Could I Ever Afford to be a Farmer?

Farming can be very capital intensive.  Said another way, you may very well need to have a lot of money up front to start farming.  When I was in college, this idea haunted me.  I really wanted to farm, but was it even possible?  How could someone with a net worth of approximately $500 and no income stream to speak of afford to buy property, buildings, equipment, animals, and supplies to begin farming?

To a great degree, I was trapped by a rigid mental paradigm from which I could not break free.  I had the idea that I needed to buy all of these things to start farming.  I had the idea that the only way I could buy these things was by borrowing.  I was also convinced that the only way I could qualify for a loan was if I could prove that I didn't need the loan by having adequate assets to act as collateral.  I remember at the time, the cheapest dairy farm I could find was being offered for $250,000.  At the time, a good starter home was selling for $60,000.  I was nowhere near close to qualifying for a starter home, so how could I possibly qualify to buy a $250,000 dairy farm?  This thought weighed heavy on my mind.  Inflation has taken its toll, and now those numbers seem almost trivial, but the relationship still exists.  In this neck of the woods, a nice starter home is probably $180,000 or so and the smallest dairy you could find in the area is probably $1,000,000.

                                 

After much mental anguish and hand wringing, I came to the conclusion that as a young man without inheriting a farm, there was no realistic way for me to be able be a farmer on my own farm.  I was not interested in spending my life as a farm laborer, working for other farmers.  The idea of being a full-time farmer began to slip away.  I was conceding defeat.  I began to think of my "farm" more as a lifestyle or self-sufficiency type "homestead" or farmstead.  My future farm would be to provide for the needs of my family.  I began thinking that my farm would grow great food, sustainably, probably not for sale.  I would enjoy the diversion from my unknown career path, and I would still be able to help my kids see the joys, struggles, and benefits of farming.

This moment was a tough one for me.  On one hand, I felt as if I was giving up.  On the other hand, I also felt like I was acknowledging the reality of the situation.  I saw this as one of those "grow up" moments most of us have as we reconcile dreams and reality.  I would not seriously consider the writings of Thoreau until much later in life, but one quote from Walden that has struck a chord with me was this, "The youth gets together his materials to build a bridge to the moon, or, perchance, a palace or temple on earth, and, at length, the middle-aged man concludes to build a woodshed with them."  Was I getting prematurely old?  Was I giving up on life and lowering my expectations to a low goal with a high probability of easy attainment?  These were all questions circling my mind as I came to this conclusion.

I have reflected on this decision many times over the past 30 years or so.  Life gives a person experience and perspective.  I have learned that the paradigm from which I made the decision I made about farming was naively constrained.  I made my decision with very little information.  I made my decision with very little perspective on the various factors that would impact my ability to succeed.  That said, that same lack of perspective would likely have led me to follow a path in farming that had little chance of ultimately being successful.  Commodity dairy farming, or commodity farming of any kind for that matter is a very tough business.  The economics of commodity businesses dictate that only the very lowest cost producers have a chance of making even a modest living.  Most producers in the "perfect competition" market place either make no money or they lose money in the process.  It is quite likely that my view of the world would have forced me into a commodity market with no real hope of good success.  

                                    

With all that I have learned over the past decades, I would have gone back in time and had a good talk with myself.  I would have told myself several things.  It is foolish to finance yourself into farming from the get go.  You don't have to buy much of anything to get started.  You need to have differentiated products, commodity markets are for suckers.  If you can sell a differentiated product that some people appreciate, you can make money.  You need to carefully consider the direct marketing approach rather than selling into a commodity market or to market aggregators.  If you have direct marketing, you can earn the value of the difference between wholesale and retail.  Always make your product better than others, but do it smartly.  Good enough does not cut it if you want to make money and differentiate yourself.  Don't follow the crowd of commodity producers.  Evaluate what they have to offer, but look elsewhere as well when choosing approaches to production.  Seek the most efficient production options that employ the least amount of capital investment.  When starting a farm, gain experience, then seek to lease property to do your own farming.  Farming is not about owning property, but owning property can be the result successful farming.  The goal is to farm with passion, integrity, and joy, not to own property.  But owning property is cool too.

In retrospect, knowing what I know now and understanding the paradigms I was trapped in, I probably made the right choice.  I do sometimes wish that I could have gone back in time and given myself a good lecture and helped to ease myself out of my confining views of the world.  We are where we are and the experiences I have gained over the years have helped me frame my much more modest goals for the future.  I look forward with great anticipation and hope.

Post Mission Decision Point

Returning from a mission is often a challenging experience for former missionaries.  I wouldn't say my situation was particularly challenging, but I did go through a period where I was trying to find a job and trying to find my way in getting lined up to go back to college, etc.  Perhaps two weeks after I returned from my mission, I got a call from a familiar voice, Paul Durrant.  Paul was Rawl's artificial insemination (AI) technician.  Given that in a herd of 45 cows or so, there was likely one or two cows that came in heat each week, I saw Paul frequently.  He had become a good friend to me when I worked for Rawl.  Paul had a surprising question for me.

Paul told me about someone he knew that was starting a dairy up in the Box Elder Country area.  He was looking for a young, hard-working herdsman to help him get his dairy going.  Paul had heard that I was home from my mission and thought I fit the bill very well.  That is when he gave me a call.  He asked if I wanted a job working at this dairy.  He gave me a brief sketch of the compensation package, which was very compelling to someone without a job and no money at all.  The job was a full-time dairy job, which really meant, probably working 60 hours a week.  If I were to take this job, it would mean no college for me.  It would however, mean immersion in dairy farming, which I loved.  What to do....?  Decision time.

I didn't take very long to make my decision.  My Dad's influence was very powerful.  Probably five years earlier, we had the conversation that went through my mind.  When I was about 16, I had spelled out the idea that I could take an 18 month Dairy Herdsman certification course at Utah State University, then get right out into the work force, doing what I wanted.  My Dad made the argument about the limited range or earnings potential.  My counter argument was that herdsman were often on an incentive program related to production or profitability.  My Dad argued back about the limits of natural systems leading to limits on earning potential.  We went back and forth and back and forth.  Ultimately, my Dad said, "I don't care if you want to be a garbage man.  The reality is that going to college teaches you how to think and how to think critically.  It gives you new and broader perspectives on the world and how you interact with the world.  Going to college helps you to become a more well-rounded and well-grounded person.  You need to go to college."  Well that was the end of that conversation.

After mulling over the five year old conversation with my Dad, I told Paul, "Thanks for thinking of me, I really appreciate it, but I need to get myself back to college."

I have often pondered, briefly pondered, whether or not that was the right decision.  I could have gotten right into farming instead of spending much of my adult life living my farming life vicariously through books, periodicals, the internet, and DVD's.  My answer to that pondering is always the same: I did the right thing.  Because of my choice at that point in time I was able to meet my wife and have my kids and have all of the grand experiences of life that I have had to this point.  Many of those experiences have changed my worldview in many respects.  Among those changes is how I view agriculture and how it fits into the human and otherwise natural world.

It seems quite likely to me that if I had immersed myself in commodity dairy farming at that point in time, I would have adopted a "production at all cost" mentality so often associated with that segment of agriculture.  I may have been blinded to the need for long-term, regenerative, healthy, sustainable agriculture.  Many of my early thoughts about sustainability, self-sufficiency, and self-reliance may have been put on the shelf, maybe to be forgotten.  The time from that time until now has given me a great opportunity to think, learn, challenge myself and the views of others, and learn about a variety of ways to look at farming, farming problems, and farming opportunities.  I have learned much and matured much.

At this particular branch in the road, I chose not to pursue farming with an unknow greater goal in mind.  I felt like I needed college to get me set for life.  My Dad was very influential there.  Ultimately, I think it was the right decision.  That decision opened the doors to so many wonderful things in life.  That decision did not alter my goal, dream, and desire to have a farm and all that goes along with that.