FARMER LABELS

Soybean farmers have been much in the news lately.  Losing a quarter of their market when China didn't come back to the table has put commodity soybeans in a real bind.  With a bumper crop coming, price dropping, and rising fertilizer and chemical costs, the bean counters at USDA forecast a LOSS of $200 per acre on this year's crop.

                  I haven't heard a single soybean farmer say "I'm going to do something else."  The chorus coming to Washington sings one thing:  "find us markets, bail us out, build more biodiesel plants, etc."   They're all expecting taxpayers via government policy to keep them in business.  President Trump and Sec. of Ag Brooke Rollins are huddling to figure out whether to give $10 billion or $12 billion to help them out.  What's $2 billion among friends? 

                  As I've listened to the calls crescendo, I'm struck by soybean farmers' inability to consider alternatives.  This cropland is some of the richest in the world--you don't grow soybeans, or corn for that matter, on rangeland.  The best, most fertile soils are where we grow crops. 

                  That means they can grow anything.  Ground that will grow decent crops of soybeans will grow unbelievable amounts of grass, clovers, and forbs.  In fact, all these acres used today to grow soybeans not long ago were the heart of perennial polyculture prairies supporting more nutrition through bison, wolves, elk, prairie chickens, passenger pigeons, bear, and deer.  We've regressed in abundance, not progressed.

                  The deep soul-level reason why soybean farmers can't imagine pivoting is because they've allowed themselves a narrow, regimented identity to what they produce.  Rather than being seen as overall caretakers of a niche of God's creation, we farmers tend to stamp our identity out of the item we produce.  This becomes a mental and emotional straitjacket when markets and circumstances change and reason demands adaptation. 

                  We farmers should get in the habit of giving our vocation first in terms of stewardship rather than through what we grow.  I'm a caretaker or steward of X number of acres; I'm responsible for its health, long-term flourishing and overall resilience FIRST.  After that, yes, I produce this and this and this.

                  But when a farmer introduces himself as "a soybean farmer," it confines the mind with a narrow label.  This is especially acute when we have simultaneous shortages screaming for attention.  Right now, U.S. cattle numbers are the lowest they've been since the 1940s.  The shortage is a result of numerous things:  drought in the bottom half of the country from 2021-2023; an embargo on Mexican imports due to the screw worm; aging and dying farmers exiting the business. 

                  At today's prices, converting soybean acreage to well-managed perennial polyculture prairies could swing profitability form NEGATIVE $200 per acre to a POSITIVE $1,000 per acre.  On a 1,000 acre operation, that's a pretty dramatic shift.  But in order to do that, a farmer needs to view his vocation as an overall steward of land.  Anyone who diminishes farming to a commodity label automatically and inherently reduces options. 

                  We could blame tariffs.  We could blame crop subsidies.  We could blame biofuels subsidies and tax concessions.  We could blame the Chicago Board of Trade, China, Argentina, and U.S. foreign policy.  But blaming doesn't get us out of a rut; only clear-headed alternatives get us out of a rut.  While my heart breaks for these soybean farmers, what I really want to see is someone breaking out of the mob and saying "I'm going to quit soybean farming and go to prehistoric caretaking."   

                  When people ask me what I do, I respond, "I get to massage a little piece of God's creation, and that's a real privilege."  Like all massage, the soreness needs move around.  I need to be ready and willing to move with it.  Which means the more diversity I have in my farming operation, the easier it is to pivot when contexts change.   For the first time in 

American history, our nation imports 20 percent of its food.  That's one in every five bites.  Meanwhile we're in spasms over soybean exports.

                  What other things could soybean farmers grow?