INNISFAIL – With the impacts of a destabilized climate already creating unmistakable ecological changes to a swath of fertile Alberta farmland once hailed as the “sure-crop” area, a local producer whose agricultural operation was among almost 40 from across Canada to be featured in a series of short documentaries said “the time for doubt is over” and urges the provinces’ premiers to take collaborative action alongside the federal government.
“We are now living in a world that used to be 300 miles south of us,” said Glenn Norman, who for decades has farmed and ranched a property near Innisfail.
The conditions in central Alberta are increasingly akin to what would once have been more commonly experienced closer to the border with the U.S., said Norman.
He refers to increasing temperatures combined with more powerful winds with the potential to cause greater damage as well as less frequent rains and overall lower amounts of annual precipitation that has driven a reduced level of ground moisture and a subsequent shift in an ecology that is now more prone to persistent droughts,
“If your crop survived the hailstorms, you were going to get one of the best crops in the province, right here in Innisfail, Bowden, Olds area through up to about Penhold or so,” he said.
“This was known as the sure-crop area. It sure as heck isn’t anymore,” he said. “I mean, you’re looking at massive feed shortage here in this province.”
A good bale of hay can fetch a price at auction upward of $225 or more, he said.
“You can’t feed a cow at $225 a bale because we have no control over our returns from the product we produce,” he said.
And while yields for grain seem to continue doing fairly well, they overall are trending downward, he said.
“It doesn’t seem to rain (as much) anymore and when it does, it’s 35 degrees and that rain doesn’t stick around very long,” he added.
“The carbon footprint of agriculture needs to be reduced, without a doubt. The real challenge right now is climate change itself,” he said when asked what he anticipates as potentially becoming problematic in the years ahead.
Featured farmland
Davey Creek Ranch is a part of a series of short documentaries called Depth of Field: Films About Farming that was produced by the National Farmers Union.
As a long-standing NFU member who joined in about 2009 and has served on the board in Alberta, Norman said he’d received an email from the organization that extended an invitation for interested producers to participate in the project, and that he decided to get involved.
Aspiring to be the change he wants to see in the world, Norman said he maintains a full quarter of his property as a natural environment with an area even the cattle are prohibited from venturing.
“It’s a very intact ecosystem,” he said.
The series of short documentaries also aims to shine a spotlight on more sustainable operations and practices, so the Albertan asked Norman his thoughts about feedlots.
“I’m afraid that they really aren’t very sustainable,” he said. “What happens is, you have a big concentration of animals. You are feeding in such a manner that you’re generating more and more methane from the animals…and it also is not very sustainable in the manner that the runoff is toxic; it’s environmentally damaging.”
That being said, he added there are some good feedlots “that keep that well under control” with the advantage of producing a concentration of manure, which is of course a highly efficient fertilizer.
“It does emit nitrous oxide like the chemical fertilizers, but it also puts an awful lot of organic materials right back into the ground,” he said, adding feedlots have pros and cons.
“Overall, I don’t think it’s the best way to treat animals,” he said, later adding, “the overall damage to the environment increases with the concentration of animals.”
Concentration of corporate power also a concern
However, his concern stems not only from the concentration of animal waste but also that of wealth and power into fewer hands.
“Feedlots are basically becoming bigger and bigger, and more of them are either directly contracted to the processors or even owned by the processors,” he said.
“So what happens is, they basically pay as little as they can for the calves from the cow-calf guys, and they’re the ones making most of the profit.”
Having once decades ago operated a feedlot, Norman said he doesn’t hold anything against the operators who are simply earning a living. The operations present the least damaging way for livestock to convert grass directly into animal protein, he said.
“It also is the most effective way of putting plant protein back into the soil. That’s why I say the feedlots spreading the manure on the land is not a bad thing,” he said.
“But at the same time what you end up (with), is concentrations of manure in certain spots where it isn’t actually being all used by the plants and it’s leaving as runoff or gassing off. So, there might be a way in the future of producing organic fertilizer for a lot more farms.”
At his modest-by-comparison, direct-marketing operation, he said the animals are fed in the same manner as they were for the family dinner table growing up – smaller quantities of grain over a longer period of time.
“Guys who feed cattle tell you that’s not effective. But what is effective, is keeping the animal’s health up (and) at the same time producing a meat that’s healthy and has quite a different taste to it,” he said, adding his many return customers seem quite satisfied.
“I don’t feed silage; I feed strictly grass-hay to the cows who are being fed – or grass – and just small quantities of grain,” he said. “I’ve never had a liver or an organ condemned on any animal. Every organ comes out and is available for either turning into dog food or for human consumption.”
Cutting out the middle man
Formerly running a cow-calf operation with a herd of about 200 animals as well as farming his own hay feed, the 68-year-old eventually decided about a decade ago to scale back to a direct-marketing approach selling finished beef straight to customers, and no longer deals with auctions or by extension, feedlots.
“I have a heard of cows and I raise them all the way,” he said, adding the way he puts it is, “nothing leaves the farm, except swinging from a loader or in a box.”
The operation now has about 40 breeding animals, and Norman said the last time his cattle ended up in a feedlot was about 10 years ago.
“I generally sold by auction. So, it wouldn’t have been directly to the feedlot,” he said.
“How it works is generally the calves are sold at auction where they’re picked up by buyers who are either buying for feedlots or buying for farms that are going to keep them over winter and then grass feed them over the summer and then sell them to feedlots.”
Making the switch over to a direct-marketing approach has largely proved to be a sound decision, he said.
“It’s worked out quite well because it puts more dollars in my pocket per animal; I take out the middle man,” he said.
“I am able to run a smaller herd of cows and make about the same income from them,” he said, adding he manages to sell roughly 25 finished animals a year; some as halves or quarters and occasionally even a whole animal.
“Not very many people can take a whole animal,” he said, adding the rest is packaged and sold.
But changes – whether in the economy, climate or his health – are a constant, and he is always considering ways to adapt.
“It’s an evolving operation. It’s the realization that you can’t do the work that you could when you were 50 – or even for that matter when you were younger. Looking after cattle is quite a bit of work,” he said.
“I am not at a point where I believe I’m physically fit to be looking after 200 animals,” he said, with a chuckle.
“I’m gradually reducing my beef operation even further. I’m moving into bees and honey,” he said, adding that’ll hopefully open up the winter schedule and that his wife Patricia also has plans to retire before much longer.
“It’s time we go and see and do other things than just farm,” he said.
“I hope to be on a beach somewhere enjoying the last years I have,” he added with a laugh when asked where he anticipates being in another 10 years.
Succession line in limbo
But as much as Norman would like to establish a line of succession to ensure his operation’s longevity, that aspiration seems to remain elusive.
“I’d like to find a young person who wanted to take over this operation,” he said.
“But they’re few and far between. Even through my contacts through the NFU, there’s very few young people who are willing to take on beef and cows. They’re really big animals and they frighten a lot of people because you can get hurt by a cow pretty easy. And it’s a lot of physical work.”
Most younger people who do endeavour to get into agriculture, he added, switch over to grain.
The other aspect of his operation involves growing and selling hay as well as feed, which prior to a few years ago would average annual sales in the range of 300 to 400 bales, provided hail hadn’t pummelled the crop. But that yield has in recent years been steadily plummeting down to barely more than 100 bales.
“Prior to that, a good year was 400 bales, a poor year was about maybe 260. So, that’s a large drop in revenue,” he said, adding the amount of input costs involved quickly make that a “money-losing crop.”
He attributes those complications to changes in the climate.
“It’s just too dry and too hot,” he said.
Government should lead research efforts
Governments at all levels cannot abdicate their responsibility to for-profit entities and must invest more in researching ways to help agricultural producers adapt to these changes, he says.
“The Alberta government doesn’t seem to want to be into agricultural research,” said Norman, adding he does not trust corporations to take the lead.
“Corporations are only interested in the profit they make; so, their research always leans towards making them profit. It doesn’t lean towards making the farmer a profit,” he said.
Compounding the situation was the provincial government’s decision to substantially cut back on those efforts, he said, citing as examples research centres in Vegreville and Fort Saskatchewan where projects were either substantially scaled back or outright shut down.
“The research centre in Brooks is gone,” he added. “They were funded by the government, by provincial agriculture. They were shut down by (MLA Devin) Dreeshen while he was the ag minister. My MLA. I find it despicable. When we needed these things the most, they’re gone.”
That’s a short-sighted policy approach Norman would like to see reversed.
“Let’s get government back into research that’s independent from the corporations and actually help farmers deal with the problems we’re facing, which is greenhouse gases and climate change itself,” he said.
“The federal and provincial governments need to get together and stop bloody well fighting over stupid things, and look at farming and how farming has to deal with the changing climate and how we have to deal with reducing our greenhouse gas output.”
“The time for doubt is over”
Offering thoughts on self-described climate skeptics, Norman was blunt.
“It’s pretty simple: grow up and open your eyes. The science of it is all around us,” he said. “I mean after this year, the smoke and the fires, what more do you need. What more do you need?”
From his own personal perspective, Norman described the subtle changes in climate that he has seen unfolding on his land over the decades.
“I’ve seen a shift in plants; certain plants seem to do better than others,” he said, citing as one example thirstier poplar trees that are gradually being replaced by aspens that tend to do better in drier conditions.
“There’s a whole shift in our ecology in the plants. And I think in the animals too,” he said, citing the disappearance of once-regularly nesting barn swallows.
“The last pair left here two years ago and never returned,” he said, adding “the signs are there” for anyone with eyes to see.
“People don’t seem to want to recognize this,” he said. “The time for doubt is over.”
And the action we should be taking, he asserts, ought to include developing a climate resilience strategy by establishing an agency similar to the Prairie Farm Rehabilitation Administration, which was a federal government department introduced in 1935 as a response to drought, abandoned farms and land degradation experienced at the time.
The provinces need to work with the feds to bring together scientists and agronomists to determine ways to reduce emissions like CO2 and methane “without necessarily legislating us to follow rules, but rather showing us how to do it – how to still maintain the yields, how to still maintain the profits,” he said.
“We need some sort of cooperative government agency that works to show us how we can achieve the goals we need and helps us deal with the problems we’ve already created in the environment – the lack of moisture and the heat.”
The films are being released in a staggered frequency throughout the winter, with several of them available for viewing on the NFU website as well as YouTube.
