Fewer Farmers and More Barriers
It should be hard to believe. But it’s true.
On June 17, 2025, the USDA announced it was canceling 145 equity-focused grants, cutting $148.6 million in funding meant to support the exact kind of farmers we claim to need more of:
New and beginning growers
Farmers of color
Urban food producers
Community-led projects in low-access areas
These weren’t handouts. They were on-ramps. Programs that were designed to help people start without land, capital, or generational infrastructure. For many, they were the only institutional support received.
Now that scaffolding is gone.
And the USDA is replacing them with: "a renewed focus on traditional agriculture priorities." Their words, not mine.
But here is some context for what that actually means:
The "average American farmer" is 58 years old, White, and Male. And he is 3.5 times more likely to die by suicide than the general population.
That’s not just a statistic. That is a system in decline.
We need MORE farmers. Not fewer. And certainly not more barriers.
If you’ve read my work before, you know I’m not interested in hype or hand-wringing. I’m interested in systems that work.
Because while funding has been stripped away, the work doesn’t stop. And neither should we.
When policy steps back, systems have to step up. So if you’re one of the growers who just lost support, or never had it to begin with, then this is for you. Here’s what it can actually look like to design a farm that works without institutional backing.
In urban agriculture, the danger isn’t just losing money. It’s wasting time chasing complexity instead of solving for consistency. We’re not short on enthusiasm. We’re short on systems that actually return a profit per square foot, per week, with known inputs and repeatable outcomes.
Here’s how I would explain it to a new grower: Start with the unsexy, but dependable crops. Think baby greens, kale, or spinach. Fast turnover. Short risk window. Continuous harvest. They aren’t prestige crops, but they are forgiving. And more importantly, they’re profitable when your system is designed around labor, energy, and packaging. Not just production.
The real victory isn’t in what you grow. It’s whether you’ve validated the demand, structured your labor, and designed your farm around operational reality. Not around trends.
Chris Higgins, of Hort Americas, said it best: "Start from what’s already working in commercial culture. Then evolve it." In other words: don’t reinvent the wheel. But, you also don’t copy your neighbor’s broken model either.
Just because your neighbor grows tomatoes doesn’t mean you should copy their risk. Leadership in farming means choosing what works, not what looks impressive.
So, before you plant anything, run this three-part test. If you fail any part, pause and rethink:
What is the weekly yield? Calculate per square foot, not per harvest.
Who is buying it, how much, and how often will they reorder?
Can one person harvest, wash, and pack it in under 10 minutes per unit?
If you can’t answer all three with confidence, the crop isn’t ready. And neither is your system.
Because this is what systems thinking looks like when the system doesn’t support you.
If the scaffolding is gone, we can build our own.
You can build a meaningful farm. But it starts with discipline. Not dreams.
Scale with margins. Not magic.