Let me tell you something about farming
I’ve been around the block a time or two. Started out on a farm in rural Iowa back in ’98. My uncle Joe—God rest his soul—taught me the ropes. Or at least, what he thought were the ropes. Looking back, we were all kinda flying blind.
Fast forward 20-odd years, and I’m sitting here in my office, staring at a stack of reports about sustainable farming. And honestly? It’s a mess. A beautiful, hopeful, frustrating mess.
Why can’t we get it right?
I mean, look, I get it. Sustainability isn’t a one-size-fits-all thing. You’ve got your industrial farms out in California, your small-scale organic operations in Vermont, and everything in between. But here’s the thing—we’re all trying to solve the same problem, right? How do we feed the world without destroying it?
And yet, we’re all over the place. Literally. I was at a conference in Austin last year, and let’s call him Marcus, this big-shot agri-tech guy, stands up and says, “The future is vertical farming. It’s the only way to go.” And I’m sitting there thinking, “Marcus, have you ever tried to grow a damn tomato upside down?”
Which… yeah. Fair enough. Maybe vertical farming works for some crops. But it’s not the be-all and end-all. And that’s the problem. We’re so busy chasing the next big thing that we forget to look at what’s working right in front of us.
Let’s talk about soil
About three months ago, I was out in the field with a colleague named Dave. We’re walking through a plot of land that’s been farmed the same way for generations. And Dave, he’s got this look on his face, you know? Like he’s just put two and two together.
“You see this, Sarah?” he says. “The soil here, it’s alive. It’s not just dirt. It’s teeming with life.” And I’m like, “Yeah, Dave, I see it. But what’s your point?”
And he looks at me, all serious-like, and says, “We’ve been treating soil like it’s a commodity. Something to be used up and replaced. But it’s not. It’s a living, breathing ecosystem.”
And I’m standing there, right? Feeling like an idiot because it’s so obvious, isn’t it? We’ve been so focused on yields and profits that we’ve forgotten about the very thing that makes farming possible: the soil.
So, what’s the answer? I’m not sure but maybe we need to start treating soil like the precious resource it is. Maybe we need to invest in soil health as much as we invest in the latest farming technology.
Water: the elephant in the room
Speaking of things we’re ignoring, let’s talk about water. Or rather, the lack thereof. I was out in Nevada last summer, and it was like, 110 degrees every day. And I’m talking to this rancher, let’s call him Tom, and he’s telling me about how the water table’s dropping like a stone.
“We’re pumping it out faster than it can replenish,” he says. “And it’s not just us. It’s everyone. The cities, the farms, the golf courses. We’re all sucking the life out of the land.”
And I’m sitting there, feeling this pit in my stomach because he’s right. We’re all guilty of it. And it’s not just Nevada. It’s happening all over the country. All over the world, honestly.
So, what do we do? I don’t know. But I do know this—we can’t keep going the way we are. We need to find a better way to manage our water resources. And we need to do it fast.
A quick tangent: urban farming
Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Sarah, you’re all over the place. First it’s soil, then it’s water, now it’s urban farming?” Look, I’m a human. I get distracted. Deal with it.
But seriously, urban farming is a thing. And it’s a big thing. I was reading this Las Vegas community news update the other day, and there’s this guy in Vegas who’s turned his backyard into a full-on farm. And he’s not alone. There are people all over the country doing the same thing.
And you know what? It’s awesome. It’s not gonna solve all our problems, but it’s a start. It’s a way for people to connect with their food, to understand where it comes from. And that’s a good thing.
Let’s get real about tech
Now, I know I’ve been kinda hard on technology so far. But look, I’m not anti-tech. Far from it. I love a good gadget as much as the next person. But here’s the thing—tech is only as good as the people using it.
I was talking to a friend of mine, let’s call her Lisa, the other day. She’s a farmer out in Kansas, and she’s been using this new app to monitor her crops. And she’s loving it. “It’s like having a second set of eyes,” she says. “I can see what’s going on in my fields 24/7.”
And that’s great. Really. But here’s the thing—it’s not a magic bullet. It’s a tool. And like any tool, it’s only as good as the person using it. So, let’s not get carried away. Let’s use tech to supplement our farming practices, not replace them.
Where do we go from here?
I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t. But I do know this—we need to start talking. We need to share our successes and our failures. We need to learn from each other.
And maybe, just maybe, we need to slow down. Stop chasing the next big thing and start focusing on what’s working right now. Because at the end of the day, that’s what’s gonna make a difference.
Anyway, that’s enough from me. I’m gonna go have a cup of coffee and think about all this. Maybe I’ll come up with some answers. Or maybe I’ll just enjoy the silence. Who knows?
About the Author: Sarah Johnson has been a senior magazine editor for over 20 years, with a focus on agriculture and rural topics. She currently lives in Iowa, where she continues to write about the things that matter most to her—farming, food, and the people who produce it.
