Finding The Seam: How Small Farmers Can Thrive

I grew up in a land of sluggish, muddy streams and bodies of still water. As a result, I came late to the practice of fly fishing, having reached college before I cast my first fly. I started on farm ponds, casting for bass and bream and caught my first trout on Warwoman Creek in the mountains of North Georgia. For a number of years now, at the end of each summer, I have joined a friend of mine for a week of trout fishing in southwestern Montana.

One of the keys to trout fishing is to locate the fish. A common rule of thumb is that only about 10% of a stream, in a given spot, is holding fish. Success comes in knowing where the fish are. They tend to linger in deeper water for the shelter it offers, allowing them to stay hidden beneath the strong current above. Undercut banks and the back side of rocks where the current is slower also serve as good sheltering spots. But fish have to feed, and this normally occurs where a strong current brings the food downstream to them so that they can save energy, acquiring more food in a shorter period of time. The best of both worlds, and where most of the fish prefer to be, is where water hits a rock or a log that disrupts the current or at a bend in the stream or at the head or tail of a deep pool. These locations create a slower stream where trout can find shelter and food without using a lot of precious energy. These places where the fast and slow-moving water occur next to each other are termed seams, and they offer that golden window where a trout may be found.

Perhaps there are seams in farming as well. You just have to know where to look. Not long ago, a manager of a large pecan farm of several thousand acres said to me, “I don’t see how the small guy with 100 acres or less can still make it in this business.” I certainly see where he’s coming from. All the data bear it out.

The 2022 Census of Agriculture released by USDA tells the story in stark black and white. The number of farms in the U.S. has decreased by 11% over the last 20 years. The value of farmland has increased by 217% in that stretch of time. This would appear to be a good thing, but bear in mind, as land values increase so do property taxes. Also, as land values increase it becomes increasingly hard for new or small farmers to buy land. The market value of crops has increased by 203%, which sounds good, but again such numbers can be deceiving.

Depending on how you look at it, farmers get from 7.9-14.9 cents of every dollar spent on food (some methods of measuring this remove 7 cents for the farmer’s transportation expense), while the marketing share, which is responsible for processing and packaging agricultural products into convenient units for American consumers is about 85 cents. That’s nearly an all-time low for farmers, and certainly the lowest in the last 30 years. The cost of farm machinery from 2002 to 2022 has increased by 147%. The cost of fertilizers has increased by 271%. Pesticides have increased by 210%. Add all this together and there’s not a lot left.

These are the hard statistics defining the economics of farm markets that are making it difficult for the average person to farm. The most telling statistic is the following: The number of family farms has decreased by 15% since 2002, while the number of corporate farms has increased by 73%. This statistic should alarm us all.

One can farm the land only if the economics work. Land is expensive. Equipment is expensive. Time is expensive. Not everyone can do this and fewer truly want to. Even fewer want to do it as their sole source of income. Many of my friends are full-time farmers, and I respect them greatly for the courage and confidence it takes to have your entire livelihood resting on the fate of a crop.

The idea that we like to keep in our minds of the family farmer growing our food, caring for the land, and raising a family on that land is an old idea that has been dying an excruciatingly slow death since the 1960s. But America’s family farmers are aging out. They are not passing on their farms because of the difficulty in competing with corporate farms run by boards of directors, most of whom never lay eyes on the farm. Such investors are in it for the money and the money alone. They can fund the acquisition of large landholdings and sell their product cheaper than the old school family farmer because they are producing at scale, which largely translates into more quantity and less quality. By the time we stop to look around at what we have lost or are losing, it is often too late to stop it. But is there another way? Once a machine like this gets momentum, is there a way to exist alongside it? Is there a seam one can fit into, or was the manager of that large pecan farm correct?

From the perspective of making a living solely from working the land, I won’t say he’s wrong. That is becoming harder and harder. I’m not sure what the future holds for such an endeavor. But one can still be a farmer and care for the land without relying solely on the business of farming to support a family. In fact, most of them do. As of 2022, around 84% of farm households have off-farm income. Some would call what I’ve described above as a hobby farmer. I don’t. The fact of the matter is that if the average person wants to farm nowadays, they need an off-farm income.

I farm pecans in southern Georgia on land that has been in my family since the 1890s and on other nearby land that I have been fortunate enough to purchase over the last 6 years or so. My gross farm income is about twice the income of my full-time job. I’m glad to have it. It has allowed me to buy more land, to take my family on nice vacations, to more easily pay for my children’s college educations, and to enjoy other quality of life aspects with less worry. These, along with the simple desire to work with the land, were my goals going in. I never planned to get rich farming, and anyone who does, is setting themselves up for failure. Some years it requires as much as 70% of my farm income to continue the business of farming, and that is while doing everything I can think of to cut costs.

I am not so naïve as to expect our federal government to totally revamp an agricultural policy that has been in effect for over 50 years and greases the wheels of global trade and the corporate donors who fund that policy. I am not calling for a total redistribution of the playing field, but I am saying that in order for American agriculture to perpetually support its population and properly steward the natural resources on which it and we depend, the system must give families and individuals who want to remain on the land an opportunity to do so, regardless of the size of the farming operation. We just need a fair chance to find that seam into which we can cast.

What do I mean by that? I think there’s a way to farm a “small” acreage, even now. But it is getting harder and harder. It requires one to keep costs low (sometimes this is beyond one’s control), do much of the work in house, and develop non-traditional/diverse markets. It is also important for people to have a goal other than making money. Making money is absolutely necessary, but for family farmers it can’t be the only goal. There must be other incentives that are deeply rooted in the meaning of family, community, and land.

I am not totally against global trade as A market, but I do oppose it as THE market. It is not realistic to think we will willingly get the global trade cat back into the bag. And maybe we shouldn’t. Farmers of all sizes can benefit from it under the right circumstances. It is the way of the world we live in, like it or not, as long as people of different nations can communicate and interact easily across the oceans. But the global market is not the only market, nor should it be the primary base market that supports any industry as vital to a nation’s national security and management of natural resources as is agriculture. I have seen first-hand how reliance on global markets can create short-term gain but inflict long-term pain and instability when the bubble bursts. A healthy agriculture requires as much diversity in as many different areas as possible, including its’ markets.

As an illustration, let me offer my own experience, which I will attempt to keep as brief as possible. As with fly-fishing, I came late to the practice of farming. I began farming pecans in 2005. I had been around agriculture my entire life but had never farmed. I was trained and worked as an extension agent and agricultural scientist. At 34 years old, I became the first person in our family to actually work the land since my great-grandfather in the late 1960s. Between our times on the land, the entire farm was leased out to another farmer. We still lease much of the farm for someone else to grow cotton, corn, peanuts, and watermelons. I do realize the advantage that starting my pecan operation on land already paid for provided. I realize the advantage of having some income from leasing part of the farm. But it still wasn’t easy.

I initially planted 25 acres of pecans in a non-irrigated row crop field. This was the least income-generating, cultivated land on the farm at the time, largely because there were no irrigation pivots snaking across it to increase its value. I realize that pecans are an obscure crop to most people, so for those who may not know, it takes about 6 years for a pecan tree to generate enough pecans to harvest and another two to four years for those harvests to become large enough that you can actually make more money than you spend. So while these trees were growing into production on my own land, I leased from an aunt another 18-acre orchard planted by my great-grandfather on the family farm. I installed irrigation in the orchard and inter-planted it with new and more productive varieties to maximize its production. Thus, for the first several years I grew pecans, I operated at no net profit and, more often than not, at a net loss. Fortunately, I didn’t depend on it to support my family.

About 5 years into my adventure, China unexpectedly acquired a taste for pecans and demand for the nuts exploded. The price of pecans instantly doubled. It was a rare case for me of being at the right place at the right time. Knowing that all bubbles one day burst, I took advantage of this opportunity to grow the operation a little larger than I had originally intended. Over the next 15 years, I leased and later dropped another orchard down the road, bought two other nearby farms, and increased my pecan acreage to about 100 acres, having learned over the intervening years that this was the maximum acreage I had time to properly care for while still handling the responsibilities of family and a full-time job. One hundred acres may sound like a lot to the uninitiated, but in the world of pecan production in the largest pecan producing state, it is very small.

Of the 100 acres I grow, 37% of my orchards are composed of high input varieties requiring a lot of attention and input, but about 70% of this 37% brings a premium price that justifies that cost and provides early income. 39% of my acreage is comprised of moderately resistant varieties, which are highly productive with much less cost than the two high input varieties. The remaining 24% is composed of varieties requiring the bare minimum input costs and the greatest profit margin potential. I wish they comprised more.

In 2018, the Trump trade tariffs obliterated the pecan export market. Commercial market prices of in-shell pecans were immediately cut in half and remain low to this day. I am fortunate that only 12% of my acreage is comprised of high input/low value varieties, and I plan to change them out over time to something requiring less input cost. But I had prepared for this by more than doubling my original acreage with better varieties when times were good to help the cash flow by the time the bubble burst. Unfortunately, it happened a little sooner than I expected. So I had to come up with an additional plan.

Remember that statistic from earlier demonstrating that the marketing share of every dollar spent on food is 85%? Taking on some of this marketing share is where the real opportunity lies for increasing farm income. Recognizing that the only way to increase the price I received for my crop was to take more control of getting it to the consumer, I began shelling one variety, a little at the time, growing the percentage of it that I shelled each year. I created a website, came up with a logo, got on social media, and started selling shelled kernels in small volume packages—three to five lbs at the time. I supplemented this by selling some kernels in bulk boxes in volumes of 10-20 cases per order to a few local retail stores. Within 3 years, I was shelling and selling 10% of my total crop this way. In 5 years, I had to start supplementing this by shelling an additional variety. I could market more of my crop myself with a little effort but, at the moment, I don’t have the time to devote more attention to it until I retire from my full-time job in a few years.

By directly participating in the marketing of my crop, after the cost of shelling and packaging, I am doubling my take-home income on these pecans compared to what I would receive on the traditional commercial market. This is only on roughly 10% of my overall pecan crop, but it makes a tremendous difference to the overall income of the operation. I never wanted to deal with the marketing side of farming, but this little bit of extra effort allowed my operation to remain healthy and viable.

What about the safety regulations of selling shelled pecans some may ask? After all, there is strict government regulation for food processing, much of which is expensive and enormously time-consuming. This too works against the small farmer. Because I hire the shelling process out to a safety-certified sheller who also packages the kernels in sealed bags, I don’t have to worry about that. A contamination issue from my pecans would be devastating to my business. But, from a legal standpoint, any potential food safety issues would fall back to the processor, who has already implemented the food safety protocols, which are designed to eliminate such events. The fact that pecans come from the tree packaged in a sealed shell and the edible kernels remain in that shell until shelling in a certified facility also provides a high degree of food safety. The value I get from my sheller is not only found in the processing and packaging itself, but also in handling the food safety responsibility of that product.

In addition to adding value to my crop, I have the satisfaction of hearing from individual customers who tell me how much they love my pecans. I have been surprised by how rewarding it has been to make those connections and see that the food I am growing is going to real people. Whether those customers buy online, hear about my pecans on social media, buy them from me a few bags at the time out of my truck, or buy them in a store, it is another way of fostering community.

Care of the land is a serious matter to me. That includes the land, the soil, and everything that lives in, on, and around it. The whole idea is for those who responsibly care for their land to be given the opportunity to do so without being forced out of this occupation by bad government policy. However, sometimes there are government policies that actually get it right. Such is the case with the conservation programs that allow one to supplement farm income by caring for land. This shouldn’t be the reason for that care, but farmers need money, the land and the things that live on it need protecting, and conservation programs offer opportunities to achieve both goals.

There is money set aside by USDA with which to pay someone for taking care of the land. Why not participate? These programs encourage a rare responsibility for the future in the public conversation. Small farmers often get overlooked, or think they won’t qualify, or simply don’t know what programs are available. But they are just as entitled to these funds as are large producers. Local USDA Natural Resource Conservation offices can explain the requirements and sign-up process for programs like the Conservation Security Program, which pays producers for both conservation measures they are already using and provides incentive payments to adopt new practices, like use of cover crops, soil moisture monitoring, erosion control, and the planting of pollinator strips along field borders, just to name a few.

I participate in these programs myself, and they have helped me to implement practices that I may not have implemented otherwise due to the cost. However, now that I see their full value, I continue the practices after the payments end. Farmers take some criticism, and some of it is justified, for taking government funds. But, when taken seriously, conservation programs are one form of payment in which everyone wins. The idea of paying farmers a little to care for the land instead of propping up the bloated commodity system with payments that benefit the bureaucratic system and agribusiness is much more palatable to most people. If we aren’t going to pay farmers for the full value of the food they grow, maybe we can pay them a little bit to steward the land for us? Conservation payments won’t save the farm financially, but they aren’t intended to do so. They do, however, help supplement farm income and allow farmers some guidance, serving as a doorway into the world of conservation.

I recognize that growing food on the land in a way that allows one the satisfaction of producing something in partnership with the land and other people is good. It is a privilege. I find pleasure in it. It connects me to the land and to previous generations of my family, and for more than any other reason, that is why I do it. I don’t view the land as a commodity, but as a living, breathing blessing that I am here to protect during my time of responsibility.

My response to the manager of that large orchard that day was swift and decisive, largely because I am one of those small guys, and I’ve thought about this a lot. I can tell you how a small farmer can make it. But, like that narrow seam where the trout lay, there’s only a small window. And, who knows? That may change, just as streams do.

“You’re looking at it all wrong,” I said. “The small guy is not farming for the same reasons and, therefore, shouldn’t be farming in the same way as a large guy. The small guy likely has a job off the farm, he has almost no labor cost because he does most of the work himself, his land is either paid for or has a low enough payment that he doesn’t have to spend his entire net earnings on high land payments. Though he has old equipment, it still works and most of it is paid for. He doesn’t borrow the money to farm. He simply has a set budget that he knows he can spend on growing his crop each year. He’s not living solely off his farm income and, should worse come to worse, he can take some time off from farming, eliminate expenses, lease out his land, etc. and still be economically solvent. He can be more flexible in the marketing of his crop and can more easily plug into a direct-to-consumer market via internet or mom and pop retailers because he’s not trying to move an enormous amount of volume in bulk. In many ways, the small producer is much better suited to handle unstable markets if he does things the right way.” He has to fit into that narrow seam.

Where the fast and slow moving economies run alongside one another, the small farmer must settle into these slow lanes of less intensive farming—utilizing low-input varieties that produce high volume and more diverse market options, including a slower, niche market, to at least supplement, if not totally comprise, the farm income. In doing so, like the trout in the seam, the small farmer uses less resources to find the shelter he seeks. The tendency for most people is to dive in headfirst and try to grow too big too fast. At times I’ve been amazed at how fish could be found in the smallest streams or in the most nondescript little stretch of water. From my perspective, it is important to start small and know your limits. It requires a knowledge of the land, the climate, the market, and the crop you are growing.

Resilience is one of the buzz words you see used in circles referencing agricultural philosophy, alongside words like organic, regenerative, or sustainable. I don’t pigeonhole my philosophy of farming with trendy labels. But the term resilience doesn’t bother me as much as these other terms because it has an actual meaning. Farming anything, especially a perennial crop like pecans, should be done with long range goals in mind, and one must be flexible so that the operation can be resilient enough to push through the hard times, of which there will be many.

The key to survival in farming, as with anything, is moderation. The powers that be and conventional thinking say a farming operation like mine is doomed. But it may not be. My own practical experience tells me otherwise, at least for now. I acknowledge that my experience is unique, but there are many ways to inhabit the seam of low input costs and new/diverse markets.

Like fly fishing, farming requires knowledge, skill, and experiential learning, often about things we don’t necessarily want to learn. Things like diesel engines, electrical wiring, how to repair mechanical breakdowns, how to create a website, social media interaction, and shipping packages through the post office. It requires a willingness to work, creativity, and a new set of goals.

The goals of a good farmer should not be centered on money or building financial wealth alone. Money is a necessary tool. But money is just that, a tool. There are much easier ways to make money than farming. The primary goal of a good farmer is to find success in caring for one’s land, community, and family.

Low input costs translate into practical management decisions like growing resistant crops, a diversity of crops, or several varieties of a single crop, doing much of the work yourself, being efficient in the use of resources like water, fertilizer, and fuel. This requires a knowledge of the crop, the land, and the environment in which it is grown. Local markets, or any markets outside the traditional commercial market, tend to bring higher prices to the farmer. Whether these markets are found in the form of local stores and internet sales as mine is, or in the form of local restaurants or direct-to-consumer channels, they can significantly boost the farmer’s overall profit margin, even when done on a small scale. In addition, they connect the farmer to other actual human beings. This is good for the farmer, the customer, and the local economy. Finding these seams can allow more farmers to stay on the land. They make farmers good neighbors. When there are more farmers on the land, they are more bound to each other by similar problems and share in a belonging that can enrich the community around them. Finding the seams in which this belonging is fostered is one way we might restore local rural communities and get back some of what we have lost.

Image via Blue Mountains Conservation Society