By Dawn Attride for Sentient.
Broadcast version by Mike Moen for Greater Dakota News Service reporting for the Sentient-Public News Service Collaboration

At the supermarket, you're often met with a choice: organic or not? Organic foods - largely free of synthetic pesticides, hormones and antibiotics - are synonymous with sustainability in the minds of many shoppers. But sustainability is a fraught and complex measure - does it mean better for you or for the planet? And how do farm animals, farmers and workers fare? About the only measure that's simple here is the nutrition, which remains the same whether you buy organic or conventional foods. After that, however, the tradeoffs quickly become complicated.

When it comes to the environment, organic food isn't necessarily better and can even be worse, in part because it requires more land to raise animals and grow their feed. In other words, that additional land means farm animals get a little more living space under U.S. organic rules. But unfortunately, unless we cut back on how much meat we eat, farming with even more land comes at a steep climate cost (and we're already way over budget).

After reviewing publicly available data and the scientific literature on the impacts of organic versus conventionally farmed meat, Sentient breaks down the tradeoffs.

Organic: Not As Environmentally Friendly As It Sounds

A 2017 review of hundreds of studies compared the environmental impacts of organic foods with their conventionally produced counterparts. The researchers looked at life cycle assessments to account for all the inputs, outputs and environmental effects of a food system. According to the findings, organic meat requires slightly lower energy on average than conventional meat - things like machinery and fertilizer production - but is less environmentally friendly in terms of nutrient runoff and higher land use.

Organic livestock standards require that farm animals be allotted more land than intensive agriculture operations, such as factory farming. Across all animal products (including milk and eggs), organic requires around 75 percent more land based on our analysis of the 2017 paper.

What we do with land has serious opportunities or consequences for climate change. For example, peatlands can suck in huge amounts of carbon by sequestration, and trees can also capture and store carbon. But if we were to expand how much of our food was sourced from organic farms, we would have to clear more land. When we clear land for farming, it loses its capacity to store carbon for as long as it stays a farm (essentially until it is rewilded), which is very bad for the planet.

As it stands, over a third of land globally is used for agriculture, resulting in deforestation in places like the Amazon rainforest. If we keep eating meat at the rate we do now, and the population keeps on growing, which is what the United Nations expects to happen, we will drive up greenhouse gas emissions even further, making the planet a more challenging place to live.

More Land Is Better for Animals, Not So Good for Climate

When we dig into the details, "better" depends on what you measure and how. A different review focusing on Western European farming found that organic animal foods have lower carbon emissions per hectare than producing those foods conventionally. But here's where things get tricky: this was mainly due to land management practices used in organic farming, which the authors argued would increase the carbon sequestration of the system.

The argument for this kind of farming - sometimes called regenerative or climate-smart - doesn't track with the many studies showing these carbon farming practices tend to only add carbon to soils for a short period of time and then release it back into the atmosphere, which is not what you need for climate mitigation. In any event, when the researchers measured emissions by weight of meat produced, organic animal foods emitted more greenhouse gases per pound.

While organic foods' inefficiency can contribute to higher emissions, it can be better in terms of welfare for farm animals. More land means more room for animals to graze than what they experience in factory farms. Raising more animals in the most confined spaces translates to lower emissions, while the higher-emissions organic livestock farms can offer animals better living conditions. This is the crux of the tradeoff between organic and conventional meat.

Demand for Organic Food Is Growing - But It's Not Scalable

In the United States, demand for organic food is surging, despite only a tiny fraction of farmland being used for organic food production. Between 2023 and 2024, organic meat sales increased 14.3 percent in dollar terms to hit $3.1 billion. Although typically more expensive, the label is in high demand, particularly among younger generations. A recent survey by the Organic Trade Association found that two-thirds of young consumers look for the label in nearly every food purchase.

Keeping up with this demand means using more land. What would happen if animal farming went entirely organic - and humans ate the same amount of meat, eggs and dairy, but using roughly 75 percent more land? The land area needed for farm animals would increase from 36 percent to 63 percent of the world's habitable area. Under current global warming estimates, this expansion likely wouldn't be sustainable given the dire need for carbon-cutting solutions which involves avoiding deforestation and preserving land.

The Bottom Line

Based on the way we eat now, organic livestock farming is not scalable to feed the projected 9.7 billion people who will be living on the planet by 2050. While organic production gives animals more space, that higher land usage isn't so good for climate change. But there are alternatives. Proteins like beans - whether organic or conventional - could substitute the growing protein demand while remaining low on emissions and avoiding typical animal welfare concerns.


Dawn Attride wrote this article for Sentient.


get more stories like this via email

With more than 95,000 farms, Missouri ranks among the top farming states in the nation. Now, a national agriculture group is warning that bills moving through Congress could hurt rural communities.
According to the National Sustainable Agriculture Coalition, the Senate's reconciliation bill, sometimes called "The Big Beautiful Bill Act," would deepen hunger and hinder small farmers. At the same time, the group contends the House's 2026 spending plan slashes funding for conservation, research and local food programs.

Mike Lavender, the coalition's policy director, said the consequences of these cuts will be felt directly by those working the land.

"These cuts, even to relatively small programs, are going to mean that fewer farmers have access to resources and information that help them have a successful livelihood, help their business work and help them be successful in providing for their family," he said.

Supporters have said the bills promote responsible budgeting by cutting spending and boosting efficiency. The Senate's agriculture bill awaits full debate, while the House's 2026 funding bill has cleared committee.

Nearly 90% of Missouri's farms are family-owned. Lavender said his organization has been working closely with members of the Senate and the Appropriations Committee to make sure they understand the importance of these programs for farmers across the country.

"Don't do what the House did. Don't undercut farmers, don't undercut rural communities by reducing funding for these programs," he said, "but rather they deliver funding for these programs based on demand, and we know there's a high demand and a high need for these programs across the country."

Lavender added that the 2026 spending bill has "one bright spot" in its support for direct purchases from local producers, but he said that's overshadowed by cuts that hurt those very farmers.


get more stories like this via email

By Seth Millstein for Sentient.
Broadcast version by Chrystal Blair for Missouri News Service reporting for the Sentient-Public News Service Collaboration

An estimated 99 percent of farm animals in the U.S. live in what the government calls Concentrated Animal Feeding Operations, or CAFOs. But what exactly makes something a CAFO, and are they the same as factory farms? Generally speaking, CAFOs are large industrial facilities where hundreds, thousands or hundreds of thousands of farmed animals are densely packed in sheds or feed yards. They're an example of what's also called intensive farming, in which the goal is to produce the maximum amount of product using the least amount of physical space.maximum amount of product using the least amount of physical space.

"They work like an industry," John Ikerd, professor emeritus of agricultural economics at the University of Missouri, tells Sentient. "The basic characteristics of an industrial operation is to specialize. You specialize in just doing one thing, so you can do it more effectively. And once you specialize, then you can routinize the process. And once you routinize, you can mechanize, and once you mechanize, then you simplify the whole production process, so that you can consolidate into larger and larger operations."

The argument for farming more like an industrialized factory came from agriculture researchers in the mid-20th century, according to agricultural economist Jayson Lusk, and it wasn't seen as a bad thing. Getting bigger was a way for farms to become more efficient and, therefore, more economically sustainable. Unfortunately, that efficiency comes with a multitude of tradeoffs, for animals, workers and the environment.

What Is a CAFO?

The term "CAFO" was created by the U.S. government in the 1970s as part of a federal effort to reduce water pollution. It began in 1972, when Congress passed the Clean Water Act. This law authorized the EPA to regulate point source pollution, or water pollution that comes from a single identifiable source; while the law didn't include the acronym "CAFO," it did mention "concentrated animal feeding operations" as an example of point source pollution.

Ikerd says the amount of water pollution a farm emits is directly tied to how densely concentrated the animals on the farm are.

"If you have the animals dispersed out across the land, as they were before we had CAFOs, then you're not concentrating the waste in one place," Ikerd says. "When you concentrate the animals, then you concentrate the manure, and the urine and all the waste from the animals."

In 1974, the EPA formalized and expanded upon this designation, issuing a rule that defined CAFOs as a subset of AFOs, or (non-concentrated) animal feeding operations.

The difference between an AFO and a CAFO is important, as CAFOs are subject to more stringent regulations.

AFOs vs. CAFOs

The size designation of any given AFO depends on a number of factors, the primary one being the number of animals in the facility and the species of animal in question. For instance, a dairy AFO is considered large (and therefore a CAFO) if it has over 700 dairy cows; a turkey AFO, meanwhile, needs 55,000 or more turkeys to qualify as a CAFO.

There are a few other factors that determine whether a facility qualifies as a CAFO. With pig farms, the weight of the animal is taken into consideration. On chicken farms, the size designation depends on whether the birds are being farmed for meat or eggs.

Manure Processing

There's another important factor in determining whether or not a farm qualifies as a CAFO, and that's the manner in which it processes and stores manure. This is because manure storage plays a big role in determining how much water pollution a CAFO creates, and managing water pollution was the government's impetus for coining the term "CAFO" in the first place.

Each year, industrial livestock operations create a staggering amount of manure and other farm animal waste; 941 billion pounds, according to a Food and Water Watch report from 2024.

For poultry farms, the threshold to qualify as medium- or large-sized is lower if the facility uses liquid manure handling systems, as these systems are more prone to leakage, and thus polluting nearby waterways, than dry systems.

Finally, the director of the EPA has the authority to designate individual facilities as CAFOs on a case-by-case basis, should they determine that the facility in question is a significant contributor to water pollution.

Are CAFOs the Same as Factory Farms?

Unlike "CAFO," the term "factory farm" isn't a legal term with a statutory definition. It's more of a general concept that's used colloquially to describe CAFO-like facilities.

Merriam-Webster defines a factory farm as one in which "large numbers of livestock are raised indoors in conditions intended to maximize production at minimal cost." That's a simpler, less specific and potentially more expansive definition than the government's definition of a CAFO; depending on how one interprets the word "large," it's easy to imagine a facility that meets the dictionary definition of factory farm but doesn't technically qualify as a CAFO.

Ikerd, however, defines "factory farm" a bit differently. He says that it's a "farming operation that basically functions like a factory."

"You put [the animals] into this factory-like setting, and then you apply certain routine procedures to them that are specified by the people that are contracting with them," Ikerd says. "And then you come out with a finished product on the other end, whether that's meat, or milk or eggs."

CAFOs, by the Numbers

According to the EPA's latest numbers, there are 21,179 CAFOs in the United States.

Most U.S. states have at least one CAFO, but they're not evenly distributed across the country. Iowa is home to the most CAFOs (around 4,025), and another five states have over 1,000 CAFOs in their borders. The majority of states (28) have between 100 and 1,000 CAFOs, while a small handful have under 10.

How CAFOs Pollute the Water

CAFOs generate an estimated 941 billion pounds of manure each year, and dealing with that manure is a major challenge for farm operators. Typically, it's either stored on-site in a lagoon or similar structure until it can be sprayed onto nearby crops for use as untreated fertilizer.

Nutrient Runoff

Manure lagoons can be prone to leaks and malfunctions, especially during storms, and even a light rain can wash the fertilizer on cropland into nearby rivers, lakes and streams. This is what's known as nutrient runoff, and it's especially common when manure is overapplied as fertilizer, which Ikerd says is common on CAFOs.

Algal Blooms

The impacts of CAFO-sourced water pollution has severe consequences for humans, animals and the environment. Along with other pollution, it leads to harmful algal blooms, an overgrowth of algae that can cause mass fish die-offs and extensive damage to aquatic ecosystems. Harmful algal blooms can also contaminate drinking and recreational water, and have been linked to at least one fatal case of paralytic shellfish poisoning in a human.

Disease Risk & Antibiotic Resistance

Livestock manure can also contain infectious bacteria, such as E.coli and salmonella, that can end up in the air and water nearby CAFOs, and even nearby fruit and vegetable farms.

The antibiotics that farmers administer to animals on CAFOs are also fueling the world's antibiotic resistance problem, a public health threat that kills over one million people every year.

How Are CAFOs Regulated?

Facilities that meet the government's definition of a CAFO have to abide by a few modest requirements relating to its manure and waste management.

First, any CAFO that discharges pollutants into waters of the United States - a legal term that we'll discuss in a moment - is required to obtain a National Pollutant Discharge Elimination System (NPDES) permit. These permits place limits on the amount and type of pollutants that the CAFO in question is allowed to discharge. The EPA defines a pollutant as "any industrial, municipal and agricultural waste."

Second, any CAFOs with a NPDES permit - and all large CAFOs, regardless of whether they have a permit - must present the EPA with a nutrient management plan. This is simply a description of the procedures the CAFO will use to manage the manure, animal parts, wastewater and other potential pollutants it produces, and ensure that they don't contaminate nearby water in excess of the limits imposed by the NPDES.

Environmental Loopholes to CAFO Regulation

There are some loopholes in this system. The first concerns which types of waterways a CAFO isn't allowed to discharge pollutants into without a permit. EPA rules use the phrase "waters of the United States" (WOTUS), a legal designation created by the Clean Water Act that's been subject to significant litigation and modification over the decades, most recently in 2023.

The nuances of WOTUS designations are incredibly complex and technical, but broadly speaking, the term covers most major and permanent waterways while excluding some smaller, unofficial and impermanent ones.

As a result, there are some CAFOs that don't need to obtain an NPDES permit, or abide by any limits that such a permit would impose. CAFOs that discharge their waste into non-WOTUS designated waterways are exempt from permitting, and so are those whose waste indirectly ends up in waterways. This latter category includes farms that store their manure in lagoons or apply it as untreated fertilizer to crops.

This might sound like a small loophole, but it has enormous implications. According to the EPA's own data, less than one-third of all CAFOs in the U.S. have an NPDES permit. In Iowa, the state with the most CAFOs, less than four percent are NPDES-permitted.

If CAFOs violate the terms of their NPDES permit - and they often do - the EPA can fine them. But this brings us to another problem with the regulatory framework around CAFOs: When the water is polluted, it's tough to figure out exactly where that pollution came from.

"It's very difficult to prove a violation, and link a violation to a particular CAFO," Ikerd explains. "If you've got pollution in a stream, it's very hard to bring that back to one particular operation. So you've got to go through the process of saying, 'it came from this particular operation rather than another,' and that's really made it difficult to enforce."

Some states have created their own permitting regimes for CAFOs that go above and beyond the EPA's requirements. Oregon, for instance, allows its state environmental agency to require NPDES permits for all enclosed animal farms, regardless of their size. As a result, the state has issued more than twice as many NPDES permits as there are CAFOs within its borders.

Some Community Groups Are Pushing Back on New CAFOs

The rising number of CAFOs in the United States are driven by a growing global population with a massive appetite for cheap meat. But a relatively new phenomenon is emerging in communities across the United States: small groups of residents who oppose the construction of new CAFOs are working together to block factory farm expansion. And some of them, like one that formed in Linn County, Oregon, are even finding success. Of course, it's highly unlikely that the CAFO industry will be put out of business anytime soon, but still, the nascent anti-factory farm movement is one to watch.


Seth Millstein wrote this article for Sentient.


get more stories like this via email

By Jessica Scott-Reid for Sentient.
Broadcast version by Terri Dee for Ohio News Connection reporting for the Sentient-Public News Service Collaboration

Regenerative agriculture continues to capture attention - praised in star‑studded documentaries like "Kiss the Ground" and "Common Ground," and featured heavily in Biden's "climate-smart agriculture" programs. The promise sounds compelling. With the right type of cattle grazing and soil-enhancing farming practices, we can eat all the beef we want, guilt-free. But as climate scientist Jonathan Foley explained in a recent webinar hosted by the Food and Farming Journalism Network: "We're finding that the results of real field trials, replicated at scale, aren't producing the results we see in the movies." According to Foley, many of the promises of regenerative agriculture "have been overhyped."

Around a third of global greenhouse gas emissions come from food, with most of those emissions driven by meat -- especially beef. Regenerative agriculture has remained a popular initiative for many, but the math that its carbon-saving calculations are based on simply doesn't pencil out.

There's no way to make regenerative agriculture work, at least not if Americans and others in Global North countries continue to eat the same amount of meat. "Regenerative [agriculture] can only happen if our thinking, our philosophy, our diet and our food, changes," Rattan Lal, distinguished professor of soil science at Ohio State University, tells Sentient. That includes drastically reducing meat consumption, not just making meat "better."

What Does 'Regenerative Agriculture' Mean?

Regenerative agriculture doesn't have a single, universally accepted definition, but core practices of regenerative farming tend to include planting cover crops, avoiding soil tillage and rotating livestock - especially cattle - across pastures to graze. Mainly drawn from Indigenous knowledge, these practices can benefit soil health.

As a climate solution, however, the evidence doesn't stack up. The basic idea behind regenerative meat as a climate solution goes like this: whatever emissions that are produced as a result of raising beef are offset by regenerative farming practices. Those practices, the argument goes, can capture carbon out of the air and into the soil permanently, which is what you need for an offset to be effective, so that the climate pollution from the meat doesn't count.

But research shows regenerative farming is not effective at permanent, or even long-lasting, carbon sequestration (again, that's what you need for a carbon offset to work).

Foley, who is also the Executive Director for the climate solutions research group Project Drawdown, summed it up this way in the webinar: "if you don't cherry pick the data, and you look at it more systematically, regenerative grazing in particular doesn't look quite as strong as it might at first appear."

Regenerative Grazing Has a Land Problem, Which Is Also a Climate Problem

Regenerative grazing can only do so much with carbon. Unlike what happens in native forests, prairies and wetlands, on a farm, carbon is indeed added into the ground, but only transiently and only in the topsoil.

At that depth, rapid microbial turnover releases much of the carbon back into the atmosphere, and does not store it permanently. In order to be an effective offset, the carbon needs to be stored in the ground permanently.

Regenerative grazing also uses more land. In addition to the methane burps, that's a big part of why beef - no matter how you farm it - has such a massive climate cost is the land.

A 2020 study found that regenerative ranching requires up to 2.5 times more land than conventional beef production. In practical terms, that means to produce the same amount of meat that we consume now but with regenerative farming practices, the "footprint of animal agriculture" would have to increase substantially.

Even switching from factory-farmed to grass-fed beef in the U.S. would take a heavy toll. Research shows that grass-fed beef production actually emits more greenhouse gas emissions than conventional farming.

That's because factory farms, for all of their problems, are just far more efficient at raising meat. And efficiency is a good thing, at least if you are solely focused on greenhouse gas emissions (critics of this perspective sometimes call this view "carbon tunnel vision"). Grass-fed beef production, being far less efficient, emits more methane per cow and requires more land.

One study from 2018 estimated that shifting the beef cattle population to grass-fed cows would require increasing the national cattle herd from 77 million to 100 million - about a 30 percent jump.

Eat Less Meat and Rewild More Land

Lal, who is supportive of regenerative agriculture, says that the only way for the regenerative approach to work at-scale is with a reduction in meat production and consumption, and a return of some agricultural lands to nature, otherwise known as rewilding.

"Agriculture has been a problem," Lal says, because over time, we humans have deforested massive amounts of carbon-storing forests and other native landscapes to produce food for a growing global population.

But that deforestation came with a major climate pollution cost, and our ongoing deforestation to feed our global meat habit today is only adding to that cost.

Now, both global temperatures and populations are continuing to increase, and if we want to stave off the worst effects of climate change, while also feeding a lot more people, we need to take a few important steps, both Lal and Foley agree.

According to Foley, "we've got to cut the emissions in the first place." One way of doing that is by eating less beef. In 2018, a report from the World Resources Institute found that U.S. beef consumption needs to be reduced by about 40 percent to limit global warming effectively.

There are other measures needed too. In addition to eating less meat, Foley said during the webinar, we need to "restore nature, shrink the footprint of agriculture, put back the forest, put back the natural prairies, put back the mangroves. If we could do that through curbing our diets and curbing our waste, that would be a great, great idea."

Lal describes the task ahead in stark terms. We have an obligation, he says, "not only technologically and economically, but also morally and ethically, to return some of that extra land back to nature."

In order to do that through regenerative practices, "some productivity has to be sacrificed. So we [have to] change our diet, [to eat less meat]." After all, "Do we need to eat meat three times a day?" asks Lal, rhetorically. "Three times a day meat-based, is not healthy for people and not healthy for the planet."

Lal has many big changes in mind: "our thinking, our diet, our way of life, our food habits, our food system - all that has to change. It is really transformation and regeneration [that's needed], not only of agriculture, but of our own thinking and lifestyle as well."


Jessica Scott-Reid wrote this article for Sentient.


get more stories like this via email