“Model” Ranching

When we started building our commercial sheep business 15 years ago, our first grazing lease was on a beautiful property between Grass Valley and Nevada City. The “farm,” owned by a development company based in San Francisco, was slated to become a different kind of subdivision. The centerpiece of the proposed community would be the “farm” - a diversified, small-scale vegetable and orchard operation where residents could buy hyper-fresh and hyper-local food. Our sheep were there to manage the meadows - and to demonstrate that a true local farm of the future could incorporate both crops and livestock. Several years later (after we and our sheep had moved on), county planners denied the development proposal, and the owners packed up their bags. Today, the “farm” no longer exists as a commercial enterprise. For me, it was my first experience with “model” ranching.

In the intervening years, I've observed a number of "model" farms and ranches - some founded and operated by nonprofit organizations, others by well-meaning, often wealthy individuals. While there is certainly some value in terms of innovation and alternative methods, I find myself somewhat put off by these "businesses." For me, at least, there is always an underlying sense of superiority - "we know better."

Farming or ranching "better" in many cases seems to involve enormous amounts of capital and labor - resources that are often well beyond the capacity of most "commercial" farms and ranches (or least our ranch). To farm the 10 acres or so devoted to crops and orchards, the Grass Valley "farm" had 3 tractors and all of the associated implements, an excavator, and a dozen part-time and full-time employees. A model cattle "ranch" here in California employs 20 people to manage 100-plus cows. Access to capital and the ability to hire seemingly an unlimited amount of labor allows these "models" to short-circuit the economic and financial analysis that most farms and ranches must undertake.

Innovation is critical - in farming as in other endeavors. I'll admit that many of us in agriculture (myself included) fall into the trap of saying, "We've always done it that way," or "That might work for the rich guy, but it won't work here." Innovation often requires risk taking - financial risk, as well as the risk of being ridiculed by one's neighbors. But reality is also important. And reality, for most businesses, requires at least some measure of profit.

I'm sometimes conflicted about the word profit. In some respects, I devote time to raising sheep as a rejection of the corporate focus on profit above all else. Many of the farmers and ranchers I know in the Sierra foothills (and elsewhere) have the same perspective - we farm because we love the work, not because we think we're going to make a killing doing it. Even so, we need to make a living to make a life in farming or ranching. Flying Mule Sheep Company doesn't exist simply to make a profit, but without profit (admittedly very small in the case of our part-time ranch), we can't continue to exist. While every start up business (including a farm or ranch) goes through a period of unprofitability, these "model" operations seem to be able to weather this financial drought for much longer than most of us.

Finally, the "model" farms and ranches I've observed often have an evangelical quality that I find off-putting. There is a sense of zealotry - and superiority - that can make the message of innovation and improvement difficult for me to hear. These farmers and ranchers convey a sense that if a particular approach (or ideology) isn't resulting in your farm or ranch making tremendous improvements in sustainability and profitability like their own, then you're not doing it right. You're not a true believer.

As I write this, I realize that part of my angst is due to capital and labor envy. We've settled on a small-scale, part-time business model partly because it fits with the other things we do (both professionally and personally). But if I'm completely honest, we've also settled on being small scale because we lack the financial capacity to be large enough to make our living entirely from raising sheep. I'll admit that I look over the "fence" at these "model" farms and ranches and wish I had their resources. Perhaps this comes down to a question of attitude and perspective; I find that I'm more open to new ideas when the person bringing them to me starts by asking me questions rather than by giving me "answers."