Never eat food your grandparents didn’t eat, a wise old Mesopotamian once told me.  What did he mean? It takes our bodies two generations to adapt to changes in the food chain. By this logic, Big Agriculture’s messing around with genetically modified organisms could (armies of nasty, high-priced lawyers please note my use of the conditional here) have something to do with a generation of folks who have turned off gluten. Just maybe.

While tens of millions of dollars have been pumped into the campaigns for and against (though mainly against) Question 1 on the forthcoming referendum, nary a nickel has been spent educating us about Question 3, it seems. A yes on 3 could amend the Maine State Constitution to enshrine a Right to Food. When we have Hannafords and Shaws and even Fresh Off the Farm and the Belfast Co-op, why should we need such a thing?

The reason is what we consider to be food is under constant attack, both by Wall Street and the administrative state.

Last month, Fortune reported that the New York Stock Exchange has developed a new kind of listing vehicle called a Natural Asset Company, or NAC. These will allow “governments, farmers, and other owners of natural assets … to form a specialized corporation that holds the rights to the ecosystem services produced on a given chunk of land, services like carbon sequestration or clean water.” Much like the Clean Energy Corridor, this sounds perfectly wholesome, but is it?

What NACs do is monetize investors’ notion of what food is. Just as the “Clean Energy Corridor” is really about using Maine as a throughway to pump Canadian power into Massachusetts, dominion over “rights to the ecosystem services” is a precariously vague open door to be governed by Wall Street. Any veteran of the back-to-the-earth movement of the 1960s and ’70s will warn you to be careful of such constructs.

Larry in Lincolnville’s notion of what sustainable produce is could suddenly be squashed by whatever standard Laurence in Long Island (who commutes to his office at Goldman Sachs by helicopter) deems superior.

The markets, at least, have more regard for democracy than the administrative state.

Consider for a moment what happened to that Beethoven symphony of super-governance, the European Union, when Brussels started dictating to the continent’s farmers what a tomato looks like. Poor Romanian farmers literally got plowed under. When bureaucrats in Belgium declared war on the English egg, we got Brexit. Was it worth it? While some bespeckled PhD in the office of standards might say yes, absolument, everyone else is a bit more skeptical.

My next door neighbor in Bath used to have free range chickens, and while this confused Pepper the Dog — whom I more than once had to restrain from eating them — the rest of us in the community were fine with it. Then one day early this summer the chickens disappeared. At first I thought perhaps they were dusting their feathers on Georgetown. But when I finally asked my neighbor what happened, she said with a frown that the city’s animal control officer had nixed the chicks because they were within 75 feet of the river.

Could the mighty Kennebec withstand a little chicken poo? Probably, but let’s give local self-governance its due. Delegate the same authority to Washington, D.C.?  No, thank you.

If you trust the same rocket scientists who tried to shut down the Maine lobster industry with rolling out more diktats, this time for Maine’s farmers, then you probably don’t think we need Question 3. But I don’t trust them for a D.C. minute (which, unlike a New York minute, is longer than the standard one because of the federal government’s innate dysfunction).

If a “yes” on Question 3 prevails, Maine will be the first state in the nation to establish a right to food. Let Archer Daniel Midlands take us to court. I’ll be the first to break out the popcorn — made to my own specifications.