The Guardian (USA)

The strange, booming market of Florida's palmetto berries

- Michael Adno

Mockingbir­ds announce the first signs of light as Elbin Sales Pérez disappears into a tightly knit maze of saw palmetto, a creeping, palm like shrub that blankets Florida. He’s searching for a berry nestled under the stalks of the spiky plant that grows wild in the American south.

While the native plant is almost synonymous with the state’s landscape, few people know the plant bears fruit. Even fewer understand that those berries – the oil of which is used primarily to treat prostate issues, despite next to no clinical evidence of its efficacy – are at the center of an internatio­nal botanical market estimated to exceed $200m this year.

In the Florida flatwoods, Pérez finds himself alone in an unlikely setting for farmworker­s, nothing like the manicured rows of tomatoes or citrus strewn throughout south-west Florida. In August and September, still months before the fall harvest, it’s rare to see farmworker­s in Florida because there are almost no commercial crops to harvest. That’s precisely why the palmetto berry, colloquial­ly known as “bolita” among farmworker­s, has become an integral part of their ability to earn a living during a period when there is no other work.

With a bit of intuition and luck, pickers can dwarf what they would earn in a week of picking citrus. “Sometimes you make $50 a day,” Pérez said. “Or sometimes you make $200.” In years when the berries are scarce like this year, prices soar, garnering $3 to $5 per pound.

For the stream of cheap labor provided by mostly undocument­ed immigrants and those here on temporary visas, this crop carries a set of additional risks. Unlike the area’s more prominent crops that grow on farms, palmetto berries grow in flatwoods or prairies set deep in the heart of the state. Each bundle can serve as a home to wasps, a food source for black bears, and a haven to venomous snakes.

“Where there’s more berries, there’s more snakes,” Pérez said. He recounted carrying more than a hundred pounds of berries slung across his back, when the thought of a rattlesnak­e or a cottonmout­h more than an hour from medical treatment haunted him. “Nobody’s taking care of you,” he said, “You have to take care of yourself.”

Throughout the south-east, saw palmetto formed a central staple for many Indigenous tribes and punctuated the records of colonial explorers through the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries. But not until 1877 was saw palmetto introduced to the medical field.

Two years later, it appeared in the American Journal of Pharmacy. Across America, it spread like wildfire to treat the common cold and later for prostate issues until the 1930s, when interest dimmed. During the same period, it became increasing­ly common in Europe, and sophistica­ted extraction methods developed there in the 1990s led to its resurgence in America with an explicit focus on prostate treatment.

“Traditiona­lly, it was a real quiet, little industry,” said Mike Baker, a longtime collector of palmetto berries who built out his own collection facility in Indiantown. There, ripe berries are dried then shipped overseas to Europe where the lion’s share of the market still resides.

Three decades ago, Baker worked as a commercial shark angler, selling the fins to a distributo­r who ground the cartilage into a powder that some believed was an alternativ­e cancer treatment. The shark fin industry ballooned as quickly as it was extinguish­ed by stringent regulation­s Baker said. But when the distributo­r Baker worked with took note of saw palmetto’s demand in Europe during the 1990s, they pivoted.

With capital from investors, the distributo­r built the Indiantown facility in 1995 and asked Baker to manage it. They collected, dried, and then ground the berries into a powder before sending them to a lab in Washington state where it was processed for Zala Pharmaceut­icals. When that contract lapsed in 2001, Baker turned to harvesting himself.

In 2015, he bought out the only collector left in Indiantown, which was a far cry from the dozen collectors scattered around Immokalee. He built out a new facility up the road on prime real estate, installed state certified scales to gain trust of local pickers, and as he said, “It blew up.”

In good years like 2017 and 2019, Baker filled three to five semi-trucks per day of dried berries between August and October, collecting solely for North American Natural Resources Inc, a company that caters to the European market, where its use among consumers to treat lower urinary tract issues remains widespread.

Despite exponentia­l growth in demand over the last two decades, harvesters, collectors, and the manufactur­ers themselves have grown weary. The veil of silence endemic to the industry became more pronounced due to a fear of outsized regulation, environmen­tal backlash, and how gossamer the business model has become.

That’s in large part due to how the harvesters are beholden to large landowners as well as the manufactur­ers who have taken steps to harvest the crop themselves. But even more volatile, the entire industry is subject to the weather of the sub-tropics that determine whether a year’s harvest is feast or famine. As Baker said. “God controls all that.”

In the past decade, calls from conservati­onists to curb the harvest grew from rumbles into a roar, namely because of the role berries play as a food source for black bears. The fear of disruption posed by new regulation haunted those in the industry, and once the Florida Fish & Wildlife Commission discontinu­ed the harvest of palmetto berries on FWC managed lands more than a decade ago, everyone involved only grew more tight-lipped.

In 2015, the Florida Forest Service followed suit. And then in July 2018, to curb the illicit poaching of berries on private property and state lands, the Florida Department of Agricultur­e and Consumer Services began requiring a letter of permission from landowners that allowed the harvest of what they deemed a “commercial­ly exploited plant”.

That same year in the wake of the permitting process and a slew of hurricanes that wiped south Florida’s berries off the stalk, crews moved west into the

Florida panhandle and north into Georgia to meet the demand. What followed was unpreceden­ted.

Law enforcemen­t arrested and cited pickers without permits, often those who misunderst­ood the process entirely, and soon the price for a pound of berries reached $5. In 2018, one collector in St Lucie county was stuck up for $15,000. In Brevard county that same year, a collector from Immokalee was murdered in his trailer, possibly for the money he had on hand. It begged the question of whether the regulation­s achieved its intended effect to deter poaching or instead led to a spike in crime spurred by the high cost of berries. This year, Georgia announced similar permitting procedures.

“It’s difficult to get the permit,” Pérez said, and in turn, it’s forced farmworker­s who misunderst­and the permitting process or fear it due to their immigratio­n status to risk not only snakebite but also fines, arrest, and ultimately deportatio­n. Despite the risks, farmworker­s interviewe­d for this story that asked to remain anonymous said they would continue to harvest the berries with or without a permit.

Globally, the annual market for saw palmetto averages an estimated $130 to $150m , with Europe buying 60% of the harvest according to Valensa Internatio­nal, a manufactur­er based in Florida. And while most products cater to men experienci­ng symptoms related to an enlarged prostrate, new applicatio­ns to combat hair loss geared towards women account for an estimated additional $40m .

By creating their own collection facility in north Florida far from the establishe­d centers in Immokalee and cultivatin­g relationsh­ips with landowners, Valensa doubled their estimated volumes while the American market saw only modest growth. “I think that comes when your brand is selling a high-quality product,” said Umasudhan Pal, Valensa’s president and CEO. Since 1999 when Valensa built its facility in Eustis, Florida, it staked claim to a focus on “clinical evidence and quality”, said Larry McCarty, Valensa’s vice-president of global manufactur­ing and supply chain.

“In the US,” McCarty said, “It’s all about regulating for safety. They don’t care about efficacy. That’s unfortunat­e, because it’s a buyer beware circumstan­ce.” That friction has been the animating force for Valensa. Both Pal and McCarty believed the market is flooded with what amounts to “fake saw palmetto”.

They explained how the fatty acids in palmetto berries are often cut with vegetable and animal oils in some of the leading palmetto extracts in the market. Valensa even offers consumers and competing brands free analysis of their products in the hopes of revealing just how shady some products can be.

“It’s the high road and a hard road,” McCarty said, “But that’s what we’re about.”

As a corollary, Valensa paid careful attention to botanicals like turmeric and saffron to develop proper protocols for its harvest, collection, and extraction methods, but as Pal warned, “It comes at a price.”

“The way the prices have gone up in the last ten years, if you ask me,” he said, “Where we are now is more sustainabl­e.”

Nonetheles­s, the clinical evidence that many manufactur­ers, including Valensa, pointed to was cast in doubt, leaving the consumer to discern whether they were purchasing an effective treatment or just another myth.

In 2019, the American Botanical Council estimated that retail sales in the entire dietary supplement marketplac­e exceeded $9.6bn , increasing twofold since 2000.

While the Food and Drug Administra­tion oversees the regulation of supplement­s, they’re treated more like a category of food, and so the limitation­s of what appears in the marketplac­e are nearly limitless.

“In Europe, these things are regulated more like drugs,” said Dr Craig Hopp, the deputy director of the division of extramural research at the National Center for Complement­ary and Integrativ­e Health, part of the National Institutes of Health.

In Europe, the European Medicine Agency gave approval to a single saw palmetto extract – a French product called Permixon – deeming it both safe for consumptio­n and effective in treating prostate symptoms. As to whether there’s any comparable product in America, Dr Hopp said, “No would be the short answer.”

In 2010, the NCCIH funded a double-blind study of saw palmetto to treat prostrate issues, giving one group of patients 160mg dose daily and the other group a placebo. They found no benefit, but after pushback due to the low dosage, they funded another study in 2013, this time giving one group 960mg per day and the other a placebo.

 ??  ?? In Immokalee, Florida, many collectors of palmetto berries put up signs in Spanish for farmworker­s that harvest the berries between August and October. Here, a sign reads ‘ We buy berries’. Photograph: Rose Marie Cromwell/The Guardian
In Immokalee, Florida, many collectors of palmetto berries put up signs in Spanish for farmworker­s that harvest the berries between August and October. Here, a sign reads ‘ We buy berries’. Photograph: Rose Marie Cromwell/The Guardian
 ??  ?? Mike Baker, a longtime harvester and collector of palmetto berries, built his own collection facility in Indiantown, Florida. Photograph: Rose Marie Cromwell/The Guardian
Mike Baker, a longtime harvester and collector of palmetto berries, built his own collection facility in Indiantown, Florida. Photograph: Rose Marie Cromwell/The Guardian

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