By Lena Beck for Modern Farmer.
Broadcast version by Shanteya Hudson for North Carolina News Service reporting for the Modern Farmer-Public News Service Collaboration.

When Paula and Dale Boles took over Dale's father's farmland in North Carolina, they thought that poultry farming would be a good way to work the land until they were ready to pass it on to their children. They obtained a contract with Case Farms, eventually switching over to Tyson, and built two poultry barns to company specifications, going $300,000 in debt to do so. It seemed like a good situation, though-as long as they could make their annual mortgage payment of $40,000, they'd be able to pay it off within 10 years.

But soon, other expenses started getting tacked on. Tyson required a new computer system to control the temperature in the barns. This was another $70,000. Their propane bill averaged around $25,000 per year. Not making the updates wasn't really an option-no matter how much time and money you invested to be a farmer for the company, they could cut your contract at any time.

And the income wasn't quite what they expected. Companies like Tyson pay their farmers in what's called a tournament system. There's a base pay, but whoever raises the best flock and has the best "feed conversion"-the biggest birds for the least feed- makes the most money, and payment decreases the further you go down the ladder. This essentially pits all the regional farmers against each other.

Challenging company representatives, even on small things, resulted in retribution. Paula Boles says sometimes they'd intentionally bring you a "bad flock," keeping your yields low and locking you into the bottom rung of the tournament system.

"If you complain too much, they just start sending you bad flocks of chickens," she says.

The Boles' situation with Tyson was far from unique. While contract farming, or "factory farming," has been exposed in the media for being exploitative of animals, the farmers who sign contracts with companies like Tyson, Perdue or other big players in animal agriculture also find themselves backed into a financial corner. But, over the last several years, there has been a wave of efforts to find ways to support farmers transitioning out of factory farming. The Boles, who raised their last flock for Tyson about nine years ago, are proof that getting out is possible.

"Now to have come through it, it's been a long process," says Boles. "It hasn't been easy, but we've lived to tell about it, so to speak."

Creating pathways

Tyler Whitley is the director of transfarmation for The Transfarmation Project, an initiative of Mercy for Animals. He has helped work with 12 farms to get them out of the industrial system-a system, he says, that is designed to exploit them.

"The way that the current structure of factory farming is designed is that...the steps that carry with it the most risk and the most debt and the most liability are transitioned to the farmers," he says. "And so what you have is you have farmers building these extremely expensive facilities at the very specific direction [and] design of the company that they're working for. But they don't own the animals."

The Transfarmation Project was founded by Leah Garcés. Whitley says that Garcés realized that ending factory farming would necessitate support systems for the farmers.

"She thought that if we're going to be able to end factory farming, it's not just about creating a different system that runs parallel, like you might see a lot of organizations doing when they talk about agroecology or regenerative farming [and] things of that nature," says Whitley. "But you have to actually create transition paths for farmers to exit out of factory farming."

And these pathways can be difficult to find and establish. Debt is one of the biggest hurdles to transitioning out of contract farming, says Whitley. And it's not simply that the farmers have debt but a specific type of debt that requires lender authorization before farmers can make a change.

Two of the other big challenges relate to the question: If not contract farming, then what? If you're choosing to grow a different crop, a big obstacle is the learning curve-all forms of farming require specialized knowledge that makes changing lanes difficult. The other hurdle is marketing. When you have a contract, you don't need to market your product, because you only have one buyer. This is also part of what makes factory farming inherently risky for the farmer.

"They don't market the animals directly, so they have one customer," says Whitley. "If you're a business that has only one customer, you have a very high amount of risk for your business if you should lose that customer."

Before The Transfarmation Project can help farmers find specific buyers for new crops, it needs to have a pretty good idea of what would feasibly bring in an income for the farmer. For this, it turns to Highland Economics for market analyses. Highland Economics has composed reports on a handful of specialty crops of The Transfarmation Project's choosing, such as hemp, edible flowers, strawberries and microgreens.

The assessments are twofold-it looks at the regional market drivers for a crop, including what types of investments are being made in the sector and important trends-and it also considers what the projected costs and returns of growing that crop are in an indoor setting. Looking at the data that emerges in these analyses, such as consumer demand and the debt service coverage ratio (the ability of a producer to pay their debts with the income they earn) helps farmers decide if a certain crop is right for them.

Travis Greenwalt of Highland Economics also encourages producers to do their own research. "I think this is a great preliminary or a starting point for starting that conversation," says Greenwalt. "But the specific costs and specific returns are going to be all dependent on the location and the producer."

'Steady treadmill of debt'

Garcés started The Transfarmation Project after meeting Craig Watts, a then-poultry farmer for Perdue who let her come to his farm and film inside his chicken barns. This view into what factory farming was really like made national headlines. Watts found himself as a whistleblower after feeling deeply disturbed by the disconnect between how this scale of poultry farming was portrayed versus the reality of the situation. But when he was starting out, his goal was to get back to farming on his family's land, and contracting with Perdue seemed like the way to do it.

"It just sounded like a good deal," says Watts. "You build the houses, they supply the birds, they supply all the technical advice. It's a steady cash income. Supposedly, you could have positive cash flow the first year in business, which was unheard of."

But Perdue exercised control over how Watts farmed. It could move the goalposts as it desired, requesting upgrades to his equipment for which he had to pay.

"They're always coming back to you when you get your houses close to being paid for to make these additions or renovations," says Watts. "There's always this new thing, 'it's gonna save the industry and you have to have it, but we're not going to make you get it but we're not gonna bring you any more birds until you do it.' It's kind of making it mandatory without actually saying 'mandatory.'"

Instead of making good money, Watts found himself on a "steady treadmill of debt."

Additionally, the way that the birds were being treated was misrepresented to the public, which eventually tipped Watts over the edge.

"I guess everybody has their breaking point," says Watts. "And I had mine sitting in a motel room in Brookings, South Dakota."

A commercial had come on the television for the company. As Watts watched the commercial, he saw Jim Perdue driving down the road and then stepping into a chicken barn. Inside the barn were big, beautiful, clean birds, walking around on floors covered in pine shavings.

The reality that Watts had witnessed day in and day out for 20 years was quite different: chickens packed into small spaces, often injured or physically unable to stand or walk, panting due to overheating and sitting on a cake of fecal matter.

"I had a contract with Perdue Farms, but at the end of the day, the customer was my boss," says Watts. "And I just felt like they needed to know."

And that was how he ended up letting Garcés inside his barns to film. The resulting video made national news in 2014.

Now, Watts works with the Socially Responsible Agriculture Project (SRAP), heading up its Contract Grower Transition Program. At the same time, he is learning how to effectively grow mushrooms on his farm in the old poultry barns. Growing mushrooms requires a very different set of skills, and as he learns best practices, he helps other farmers find a place to land.

Most people who come to SRAP are in crisis mitigation mode; they just had their contracts cut, many are strapped with debt and they're trying to figure out how to proceed without losing their land and their livelihoods. Every farm is different, so there is not one uniform approach. But SRAP provides guidance through the financial and legal obstacles.

"We are an air traffic controller, so to speak," he says. "We are looking for that pilot to help them land as soft as possible."

It's not without loss, Watts cautions. Changing the way you farm or remaining in farming after a contract is cut isn't always possible. "People still lose their farms," says Watts. "There's no magic wand here. We flip rocks until we can't flip anymore."

For Watts, the bigger changes have to be systemic.

"We hear about how the food system is broken," says Watts. "The consolidation has given farmers less options to sell to and less options to buy from. But the reality is, the food system is working as it was designed to work. It's working perfectly. What has got to happen is there has to be a major shift in policy."

Ripple effect

The video Garcés made with Watts made waves in the media, but it also resonated deeply with other farmers who were in the same position and had felt completely isolated. In December 2014, the video made its way to Paula and Dale Boles.

That day, the Boles came home from a difficult day at their barns with a bad flock.

"We went back to the house and watched that, and just sat there in tears," says Paula Boles. "Because we knew when we saw that, that we weren't the dumb hillbillies like Tyson had told us that we were. We knew that there was somebody else out there. And everything that [Watts] said in that video was the life that we were living."

They looked at their calendar and decided that May 2015 would be their last flock. Boles wrote a letter to Tyson requesting to terminate their contract, and four weeks later, they received notice that their cancellation had been accepted.

"Even driving to the post office to pick it up, I was a nervous wreck," says Boles.

Farms contracting with Tyson have a sign on their property that says "Tyson" and the name of the farm. About a week after their cancellation was confirmed, someone from Tyson drove out to the farm and picked up their sign.

"We were just standing there, we thought, wow-we invested $400,000, we almost lost everything that we have, and all they had invested in us was a $20 sign."


Lena Beck wrote this article for Modern Farmer.


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By Dawn Attride for Sentient.
Broadcast version by Mark Richardson for Arkansas News Service reporting for the Sentient-Public News Service Collaboration

It's no secret that industrial animal agriculture is draining our planet's resources and is one of the largest sources of greenhouse gas emissions - responsible for somewhere between 12 and nearly 20 percent of climate pollution. On a personal level, reducing meat consumption and adapting to a plant-forward diet are one of the most effective forms of climate action. When it comes to more systemic solutions however, lawmakers and development banks have favored interventions that tend to be tech-based, or human manufactured. These solutions, like dairy digesters that convert manure into biogas, or synthetic feed additives that reduce methane emissions from livestock, also tend to be hotly contested by a certain swath of environmentalists.

While such technologies promise to curb emissions, the reality is not so simple - and they also may do little to combat agriculture's stress on water, soils and biodiversity. These strategies often don't address issues like soil health or the deforestation of land - at least not directly.

A new report makes the case that the best way forward may lie in investing in nature-based solutions, rather than technological ones. The findings were published by The Farm Animal Investment Risk and Return Initiative (FAIRR), an investor network covering risks and opportunities in the global food system.

Investing in Nature Take Time, but Benefits Ecosystems

A nature-based solution uses natural techniques and ecosystems to address environmental challenges, such as planting trees or restoring wetlands to capture carbon.

The new FAIRR report is the "first of its kind" in developing a framework to attract investment for long-term climate solutions in a way that considers the whole planet holistically, Sajeev Mohankumar, senior technical specialist of climate and biodiversity at FAIRR, tells Sentient.

"Industrial farming produces more calories and produces more product per unit area because they are so efficient and their only goal is to maximize profit. But what we wanted to emphasize in this report is that that is not the only system of agriculture -- it also has to deliver for the animals in terms of welfare, human health and planetary health. That's where nature-based solutions come into play," he says.

FAIRR evaluated 22 on-farm interventions (12 nature-based, 10 tech-based) often cited to address agriculture's climate and nature risks. They found that nature-based solutions such as hedgerows (rows of shrubs that act as a carbon sink and reduce soil erosion) and silvopasture (integrating trees into grazing pastures) had a greater positive impact collectively on emissions reductions, biodiversity, freshwater use and the flow of nutrients across ecosystems. "Nature-based interventions can deliver 37 percent of the mitigation required to meet 2030 climate targets, along with significant nature co-benefits," the report states.

Nature-based solutions are touted as offering more holistic rewards, but can take time to show impact, which can be difficult to sell to investors. "I think there is a lack of knowledge in terms of connecting some of the financial returns to environmental outcomes," Mohankumar says. "This involves changing the behavior of farmers and tying them into a long-term contract...it takes a long time to yield benefits."

For example, technology like synthetic animal feed additives reduce methane emissions from livestock by roughly 10-30 percent, but offer few co-benefits for nature. Hedgerows, by comparison, reduce emissions but also have positive environmental benefits, such as reducing soil erosion and curbing nutrient runoff into water. On the other hand, hedgerows need to be planted in large quantities, and require a long timescale of up to 10 years to sequester significant amounts of carbon.

A Ticking Climate Clock Requires Thoughtful Solutions

Nature-based solutions have another added benefit: they tend to boost climate resilience, often in a more cost-effective way, according to a recent review of over 100 peer-reviewed articles. Sixty-five percent of studies found that nature-based solutions were better at reducing disaster risk, and 71 percent of studies found that they were more cost-effective than tech-based ones.

Currently, the majority of on-farm intervention investment flows toward technological advances, which, FAIRR says is "concerning." This is because tech-based climate interventions "are more likely to be aligned with intensive livestock production practices, and lead only to incremental emissions reductions relative to the long-term systemic changes from implementing nature-based interventions." In other words, these solutions cut down on emissions a little, without addressing the problems caused by industrial food systems, like poor animal welfare or water pollution.

Not every climate researcher sees a clear preference for technology or nature-based solutions. Sentient asked Richard Waite, director for Agriculture Initiatives, Food, Land and Water Program at the World Resources Institute (WRI), to take a look at FAIRR's research, with which he was not involved. Waite was a co-author of a 2019 report from WRI that recommended a suite of solutions to meet the challenge of feeding even more people on the planet - 9.7 billion by 2050 - without draining natural resources and driving up global temperatures to an unhealthy degree.

"This report looks at many interventions that are commonly cited when talking about reducing agriculture's impacts on climate and nature. It recommends more investment in nature-based solutions, while also noting that such interventions may lower food production," Waite tells Sentient.

"In our world of increasing food demand linked to agricultural expansion and deforestation," says Waite, "we must be very careful to assess any tradeoffs related to shifting to agricultural systems or practices that produce less food and require more land."

When it comes to food systems, tradeoffs can have significant consequences. For instance, shifting a factory farm to a regenerative beef operation could mean more space for farm animals to roam. That sounds like a better scenario for farm animals. But research has also shown that regenerative cattle ranches use twice as much land to produce the same amount of food. If Americans and other Global North populations were to continue to eat meat at even close to the same levels they do now, there is simply not enough farmland to shift all industrial farms to regenerative operations. And trying to make that shift would undoubtedly result in more emissions and more deforestation.

For Waite and WRI, a mix of solutions is key. "Our own research suggests that both tech-based and nature-based solutions will be essential to feeding 10 billion people by 2050, while protecting nature and the climate."

The Bottom Line

Fierce debates over climate solutions seem to be going strong, yet global temperatures - and food system emissions - continue to be heading in the wrong direction. If countries are serious about meeting their climate goals, they will likely need to consider comprehensive solutions that account for impacts to both climate and nature.


Dawn Attride wrote this article for Sentient.


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A recent poll by the National Wildlife Federation showed Texas farmers and ranchers benefit from voluntary conservation programs from the U.S. Department of Agriculture and many would like to see the programs expand.

Respondents said the funding helps improve their bottom line and protect soil and water.

Aviva Glaser, senior director of agriculture policy for the federation, said Texas producers use the programs in various ways.

"Prescribed grazing and brush management and range planting were very popular practices," Glaser pointed out. "There's been the Working Lands for Wildlife program that has helped with the Monarch butterfly decline through voluntary measures the farmers (and) ranchers are doing with the help of this funding."

She noted only 5% of the more than 500 farmers and ranchers polled disagree with increasing long-term funding from the USDA.

Almost 70% of producers said designating funds specifically to help farmers adopt climate smart agriculture practices is a good use of federal money.

Glaser pointed out the wildlife federation has created a mapping tool which shows how much federal funding each state has received and outlines how farmers and ranchers are using it.

"That could be a range of different practices," Glaser observed. "Practices like cover crops or grazing management or it could be a conservation easement. It could be putting in a buffer strip."

More than eight in 10 producers support passage of a new Farm Bill. The legislation is supposed to be renewed every five years but the last version was passed in 2018.

By Seth Millstein for Sentient.
Broadcast version by Kathleen Shannon for Wyoming News Service reporting for the Sentient-Public News Service Collaboration

From slogans like “Where’s the beef?” to cheeseburgers on the Fourth of July, beef has long played an outsized role in American culture. Yet a growing body of evidence has found that beef is driving climate pollution and environmental destruction, and America eats more of it than anyone. Leading research institutions have advised Americans to decrease their beef consumption — but is beef consumption in the U.S. actually headed in the right direction?

“It’s pretty much universal across the peer reviewed scientific literature that we urgently need to curb agricultural greenhouse gas emissions to avoid the most catastrophic climate change scenarios,” Brent Kim, faculty scientist at the Center for a Livable Future at Johns Hopkins University, tells Sentient. “One of the biggest and fastest ways we can achieve that is by cutting back on the amount of beef and milk that is produced.”

A Brief History of Beef Consumption in the U.S.

Cows aren’t native to the Americas, so beef wasn’t consumed in North America prior to colonization. This changed with the arrival of Europeans, who imported cows to the New World. American farmers and soldiers cleared land to make way for large beef ranches, displacing and killing Indigenous people and native bison in the process.

Over time, European immigrants came to the newly formed United States in increasing numbers, bringing with them a preference for meat when they could afford it. American farming and supply chains developed over time to meet that demand, and now, large swaths of land in the U.S. are dedicated to cattle ranching and industrial feedlots.

Why We Need to Eat Less Beef

Researchers at the UN’s Food and Agricultural Organization have urged people in high-income countries to eat less beef, and there’s a good reason for that: it’s a major contributor to climate change.

Cows emit massive amounts of methane, one of the “big three” greenhouse gasses, through their burps and manure. In fact, nearly a third of all greenhouse gas emissions come from food production — and most of that is from cows.

Beef consumption in the U.S. also helps drive beef production, both here in and in countries that are clearing forests and other wild landscapes to meet this demand. Beef is the leading driver of deforestation worldwide, which releases enormous amounts of carbon dioxide, and is thus a major source of global warming. The mass removal of forested land also destroys the natural habitats that countless creatures rely on; it’s estimated that 135 species of plant, animal and insect go extinct every day due to deforestation around the world.

What Will Happen If We Don’t Eat Less Meat

Continuing to eat beef at this scale will have long term consequences. Kim points to a comprehensive 2023 study that found that food consumption alone could increase global temperatures by 1 degree Celsius by 2100, and that 75 percent of this increase would be attributable to foods that are significant sources of methane, like beef. Life will continue with that degree of warming, but it will be far less comfortable in some places and downright miserable in others.

How Much Beef Do Americans Eat?

When it comes to beef consumption in the U.S., there’s good news and bad news.

The good news is that Americans eat a lot less beef now than 50 years ago. That’s largely because Americans shifted to chicken in that time period, which became incredibly cheap at the expense of welfare for farmed birds. But back to beef.

In 1974, per-capita beef consumption in the U.S. was around 117 pounds; this began to decrease in the mid-1980s, however, and since 2008, Americans have been eating less than 90 pounds of beef every year on a per-capita basis. That’s a significant reduction.

The bad news is that America still eats more beef than any other country in the world — around 13.82 million tons every year, according to UN data. Even China, which has more than four times as many people as the U.S., consumes less total beef every year.

America also produces more beef than any other country in the world, with Brazil in a close second.

As we’ll see in a moment, a small subset of countries consume a disproportionate amount of the world’s beef, and this dynamic holds true in America itself as well: A 2023 study found that just 12 percent of Americans consume over half of all beef in the country.

How Does Beef Consumption in the U.S. Compare to the Rest of the World?

Behind the U.S., the country that eats the most beef is China, which consumed around 12.35 million tons in 2022. 

Just two nations, the U.S. and China, eat a little less than half of all beef that’s produced globally — but China has over 1.4 billion people, while the U.S. has 340 million, and still eats more beef.

The Problem of Rising Beef Consumption in China

China’s beef consumption is still concerning, especially when looking at long-term trends. Whereas per-capita beef consumption in the U.S. has fallen over the decades, it has skyrocketed in China, leaping from just under half a pound in 1972 to over 17 pounds in 2022. Importantly, this growth hasn’t been due to some one-off event that caused a sudden spike in beef consumption; rather, it’s been continuous and steady over time, and analysts expect it to keep rising.

And that’s a big problem. Sure, the average person in China still eats much less beef per year than the average American — but because China’s population is so much bigger, even a modest increase in beef consumption will have a huge effect on overall beef production.

For instance, suppose China’s beef consumption rose from 17 pounds to 30 pounds per-capita. The country would still be eating only around half as much beef as America on a per-person basis, but because its population is so large, this modest rise in personal consumption would cause total beef consumption in the country to reach 21 million tons — almost twice that of the U.S.

Meat Consumption in Argentina

Something worth noting is that although the United States consumes more beef in total than any other country, Argentina eats the most beef on a per-capita basis. The fact that Argentina has around one-seventh the population of the U.S. makes this less of a problem in global terms, though, and highlights the fact that if we truly want to bring beef consumption down to sustainable levels, the onus is really on the countries that consume the most beef on a total basis — that is, the U.S., China and Brazil.

To illustrate this, let’s look a bit closer at Argentina and the United States. In 2022, Argentina consumed a little over 2 million tons of beef in total and 101 pounds per capita, while Americans ate 12.9 million tons of total beef and 83 pounds per capita. This means that the average Argentinian was eating more beef every year than the average American.

But because Argentina’s population is so much smaller, the country has much less of an opportunity to make a global impact by changing its consumption habits. If the average Argentinian cut their beef consumption in half, this would reduce global beef consumption by around one million tons per year. But if the average American reduced their beef consumption by just 20 percent, this would bring down global beef consumption by over 2.5 million every year — a much larger impact requiring a much smaller change.

The Bottom Line

It’s clear that the United States needs to reduce its beef consumption. But the burdens aren’t exactly equal. “When we’re talking about reductions in animal product intake, it’s not a universal prescription for all countries,” Kim says. “There are low- and middle-income countries that have high rates of malnourishment and stunting, and something as small as increasing their animal product intake by one egg a day could play a dramatic role in preventing many of the lifelong impacts of stunting.”

At the end of the day, almost half of all beef is consumed in America or China. If we want to bring down beef consumption in a meaningful way, these are the first places that need to start finding alternative sources of protein.


Seth Millstein wrote this article for Sentient.


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