Over the past year I’ve had the great privilege of interviewing two dozen farmers across 20 counties, north and south, as part of this series of Irish Farmers’ Journeys. It’s been a real education for me to listen to these fascinating people, to trace each one’s unique journey on the land, to see their farms and to discuss contemporary farming issues in their learned company.
What continues to amaze me is just how different every farm and every farmer is – you just never know what to expect when you drive in the gate. The differences are not just across sectors but within them too, so it’s wise never to generalise about farmers, or to dismiss them based on farm size, system, age, gender or off-farm income – they are all worthy of our respect.
Succession
The journeys recorded in these pages sometimes began in tragedy, such as the loss of a parent; other times purely by chance, such as an unexpected inheritance or the onset of a pandemic. But it’s not what happens in life, it’s how you respond, as these stories attest.
It is striking, however, how several of the farmers I met did benefit greatly from being afforded some degree of autonomy by their parents from an early age, often contributing to a more streamlined succession later on.
At an average farmer age of 57, many Irish farmers are genuinely torn between wanting their children to take over the farm while recognising that it can be a tough life. This dilemma is captured well in a recent Guardian newspaper article by Durham farmer Clare Wise: “Farming isn’t what we do, it’s who we are. Our self-worth and mental health are tied to our ability to pass on our farms to the next generation.”
Uncertainty
The journeys traced in these pages rarely followed any set plan, with many interviewees relishing the opportunity to ‘paint their own canvas’. Farming life – where one is relentlessly exposed to global market forces, weather, disease and other ‘externalities’ – doesn’t lend itself well to fixed planning, always requiring adaptability. With the impacts of climate change increasingly evident, never has this been truer.
Nor are the journeys smooth – almost all farmers I met suffered from failed crops, disease outbreaks and other challenges. One beef farmer likened his profession to that of a gambler – who else would bet so heavily on a return several years down the line from such an unpredictable, high-risk business?
Balancing such uncertainty demands a different perspective on time and risk, and it often strikes me that farmers take a longer, more sanguine view of things than most – recognising that seasons and years come and go, some good, some bad, but the hope always is that things will get better. It’s usually not easy to change, so many farmers tend to grin – or groan – and bear the challenges: ‘sure, what else would I do?’.
Poor understanding
As society becomes more urbanised, attention spans shorten and narratives become more ‘binary’, the understanding and appreciation of farming seems to be eroding, a dangerous thing for a sector which relies on consumers and their taxes. An insidious narrative seems to have taken hold that farming is environmentally destructive and fading in relevance.
But the farmers highlighted here demonstrate a remarkable level of creativity, often marrying modern technology with traditional knowledge and hard-earned experience to create new outcomes which are inherently resilient and sustainable.
These articles show that, in fact, many of the solutions to challenges around climate and biodiversity are already out there. They just lack scale for various socio-economic, cultural and political reasons.
Indigenous knowledge remains seriously undervalued. But credit to the Department of Agriculture for the EIP projects, and NPWS for its Farm Plan Scheme, which do at least try to include the farmers’ perspectives with those of other stakeholders, a co-creation process which farmers embrace.
Which brings me to another common theme – the huge frustration farmers feel, particularly in their engagement with public bodies which usually mire them in more paperwork, and also their engagement with agribusinesses, retailers and lending institutions which, they feel, has eroded their freedom to farm.
Reasons to be cheerful
But there’s lots of positivity among farmers too and an underlying passion for what they do.
On a personal note, I have been proud to be involved in the publication of the Farming for Nature handbook, which rightfully highlights the contribution that farmers can, and do, make to nature in Ireland, giving voice to those farmers on the ground which are rarely heard, but have much to offer.
I’ve also been delighted to be involved in the ReFarm pilot project, securing private-sector funding for farmers for nature. Farmers need to shape this key opportunity rather than be shaped by it, as often happens. Key to this will be listening carefully to farmers’ needs and ‘building-back’ from this through research, funding and policy.
Another pet project from 2024 is The Hare’s Corner, which shows that all landowners have a role to play in looking after nature. It shouldn’t be all down to farmers. My takeaway from this project is that simple actions can make a big difference to nature, and to our own wellbeing.
Well wishes
Thanks to all who read this column for joining us on these journeys. Thanks to my interviewees for their unfailing hospitality, patience, creativity and wit throughout the year. Let’s hope 2025 is a great year for you all.
Learn more
More info on the projects referred to above, which the author engages with on a voluntary basis, are www.farmingfornature.ie; www.refarm.ie and www.burrenbeo.com/thc
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