An Overflowing Trough ... and Accompanying Disincentives to Land Stewardship
Every five years or so, Congress promises a new, improved farm bill that will end unnecessary subsidies to big farmers, enhance the environment and actually do something to help farmers and small towns. But what it usually does is find ways of disguising the old inequities, sending taxpayer dollars to wealthy farmers, accelerating the expansion of industrial farming, inflating land prices and further depopulating rural America.
Enriched by high prices (at least for now), cosseted by inexpensive insurance, relieved of their environmental obligations, farmers could well be inclined to start planting from fence line to fence line. That would be a severe blow to the American landscape.
What I do know is that [Athey] used his land conservatively. In any year, by far the greatest part of his land would be under grass--for, as he would say, "The land slopes even in the bottoms, and the water runs." He was always studying his fields, thinking of ways to protect them. He was doing what a lot of farmers say they want to do: he was improving his land; he was going to leave it better than he found it. I know too that his principle was always to maintain a generous surplus between his livestock and the available feed, just as between the fertility of his land and his demands upon it. "Wherever I look," he said, "I want to see more than I need, and have more than I use." And this is a principle very different from what would be the principle of his son-in-law, often voiced in his heyday: "Never let a quarter's worth of equity stand idle. Use it or borrow against it."
Athey said, "Wherever I look, I want to see more than I need." Troy said, in effect, "Whatever I see, I want." What he asked of the land was all it had. He had hardly got his first crop in the ground when he began to say things critical of Athey and his ways. "Why, hell!" he would say, "it's hard to tell what that old place would produce if he would just plow it." Or: "Why the hell would a man plow just forty acres of a farm when he could plow all of it?" He would say these things leaning back in his chair, his ankle crossed over his knee, his foot twitching. He was speaking as a young man of the modern age coming now into his hour, held back only by the outmoded way of his elders.
Athey was not exactly, or not only, what is called a "landowner." He was the farm's farmer, but also its creature and belonging. He lived its life, and it lived his; he knew that, of the two lives, his was meant to be the smaller and shorter.
The photo above is of a farm in Witts Springs (Searcy County), Arkansas, May, 2012. I offer it up as an example of place that will probably get very little benefit from the farm bill. Searcy County is a persistent poverty county, and Witts Springs is not even a Census Designated Place. The community appears mostly reliant on an agricultural economy, principally cattle. The community sits on a ridge in the Boston/Ozark Mountains, about 16 miles from the county seat, and is the sort of place that would benefit from rural development funds. The U.S. Post Office at Witts Springs was until recently on the chopping block (read more here and here), and its K-12 school closed several years ago. I would be very surprised if any farmers in Witts Springs are receiving USDA money, in part because of the size of farms, in part because of what is produced (livestock, not crops). Another photo from Witts Springs is featured in this post.
Labels: animals, crop insurance, environment, farm bill, federal, rural development, the south