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To ask “What is Leonardite?” is to pose a question not merely of chemistry but of time itself. It is to hold in one’s hand a fragment of a world that predates humanity by an almost unimaginable gulf and to ask how this dark, vitreous dust, this mineraloid memory, finds its purpose in the accelerated present. Leonardite is not so much a substance as it is a text, a dense, layered narrative written in the slow language of geology. Its story begins in the humid exhalation of ancient forests and ends in the precisely calibrated systems of modern industrial agriculture. Herein lies its central, defining irony: a material born of immense pressure and patience, of a 70-million-year process of transformation, is now packaged, commodified, and deployed to serve the urgent, impatient demands of a single growing season. To understand Leonardite is to read this story of temporal dissonance—to trace the journey of concentrated darkness from the deep past into the cultivated light of a modern field, and to question the nature of the power we wield when we command the earth’s memory to serve our immediate needs.

Part 1:
The Slow Alchemy: How the Earth Writes Leonardite

The story of Leonardite is a drama in two acts, played out on a stage of continental scale and over a span of time that dwarfs human history. It is a tale of burial and resurrection, of pressure and breath, a slow alchemy that transforms life into a substance that can, in turn, quicken life anew.

The First Act: Burial and Compression

The narrative begins in a world without us, perhaps in the Eocene epoch, some 35 to 50 million years ago, or even further back, in the great coal-forming age of the Paleozoic, 280 million years in the past. Imagine vast, swampy landscapes, humid and teeming with a vegetation so lush it would seem alien to the modern eye. In these wetlands, life and death were a seamless cycle. Plants grew, died, and sank into the anaerobic mire, their organic matter accumulating in thick, peaty layers, a dense mat of potential energy. Over millennia, these bogs were buried by the relentless shifting of the earth. Sediments—silt, sand, and clay—piled on top, their weight growing with each passing eon. This burial was an entombment, a slow descent into a world of immense pressure and rising heat, cut off from the oxygen-rich atmosphere.

In this subterranean darkness, the first transformation began. The process of coalification is one of relentless compression and purification. Water was squeezed from the plant tissues, and volatile elements like oxygen and hydrogen were driven off. The once-fibrous, spongy peat slowly hardened, darkened, and concentrated its carbon, becoming lignite—a soft, brownish-black coal, the lowest rank in the carbon hierarchy. This lignite was a dormant thing, a library of ancient sunlight locked away hundreds or thousands of meters below the surface, waiting for the next chapter in its geological story.

Mulch Love's Blog: Leonardite

The Second Act: Exhumation and Oxidation

For millions of years, the lignite seam lay in its geological stasis. Then, the earth itself began to move. Tectonic forces—the slow, inexorable drift of continents—caused the land to fracture, bend, and uplift. Faults cracked the overlying rock, and relentless erosion by wind and water stripped away the protective layers of sediment. This second act was a gradual exhumation, a process that brought the dormant lignite seam back toward the world of light and air. As it neared the surface, it encountered the one element it had been deprived of for eons: atmospheric oxygen.

This encounter did not ignite a fire but began a second, far more subtle transformation. The introduction of oxygen initiated a slow, protracted process of weathering and oxidation that could last for thousands or even millions of years. This was not a destructive force but a creative one. It was a 70-million-year exhalation that fundamentally re-wrote the chemical signature of the lignite, turning it into something entirely new. This new substance, found at the interface between the deep earth and the open sky, was Leonardite.

The Chemical Signature of Transformation

The difference between lignite and Leonardite is the chemical inscription left by this long exposure to oxygen. While a typical lignite has an oxygen content of around 19-20%, Leonardite’s is significantly higher, at 28-29%. This increase is not random; it is concentrated in the formation of a vast number of carboxylic acid groups (). These functional groups are the heart of Leonardite’s power. They are what make it not a fuel, but a potent biological agent. This higher degree of oxidation gives Leonardite a 17-fold increase in solubility in alkaline solutions compared to its parent lignite, a crucial property that makes its chemical treasures accessible.

Here we find the paradox of its value. The very process of oxidation that “spoils” lignite as a fuel source—reducing its caloric value by increasing the oxygen-to-carbon ratio—is precisely what creates Leonardite’s agricultural and chemical worth. Its identity as a valuable commodity is born from the degradation of another. This reveals that the value of a natural substance is not inherent but is defined by the context of its use and the human systems of knowledge that assess it. The earth’s slow alchemy, in its patient work of “decay,” writes a new kind of potential.

Part 2:
The Extracted Soul of Leonardite: Unlocking Humic and Fulvic Acids

If Leonardite is the geological text, then humic and fulvic acids are its active language—the very soul of the substance, extracted and put to work. These complex organic molecules are the agents of its influence, the drivers of its famed bioactivity. They are not fertilizers in the conventional sense of providing bulk nutrients, but rather biostimulants and soil conditioners that fundamentally alter the subterranean environment.

The Agents of Influence

Humic and fulvic acids can be understood through metaphor. Humic acids are the soil’s great architects. These large, complex molecules bind to soil particles, creating stable aggregates.3 This process is a physical re-engineering of the soil, transforming compacted, lifeless ground into a porous, friable structure. This new architecture allows for better aeration, deeper root penetration, and, crucially, superior water retention. Like a microscopic scaffold, humic acids build a home for life, holding nutrients in the root zone and preventing them from leaching away.3

Fulvic acids, by contrast, are the nimble couriers and translators. Smaller and more mobile, they are powerful natural chelators.3 In the soil, many essential micronutrients like iron, zinc, and manganese exist in insoluble mineral forms, locked away from plants. Fulvic acid molecules surround these mineral ions, forming stable, water-soluble complexes that plant roots can easily absorb. They act as a bridge between the inert mineral world and the living biological one, ensuring that vital trace elements are delivered precisely when and where they are needed.3 Together, these two families of molecules orchestrate a symphony of fertility, improving the physical structure, nutrient dynamics, and microbial health of the soil.

The Irony of Liberation

The marketing of Leonardite-derived products leans heavily on their “natural” and “organic” origins. Yet, the process of liberating these potent acids from their mineraloid matrix is often a feat of aggressive industrial chemistry, revealing a deep contradiction. The standard commercial method for extracting humic substances is alkaline leaching. Raw Leonardite is crushed and stirred in a strong alkaline solution, typically potassium hydroxide (KOH) or sodium hydroxide (NaOH). This process dissolves the humic and fulvic acids, separating them from the insoluble mineral matter like quartz, clay, and silica that make up the bulk of the raw ore.

This journey from the earth to the bag represents a profound transformation. A complex, heterogeneous natural material is subjected to a powerful chemical process to isolate its “active ingredients.” This act of industrial purification turns a piece of the geological world into a standardized, controllable, and marketable input. It imposes a human-designed order on natural complexity, making it legible and useful within the rigid logic of an industrial agricultural system. The existence of companies that explicitly market their purely mechanical, chemical-free “activation” processes as a point of differentiation serves only to highlight how deeply entrenched the chemical norm has become. The “natural soul” of Leonardite is, more often than not, liberated by profoundly unnatural means.

Part 3:
A Name for the Dust: The Human History of Leonardite

A substance can exist for millions of years, but it only enters human history when it is given a name. The act of naming is an act of power and knowledge; it brings a piece of the world into a system of classification, making it an object of study, discourse, and, ultimately, exploitation. The story of Leonardite’s human discovery is a case study in how scientific and economic frameworks create and destroy value, transforming a nuisance into a resource.

The Act of Naming

The name “Leonardite” honors Dr. Arthur Gray Leonard, a geologist who became the first director of the North Dakota Geological Survey in 1903 and held the post for a record 29 years until his death in 1932. Born in New York in 1865, Leonard was a dedicated field scientist who earned his Ph.D. from Johns Hopkins University and spent much of his career mapping the vast lignite coal deposits of western North Dakota. Traveling by train and then by horse and wagon, he meticulously documented the state’s geology, and it was in recognition of his pioneering work on the oxidized outcrops of these lignite seams that the material was named for him. This act of naming, sometime in the early 20th century, formally distinguished Leonardite from lignite, marking it as a unique material worthy of scientific inquiry. It was the first step in constructing its new identity.

From Nuisance to Resource

For decades, this identity remained largely academic. The substance’s true entry into the commercial world is best captured by a story from the Ariño valley in Teruel, Spain, during the 1970s. The Samca Group was mining black lignite for energy, but miners were frequently frustrated by seams that would suddenly transform into a black, staining “dust.” This material was a curse; it was soft, messy, and, most damningly, it would not burn. It was a worthless sterilant that contaminated the valuable coal.

This narrative perfectly illustrates how a substance’s value is dictated by the dominant economic paradigm. Within the discourse of energy, where value is measured in BTUs, Leonardite was failed coal—a flaw in the earth, a financial liability. Its unique chemical properties were invisible to the “energy gaze.”

The Great Re-definition

The shift occurred when a new framework of knowledge was applied. Following local traditions of farmers who used the strange dust on their fields, the company’s geologist, Joaquín Lahoz, began to research the material. He discovered that this useless dust was, in fact, the mineraloid Leonardite, extraordinarily rich in humic acids. This re-definition, mirroring research from the US Bureau of Mines in the 1960s which had already demonstrated yield increases in crops treated with crushed Leonardite, was a moment of profound economic alchemy.

The worthless dust was suddenly a valuable resource. The discourse shifted from energy to agriculture, and the company Daymsa was founded in 1979 with the specific mission to mine not the coal, but the “dust” that lay on top of it. The material itself had not changed, but the human system of value had. The story of Leonardite is a powerful reminder that the “resources” we extract from the earth do not have inherent value; their worth is actively constructed by our scientific knowledge, our technological capabilities, and our economic desires.

Part 4:
A Catalog of Earthly Amendments: Leonardite and Its Kin

To understand Leonardite is to place it in conversation with its kin, the other great organic amendments used to enrich the soil. Adopting the spirit of a Calvino-esque catalog, we can see Leonardite, compost, and biochar not as interchangeable products, but as three distinct philosophies for returning the memory of life to the earth. Each represents a different timescale, a different process, and a different promise.

  • Compost: The Feast of the Ephemeral. Compost is a riot of microbial life, a rapid, hot, and celebratory decomposition of fresh organic waste. It is the philosophy of the present moment. Rich in immediately available nutrients and teeming with beneficial bacteria and fungi, it provides a direct and generous feast for the soil food web. Its effects, however, are relatively fleeting. Like any great feast, it is consumed quickly, and its benefits diminish over a season or two as its organic matter is fully broken down.3 It is a gift of abundance, but an ephemeral one.
  • Biochar: The Skeleton of Fire. Biochar is a ghost, the stark and permanent carbon skeleton of biomass that has been transformed by fire in the absence of oxygen (pyrolysis). It is the philosophy of building a permanent future. Lacking in readily available nutrients, its value lies in its incredible porosity and recalcitrance. This carbon lattice is a lasting architecture—a microscopic reef that provides a permanent habitat for microbes, holds vast amounts of water, and can effectively sequester heavy metals, preventing their uptake by plants. It is a promise of structure and stability that can endure for centuries.
  • Leonardite: The Memory of Deep Time. Leonardite is the dense, concentrated memory of a world long dead. It is the philosophy of awakening the past to catalyze the present. Low in the macronutrients that define compost, its power lies in its unparalleled concentration of ancient, stable humic substances—the slow-acting chemical agents that orchestrate fertility over the long term.3 It is not a meal, but a potent elixir, a dose of deep time that reawakens the soil’s own latent potential.

This lyrical distinction is grounded in stark scientific differences, which are critical for proper application. A failure to understand these differences can lead to unintended harm, undermining the simplistic marketing of these substances as universally beneficial.

Feature Leonardite Compost Biochar
Source Oxidized Lignite Decomposed Organic Waste 1 Pyrolyzed Biomass
Stability/Longevity Very High (Recalcitrant) 3 Low to Medium 3 Very High (Recalcitrant)
Humic Acid Content Very High (up to 90%) Variable, Moderate Low (develops over time) 1
Nutrient Content Low (Trace Minerals) 3 High (Macro & Micro) Low (Variable Ash Content) 1
Impact on pH Can significantly lower pH Generally Neutral to Alkaline 1 Generally Alkaline
Water Retention High 3 High 1 Very High 1
Heavy Metal Sequestration Low (can mobilize metals) Moderate High

The most critical distinction revealed in this comparison is the impact on pH and heavy metals. Research has shown that while alkaline biochar is highly effective at adsorbing and immobilizing heavy metals like cadmium and zinc, the inherent acidity of Leonardite can have the opposite effect. In one study, Leonardite amendments significantly lowered soil pH and led to higher concentrations of leached heavy metals compared to an unamended control, suggesting it actively mobilized the contaminants. This finding shatters the narrative of Leonardite as a simple, benign “natural” conditioner. It is a powerful chemical agent whose application requires a sophisticated understanding of soil chemistry. To apply it incorrectly is not merely ineffective; it can be actively detrimental.

Part 5:
The Biopower of the Soil: Leonardite in the Age of Agricultural Control

To complete our understanding of Leonardite, we must situate it within the dominant power structures of modern agriculture. The story of this ancient substance culminates in its role as a tool within a thoroughly modern system of knowledge and control, one best understood through the lens of Michel Foucault’s concept of “biopower.”

Constructing “Soil Health”

In recent decades, the concept of “soil health” has moved to the forefront of agricultural discourse. While rooted in holistic ecological principles, this concept has been systematically rationalized and commodified. Soil health is no longer just a qualitative state of being but a set of quantifiable metrics—organic matter percentage, microbial activity, water infiltration rates—that can be measured, managed, and, most importantly, assigned economic value.4 The soil has become an object of what Foucault termed “governmentality”: a domain to be known, surveyed, optimized, and disciplined for the purpose of maximizing productivity and profit. Federal programs, carbon markets, and corporate sustainability initiatives all treat soil health as a manageable system, a new frontier for intervention and control.5

Leonardite as a Technology of Biopower

Within this framework, Leonardite emerges as a quintessential technology of biopower. Foucault defined biopower as a modern form of power that moves beyond the sovereign’s right to “take life or let live” to a new imperative: to “foster life or disallow it to the point of death”. It is a power that manages populations, seeking to optimize their biological processes for the good of the state or the economy. In modern agriculture, the “population” is the crop, and biopower is exercised through a vast array of techniques—from genetic modification to precision fertilization—designed to make this population more productive, resilient, and profitable.

Leonardite, as a potent biostimulant, fits perfectly into this paradigm. It is a technology designed not simply to feed the plant, but to manage its life processes at a fundamental level. Its application is intended to “incite, reinforce, control, monitor, optimize, and organize the forces” of life within the soil-plant system. It enhances nutrient uptake, stimulates metabolic activity, and improves stress resistance, making the entire biological enterprise more efficient and predictable. It is a tool for administering and managing life itself.

The Abstraction of the Earth

This function becomes particularly significant in the context of the widespread commodification of farmland. A growing percentage of agricultural land is now owned not by the people who work it, but by absentee landlords, pension funds, and institutional investors who may be a continent away.2 For these owners, land is not a place or a community; it is a line item in a portfolio, an abstract financial asset.

In this system of detached ownership, a product like Leonardite is the ideal input. It is a standardized, concentrated, and powerful agent that allows for the remote management of the soil’s biological functions. An investor can authorize the application of a humic acid product to “improve soil health” and “increase yield” on their asset without ever needing to walk the land, understand its specific ecology, or engage in the intimate, place-based knowledge of stewardship. Leonardite and similar products facilitate the final abstraction of the soil, making its very vitality a discrete, manageable, and purchasable input.

Conclusion: A question of time

We return, then, to our initial question: What is Leonardite? It is a geological memory, a chemical catalyst, a historical artifact, and a commercial product. But perhaps most profoundly, it is a mirror reflecting our contemporary relationship with the earth. We have taken a substance born of 70 million years of patience, decay, and geological chance, and made it an instrument in a system predicated on speed, efficiency, and control. We use this fragment of deep time to erase the consequences of our own agricultural haste.

The soil, as Wendell Berry wrote, is “the great connector of our lives, the source and destination of all”.6 Leonardite, in its modern incarnation, both affirms and challenges this truth. It connects us to a past so deep it is almost beyond comprehension, yet it is deployed in a way that can deepen the disconnect between the land and its stewards. It forces us to ask a final, critical question. Can we see this dark dust as something more than a tool for optimization? Can this messenger from an ancient world remind us of a different kind of agriculture, one based not on the biopower of control, but on what Berry called “kindly use” —a relationship of respect for the slow, mysterious, and uncontrollable life of the soil itself?

Leonardite and Humic and Fulvic Acids are a natural, balanced solution for enhancing soil fertility. They provide a steady release of bioactive compounds that improve nutrient availability, stimulate microbial activity, and promote strong root systems.

For cannabis and hemp cultivators, Leonardite means: • Enhanced soil organic matter
• Robust root and plant growth
• Improved flowering and crop quality

By incorporating Leonardite into your soil management routine, you nurture a living ecosystem that supports every stage of plant development. Whether you are preparing your soil for a new crop or enhancing an established garden, Leonardite offers a reliable, sustainable alternative to synthetic fertilizers.

Embrace these natural amendments to unlock the hidden potential of your soil. Use the best practices outlined above and monitor your crop’s progress. With careful application and an integrated organic approach, Leonardite will help you achieve vibrant, healthy, and resilient cannabis and hemp plants.

Investing in Leonardite today means investing in the long-term vitality of your garden. Enjoy the benefits of improved soil structure, balanced nutrients, and a thriving microbial community that will yield high-quality harvests season after season.