But in today’s market, a farmer producing niche vegetables on a few acres may have a higher net income than a beef or dairy producer on a few hundred. A skillful farmer can produce a bounty of vegetables on five or ten acres; one young farmer we met recently supports a 75-member community supported agriculture program on three acres.[1] As beef and dairy farms go out of business and are replaced with one or two houses per acre, their loss ripples across the landscape. The irony that residential developments are often named for the farms they have replaced becomes ever more poignant. 

Slaughterhouses are but one part of the agricultural infrastructure that has been fraying and disappearing since World War II, as national and global interests have come to dominate the agri-food business and infrastructure has shifted in response. Loss of infrastructure has made small and mid-size farmers less efficient and increased their costs. As the market value of their land rises in response to development pressure, selling becomes an ever more attractive option.

Some farmers are eager to sell; they have long considered the land their only retirement fund. Many others, however, would prefer to stay on the land, but they must be able to make a living and support their families. A third-generation dairy farmer, whose operation uses more than 300 acres of land for pasturing cows and producing feed, told us that “Every day, people come up my driveway and offer me more money than I have ever dreamed of—even though my farm is not for sale. I don’t want to go out of dairy but I can’t afford braces for my kids. What am I supposed to do?”  

If we want to contain sprawl and protect key cultural landscapes, we have to find ways to help this farmer and others remain economically viable. The task is doubly hard because current agricultural policy—and global trade policy—is often oriented toward encouraging and supporting large commodity growers rather than the small and mid-size farmers that predominate in regions like the Hudson Valley. 

But there are things that can be done at the regional and community level—and actions that can be taken by individual consumers—that can make a critical difference in encouraging farmers to stay on their land. The experience of Glynwood Center, in New York’s Hudson River Valley, provides insights and approaches that may be translated for use in other regions.

Glynwood Center, a nonprofit organization, helps communities conserve their cultural and natural resources while achieving economic well-being.  In recent years a major focus of our work has been our Agricultural Initiative through which we encourage farmers to stay on their land and share what we learn with people facing similar challenges in other regions.  Our agricultural work grew out of our decade of experience with community-based efforts, including the Countryside Exchange program through which we helped more than 100 communities in the United States and abroad gain new perspective and catalyze a new course of action.  Nearly 1,000 professionals, including many historic preservationists, from a dozen countries contributed their services as team members. 

Glynwood Center also operates its own farm.  We are establishing a multi-species rotational grazing using the Black Angus that have traditionally been on the land along with heritage breeds.  By encouraging the continued production of heritage breeds, we can help protect the genetic diversity that is part of our agricultural heritage.

Helping Communities Understand How Their Actions Affect Farmers

The officials who control land use and other regulatory and tax policy at the local level frequently aren’t aware of the effect their actions have on farmers. They often assume that farm viability is determined by national policy or economic forces that are beyond their influence. 

But there are many ways in which local policy affects farm viability. In New York and many other states, critical land use decisions are made at the municipal level. Other states delegate authority to the county government. In either case, these local leaders play a key role in determining what happens on the land, including farmland. Many local policies and regulations undermine a farmer’s ability to succeed, such as those that make it difficult to diversify or to engage in direct marketing or that make it prohibitively expensive to obtain permits for constructing or changing buildings.    

Let us consider one common example of the problem: Zoning too often both reflects and creates a mindset that farming is a “transitional use.”  In most communities, agriculture is not a separate zoning category, it is an “as of right” use in a residential zone, which often means that you can build one house on every acre of land.  This land-use policy both reflects and creates a mental framework in which agriculture is seen as part of a transitional landscape. There is an assumption that all farmland will one day be developed for residential or commercial purposes, which are assumed to be its “highest and best use.”  Even farmers may come to value their land for the number of “buildable lots” allowed by the zoning rather than its productive capacity. 

Too often, value for future development, rather than value for current agricultural use, also determines real property taxes. One assessor in our region recently placed a higher assessed value on the portion of a cornfield with a higher elevation, despite the farmer’s protest that the corn didn’t care about the better view.  The higher taxes will make it even more difficult for the farmer to remain on the land.

At the same time, there are many local regulatory approaches and real property tax programs that can affirmatively encourage farmers to remain on their land. While farmers are quick to note the discouraging impact of high real property and school taxes, many also cite lack of understanding and “harassment” by their neighbors as the element that is most likely to make them decide to stop farming. 

Although many developers like to locate their residential developments next to “scenic” small and mid-size farms, the new residents often have no knowledge of farming. They are frustrated when their drive to town is delayed by a slow moving farm vehicle, or the smell of their barbeque is spiced with that of the manure being spread on a nearby field.  Some communities in the Hudson Valley, such as Goshen, now require that when a subdivision is created near an active farm, each deed must contain a notice that the nearby farming operation will generate normal noise and smells. This helps create a more realistic expectation on the part of the buyer, and if local officials do receive a call from a new homeowner demanding that action be taken against the farmer, they can point to this notice and refuse. While this may sound like a small action to take, farmers often cite a municipality’s commitment to support farming as being critical to their own determination to stay on their land.[2]