Mighty Neighbourly – Who gets to call themselves a farmer?
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat” – The Man in The Arena, Theodore Roosevelt
The Theodore Roosevelt quote hangs in the halls of our businesses. It’s a mantra we live by and one that epitomizes what it takes to be a farmer—not just the dust, sweat, and blood, but also the idea that “it is not the critic that counts.”
When you put yourself in the public eye, you invite criticism. I knew that going into the ventures we run, but sometimes, it still gets to me. The other day, I saw something simple in response to one of my posts on social media—#deskfarmer—and for the first time, I took offense. It got me thinking: what actually defines a farmer?
Life Experience
The post implied that unless I had 30 years of experience and had fought off bankruptcy, I wasn’t a real farmer. Guess they didn’t follow my story too closely.
I rented my first quarter of land at 18, bought my first at 24, and took over management of the farm before I was 30. That first year, we seeded only half the crop due to rain while also building my first home on the farm. It was the tightest I’ve ever been on money and stress, and I swore I’d never go back.
Now, more than two decades in, I guess I’ve lost my “farmer” credentials because I chose to be a small part of something big rather than a big part of something small. Apparently, if you’re not a primary owner, you don’t make the cut. No wonder we have labour and succession issues—we’ve created barriers to entry that push people away from the industry instead of inviting them in.
The reality is, the next generation of farm leaders might not have grown up on an operation. They might never have seen a crop before entering the industry. With fewer farm kids returning, we need solutions, not gatekeeping. But then again, if the requirement to be a “real” farmer is facing bankruptcy, no wonder fewer people are signing up.
In the Dirt
Most farm owners I work with haven’t seen the inside of a cab in years. That realization hit me hard when I returned to public accounting after selling my farm. My biggest client once told me that buying equipment was easy—he had no attachment to massage seats because he never sat in them anyway.
The farmers of today and tomorrow will spend more time in boardrooms than in tractor cabs. More time making deals than digging in the dirt. That’s just reality.
I know this isn’t what people want to hear, because it challenges the traditional idea of farming as a way of life. But the truth is, farming is no longer just about growing crops. It’s about marketing, negotiating, branding, and financial strategy.
If you’re worth over a million dollars, you’re already running a complex business—whether you see it that way or not. The days of staying small and complacent are over. Inflation will kill the family farm faster than change ever will.
So if running a farm like a business strips away someone’s “farmer” badge, the next census is going to show a whole lot fewer of us.
Victim Mentality
I watched my dad go through tough years, almost losing the farm more than once. By the old definition, I guess that made him a “real” farmer. But here’s what stood out—he never blamed anyone. He didn’t complain. He just got to work.
That mindset is rare today. I see too many people in agriculture looking for someone to blame—banks, government, the weather—without finding ways to work within the system to their advantage.
- Don’t like the risk of weather? Leverage insurance (something no other industry has).
- Think banks are wrecking agriculture? Use them to your advantage.
- Feel the government is holding you back? Find ways to make sustainability funding profitable.
I’ve said it before—if you bring dead cats, bring a shovel. If you bring problems, bring solutions. But many others choose to remain victims and as one of my social comments exclaimed “shove your data up you’re a$$”. Guess I struck a nerve.
Redefining the Farmer
I wrote this because, clearly, I’m still bothered. I grew up in this industry. I felt the pride of owning my own farm, and today, I feel the pride of being part of something bigger alongside a close friend and business partner.
Being a farmer isn’t a title you earn or lose—it’s a mindset.
It’s a sense of pride, ownership, and responsibility.
Whether you’re in the cab or the boardroom, whether you’re running your own operation or helping build something bigger, if you’re committed to feeding the world and making agriculture better, you belong in this industry.
At the end of the day, farming isn’t just about dirt.
It’s about building something that lasts.
