Lately, the general consensus from the average American farmer is one engulfed with pessimism, fear, and uncertainty. Easy to say that may be the general attitude of the entire country or planet at this moment. But it’s a little more significant in the farming industry since we are the food chain.
I’ve spoken with several farmers lately, who’ve been at it for 30 years or more. Nobody is certain what to do really right now. With commodities still in the toilet, it doesn’t make sense for us to do as we’ve always done. Particularly now when most seed companies dealing with commodity crops in the food industry have yet to set an estimated price for the upcoming planting season. So, we have no idea really what our best options are at this point.
With trillion dollar bailouts being handed out like candy canes at a Christmas Day parade, in the back of our minds we are fearing the day of subsidies are soon over. If that happens, most farmers are gone. At the very least, we’ll dramatically reduce the size of our farms. Our welfare is a necessity to stay afloat. Most Americans and even those from other countries don’t understand that. With input costs rising higher each year and commodity markets about as stable as Al Davis and Jerry Jones’ personnel decisions, there is less and less wiggle room on the family farm.
For instance, a used John Deere 8410 tractor with 5,000 hours sells for in the $90,000 range. (This is the equivalent of buying a 2002 pickup with 120,000 miles on it.) You can’t find a basic package 150+ hp new tractor for under $120,000. In the cotton world at today’s market prices, it would take roughly 200 acres of cotton at one bale/acre to make $20,000 annual payments on that tractor. Gulp! Factor in one or two insurance years in a row due to drought or other acts of Nature, and it can get uncomfortable real quick.
Factor in $90,000 used cotton strippers or $160,000 brand new strippers. Factor in land payments and our beloved double taxations since we are self-employed, and we find ourselves in the red real fast. It doesn’t add up. If a farmer owns all his own equipment and it is fairly modern, we’re looking at about 400-800 acres on a lot of years just to make those payments, depending on age of equipment and size of the operation. This does not include salaries, employee wages and bonuses, fuel, pickups, insurance, seed costs, herbicides, pesticides, etc.
So what are the answers? Excellent question. We’ve been asking ourselves that for half a century. During the Agriculture Movement in the late 1970s, farmers didn’t realize they were already standing at the summit of agriculture. It’s been downhill ever since. And the slope has gotten a hell of a lot more slippery this past year with commodities mysteriously imploding like Tower 7 on 9/11.
Hard to imagine an all-out fire sell of modern machinery in the near future. But how many farmers are braced for the kind of free-fall we’re in right now? I’m already hearing stories of some maxed out at their banks, too far in the hole to start all over again. And after a man has worked for himself for 25-40 years, it’s damn near impossible to go to work for someone else until you have to.
It’s no newsflash to farmers we’re going to have to hitch up our belts another notch, grit our teeth down to the nubs, roll up our sleeves, and plunge ahead into the great unknown. We’ve done it for four or five generations. But now, we have to keep a constant watch not only on the horizon and clouds overhead but keep a constant finger on the pulse of global markets, national banking, our selves, our government, and all we hold dear.
Food prices at the grocery store could skyrocket as early as this summer due to massive droughts and crop disease affecting China’s wheat crop. Then people will get extremely pissed off. There is no more dangerous animal than one that is hungry and feels trapped. Our species is no exception. In fact, we’re much more dangerous.
What we need more than anything right now is rain. A good, slow, long rain always has a way of lifting spirits and clearing the fog in our minds. Rain doesn’t erase all the horror in the world, but it sure makes the pain much more bearable. The entire southern U.S. is suffering a massive drought right now. As is China and Australia. Let’s focus our minds on drops of rain soaking our fields. Squiggey that third eye, and smell it ridin’ in on a wild blue northern. It’s a coming. Screw all the rest. Just give us rain.