Agro-ecologist and musician Bert Lotz retires: “Good science is like making music together”

You call yourself an agro-ecologist, a term with various interpretations. What does it mean to you?

“After completing my PhD in plant ecology, I started working in Wageningen in 1987 as an ecologist in agricultural systems. I studied farming systems that make optimal use of nature’s beneficial effects. I find the combination of ecology and technology particularly fascinating. A good example is the use of new breeding techniques in crops.”

Does this interest also align with the report you wrote on the risks of transgenic herbicide-tolerant crops?

“Yes, in that report, my colleague Jos Bijman and I examined the pros and cons of crops that had been genetically modified with a bacterial gene, making them tolerant to the herbicide glyphosate. Keep in mind, this was back in 1996. We concluded amongst others that large-scale and one-sided use of these crops would increase the risk of weeds developing resistance, ultimately leading farmers to use more herbicides. However, when used correctly, that risk would be lower. On the very day we presented our report in The Hague, Greenpeace blocked the port of Rotterdam to prevent the first ship carrying genetically modified soy from the US from docking. Both Greenpeace and seed company Monsanto criticized our report, and it made the front page of de Volkskrant. I needed some time to process everything that followed. But I learned that this is how the game is played.”

How can genetic modification support natural processes in agriculture?

“A great example is the DuRPh project, a ten-year policy-supporting research initiative focused on developing a potato with durable resistance to late blight (Phytophthora infestans). The project brought together molecular biologists, breeders, plant pathologists, agronomists, and agro-ecologists. Since this pathogen mutates rapidly, a single resistance gene in the potato isn’t enough. We used genetic modification to introduce multiple resistance genes from potatoes and wild relatives into a well-established variety - this method is called cisgenesis. Such variety can significantly reduce the need for pesticides. We have successfully developed a prototype.

When we started the project, organic farmers frequently called me asking, ‘Bert, can we use this potato too?’ However, the organic sector later decided that cisgenesis did not fit within their ethical framework. I consider the DuRPh project a success, even though the potato has yet to reach the European market. Companies are hesitant to pursue development due to the complex approval process. However, potatoes derived from this research are now available in Canada and East Africa. I had expected that during my career, European regulations for new breeding techniques such as CRISPR-Cas and cisgenesis would be relaxed. That hasn’t happened yet, though a recent breakthrough has been made: EU agriculture ministers have reached an agreement, paving the way for final negotiations on new regulations.”

How did you manage to navigate such a tough debate?

“You can disagree with someone and still have a constructive conversation. That’s something I had to learn. I always had good relations with the organic sector. I also got along well with a Greenpeace campaigner. I could have a beer with him and even share a bowl of nettle soup with activists at the DuRPh potato test fields. We could at least agree on what we disagreed about.”

You can disagree with someone and still have a constructive conversation

You have an environmental background, yet the deep-green movement is often critical of genetic modification. Have you ever struggled with your own stance?

“As a researcher, you constantly reflect on these issues. For what’s happening now, I see new breeding techniques as fitting well within my values, supporting natural processes in agricultural systems with the help of technology.”

Many people perceive genetic modification as unnatural and risky. What’s your view on that?

“I’ve given many lectures on this topic - to church groups, agricultural students, and even political parties like GroenLinks. Of course, there were critical questions, especially about patents and the power of big corporations. But these discussions taught me that public resistance is often not as strong as assumed. Once, a football club in the Achterhoek, in the east of the Netherlands, even invited me to give a talk on the topic. Unfortunately, I couldn’t make it due to a packed schedule, I still regret that. It was a great example of unexpected interest. It’s important not to assume people’s opinions beforehand.”

Besides being a scientist, you’re also a musician. How did music become such a big part of your life?

“I had some recorder and piano lessons as a child but lost interest for years. That changed when I joined the Dutch Youth Association for Nature Studies (NJN) at sixteen. There, I met people who had travelled through Hungary and Bulgaria and played bagpipes. I was fascinated. I learned that Dutch bagpipes also existed, and together with other musicians and instrument makers, we revived them. We had to figure everything out from scratch, which was incredibly fun. Before long, I was being invited to play in various settings. That’s also how I met my wife, Judica. She was studying at the conservatory at the time.”

You have always remained active as a musician alongside your work in Wageningen…

“The creative process of making music has always been a great counterbalance to my scientific work. While science also requires creativity, music complements it beautifully. It reminds you that there’s more to life than research, and it introduces you to entirely different people. On the first Sunday of every month, we play at Café De Zaaier in Wageningen. We often receive emails from foreign researchers or students who want to join us. Musicians we’ve met at asylum centres also come along. This adds an emotional dimension to our music, like when we dedicated a song to the murdered Kurdish-Iranian Mahsa Amini. This engagement is something I fully embrace. The culture of making music together has a lot in common with practicing science. In science, you collaborate and build on past knowledge. Traditional music works the same way. You always play slightly differently from previous generations, and when you play together, new combinations emerge. You influence and inspire each other. That’s exactly how I see science: as a process of collaboration and mutual inspiration.”

What are your plans now that you’re retiring?

“I’ve left my work at WUR in good hands, which is reassuring. Now, I want to dedicate more time to music and reading. I hope to explore new genres and collaborate with many musicians. My repertoire has expanded significantly over the years through these collaborations, and I want to continue that journey. Together with my wife, Judica, I look forward to meeting many new people. That’s something I’m truly excited about.”