There was an old tradition in which ancient and indigenous brewers would pour a little bit of the first batch of beer into the corners of the brewing hut - or into the soil in a certain place, or whatever form that particular tradition would take - as an offering to the entities that made that fermentation possible, such as the earth that birthed the plants used, or in honor of the wild yeasts whose work made such a thing possible.
The idea was to share or give back something you'd consider valuable. This is something you would do with someone you cared about or respected, like a neighbor coming back with some apples to give you after the sapling you gave them grew up and began to produce. It wouldn't carry the same meaning to offer some waste or biproduct anyway.
Contrast that practice with what you would likely find in a commercial brewing operation, in which something like that would be considered unsanitary and a little wasteful, where every last drop is conserved as a source of value. This is of course a constructed example rendered in a starker contrast: there are all sorts of different traditions and holdovers in the modern world, but those basic and archetypal differences do crop up.
The contrast in this case is less intended as criticism - which could be done, but which would take a far greater amount of argument to address - and more an observation that a whole set of practices and traditions can arise out a certain quality of consciousness and intention, which is both inculcated culturally and reproduces the culture.
And differences in these forms of consciousness and their related practices can yield profoundly different effects and results, effects and results which widen and deepen as the culture is cyclically reproduced and spread and working on the earth.
