, and it had become, arguably, the most important of the taxed products, so the regulations were called the Corn Laws.

Richard Cobden was born in Sussex, England, in 1804. At 15 he moved to London to join his uncle’s warehouse business, and started trading fabric — mostly muslin and calico. He started his own business when he was 24, then three years later leased a factory and started to produce printed calico instead of just trading it. He was pretty good at it, and Cobden prints got quite popular. In his spare time, he started writing and publishing pamphlets advocating for radical ideas. You know, outlandish things like peace and free trade. 

Then on September 18, 1838, he took the next step in his career of public advocacy: he founded the Anti Corn Law League. It was a popular movement that was, just as it said, trying to get the corn laws repealed. Not that Cobden had anything against corn. Quite the opposite; he was in favor of corn. What he was against, as he explained in his pamphlets, was “the ignorant self-interest of the landlords, the bread-taxing oligarchy, unprincipled, unfeeling, rapacious, and plundering.” 

As a very successful businessman himself, he could have been considered a member of the oligarchy, but he gave all that up in pursuit of running for Parliament — and in 1841 he won. His Anti Corn Law League became a nationwide movement, and in 1846, the laws were repealed. Corn was finally free to pursue its rightful destiny. 

That destiny is surprisingly varied. Corn is a staple food, but it’s also a fuel. Corn stoves are nearly the same thing as pellet stoves, but they burn dried corn kernels. Corn cobs are used as fuel too. Then of course there’s ethanol; corn is the biggest source of biofuel production. 

Not only that, but you can make plastic out of corn — and fabric (including calico!), and glue. There’s even a food coloring made from a purple variety of corn. And don’t forget the corn mazes (which really ought to be called maize mazes) that start showing up around this time of year. 

Given all this, it’s kind of surprising that there isn’t an international Corn Day, or for that matter, much official recognition of Richard Cobden. Although having towns named after him in Ontario, Illinois, Minnesota, and Victoria is, I suppose, something. I might even point out that the corn “cob” might, conceivably, be named after him — but that would be just too corny.



Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

About Me

I’m Pete Harbeson, a writer located near Boston, Massachusetts. In addition to writing my own content, I’ve learned to translate for my loquacious and opinionated puppy Chocolate. I shouldn’t be surprised, but she mostly speaks in doggerel.