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by Ray Starling

The headline for this story refers to an Old Testament passage in which the prophet Isaiah hears the Lord ask: “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” With what we are left to believe is a quick response, Isaiah responds “Here am I, send me!”

Those of us whose incomes are dependent on the success and longevity of American agriculture might hope some of our fellow aggies hear and respond favorably to a similar call from Washington. 

This year, we are expected to conclude a three-year period during which more federal government support has flowed to farmers than in any similar length of time in the United States’ brief history. The return of $15 soybeans and flirtation with $8 corn has us giddy—although such prices could already be down by the time you read this. Or, they could go higher. (I heard someone say he was waiting for $17!)

Power has been restored, gas is flowing again, government aid has flowed freely to families that are very likely to spend at least some of it on food, the bank’s money is cheap, and ag equipment makers are experiencing demand unlike anything in modern history. 

At the same time, workers are hard to find for everyone, supply chains remain stressed, and we can’t seem to decide if COVID is over. Some rain wouldn’t hurt (as of late May), foreign demand for commodities remains hard to predict, and there is a feeling that inflation is prowling just outside. 

It is a “best of times, worst of times” kind of feeling. 

What has any of that got to do with an Old Testament recruitment ad?  In my opinion, everything. Let me explain. 

With the exception of the weather, every circumstance mentioned above is inextricably linked to some form of current or former government intervention.

I am fond of saying that one of the primary determinants of agricultural success in the U.S. is government policy. Let’s face it. It picks winners and losers, instills mandates and decides when to waive them, dictates many of our international marketing opportunities, drives our health care and education costs, regulates what we apply and when we apply it, and is rumored to have a thing or two to say about what energy we develop, deploy, and consume.

For those who want to debate the waxing or waning of the “era of big government,” they might want to speak with an agribusiness owner first. The people who are “here to help” are everywhere. 

So, who is making the decisions? With agriculture and agribusiness being a top five industry in over half of our states, surely we are well represented in Congress? Well, it depends on whom you ask. I can argue it either way.  

The Congressional Research Service recently updated profiling the membership of the current Congress. Not surprisingly, the report points out that “the dominant professions of [Congressional Members] are public service/politics, business, and law.”

I was surprised to see in the report there are 27 farmers, ranchers, or cattle farm owners in Congress (six in the Senate, 21 in the House). With slots for 435 House members and 100 Senators, it appears that, as a percentage, farm owners make up about 5 percent of the overall elected officials class in Washington, D.C. 

Another way to count farmer noses on the Hill is to check the USDA subsidy database. In October, the Environmental Working Group reported that 33 members of Congress and their immediate family members collected farm subsidies between 1995 and 2020. This is in no way an endorsement of EWG’s data, but those numbers appear to corroborate the CRS data.

One could easily argue that farmers are overrepresented in Congress. They make up about 5 percent of the membership but constitute only slightly more than 1 percent of the total U.S. population. But before you crow about that, you should know that 5 percent figure actually marks a steep decline in farmer representation since the end of World War II.    

A progressive leaning thinktank called the Brookings Institute and a conservative leaning one called the American Enterprise Institute jointly publish a document entitled which has tracked the professions of Congressional members over the past 70 years.  In 1953, the House had 63 members whose occupation before being sworn into Congress was agriculture, while the Senate had 21. Converting the numbers for that Congress to a percentage, it was more than 15 percent agrarian. 

The clearest trendline here is that farmer participation in the Congress is in decline, even if we are still holding our own.

The shrinking number of aggies working under the dome has been felt in ways other than just the raw data. A prominent agriculture lobbyist told me earlier this year that the House Agriculture Committee had to actively recruit members to join the Committee. There are 47 slots to fill on the House committee alone, so even if all the farmers joined it, they’d have to recruit more than two dozen more.

In the Senate, members still mostly appear to jockey to join the Committee, which is why there were some raised eyebrows when the Committee welcomed its first vegan this past January. 

It is worth mentioning that this is a bi-partisan concern. Washington “think” tanks—which will absolutely never be confused with “do” tanks—on the right and the left offer one ignorant proposal after another in the agriculture space. Neither side has a monopoly on good ideas, and both often make recommendations based on misunderstandings or bumper sticker slogans.

The point here is that much is said of big agriculture and its grip on Washington. And farmers have, in recent history, punched above their weight. But the forecast is not promising. With aggies making up a smaller and smaller portion of the American electorate, a similar fate likely awaits their participation percentage in elected office.

But it doesn’t have to be that way. �鶹apps are generally highly regarded, known in their communities, and are probably owed a few favors by all the folks they’ve pulled from ditches or given hayrides over the years. Our farmer and agribusiness associations should offer resources for agriculturalists willing to explore public office, and those of us with checkbooks should step up to support them when they do. 

To come full circle, in the passage referenced at the outset, Isaiah was ultimately called into some serious duty. With the support of those across our profession, hopefully we can find folks willing to answer the “whom shall I send?” call. The future of ag policy depends on it.