Is bigger better? Is there a tipping point when it comes to scale? Are we asking the right questions? Let’s talk about the reality of ‘scaling up.’

There is a moment that comes for almost every farmer. You’ll recognize it when it comes. One day, you’re standing in the yard, looking at the barn, the tractor, the feed bins, the fencing that needs repair, the equipment that’s just a little too small, a little too old, a little too slow for the work you need to do and you’ll think to yourself, “If I had just a few more animals, a few more acres, this could all. . . work.”

Now, we’re not talking anything crazy, nothing too extravagant — just “a few more.” Enough to make the numbers on that spreadsheet glowing on the laptop on your kitchen table make sense. Eighty pairs instead of sixty or from the M series to the R series. Maybe bumping barn space from 3000 square feet to 4500 square feet, or expanding the grain bin capacity to 5235 bushels from 3270 bushels .

Maybe, you think to yourself as you stand there squinting, the problem is that the resources you have are too small to justify the tractor/barn/bin or land you really need.

When that day comes, you’ll head back to the laptop and start working the numbers. You’ll plan, sharpen your pencil, talk to the lender and look at amortization schedules, interest rates and payment plans. And miraculously, it all maths.

The extra animals you’ve got your eye on will cover the loan and on your spreadsheet, the new equipment makes you more efficient — what used to take weeks now looks like days, or from days you’re down to hours. Captured within those little formulas and cells, the bigger system looks like a farm that runs the way it’s supposed to. So you take a gulp, take a breath and put pen to paper.

The Proud New Owner of ‘More’

You’re now the proud new owner of “more.” And do you know what happens? Well, for a little while — maybe even a good long while — everything is amazing. You quietly congratulate yourself for your far-seeing planning, your business prowess. You watch the new animals arrive, the new building go up, the new tractor roll into the yard. There’s the gleam of fresh paint, fences that run straight, tight and true, grain bins rising like turrets on a medieval castle. You’re the master of all you survey and man, does it ever feel like progress!!

Lookit you, you modern thing you! You’ve taken that next step, the one everyone talks about, you’ve “scaled up.” Now when the old farmers are sitting around the table at the local coffee shop, you’re what they’re talking about. You can see them in your mind’s eye, gnarled mitts wrapped around mismatched mugs, shaking their heads in admiration at the way you do your business.

“That young fella, got a real head on his shoulders,” they’ll say.

And Then What Happens?

Well, then the bills start. Not just the loan payment — that part you expected. You were ready for that. You didn’t quite calculate on the rest of it, though.

The feed bill goes up.
The vet bill goes up.
The fuel bill goes up. And up. And then up again.
The repair bill goes up.
The labour goes up, both your own and the kind you have to pay for.
The risk goes up.

You don’t just have more animals, you have more mouths to feed, more bodies to care for, more things that can go wrong, more weather to worry about, more markets to depend on, more days when you cannot afford for anything to break. When the entire system works — and the warrantees are still valid — it’s a thing of beauty Henry Ford himself would admire. When there’s a wobble at any point in the chain, it’s a different story. When you’re standing in the barn looking at down animals while the vet sets up, in your head your totting up the cost of a call-out, blood work, anaesthesia, meds, procedures and lost production. When the grinding hum of the blower suddenly shudders to a stop that feels more permanent, you’re thinking in quiet desperation of replacement parts, labour and lost production. When the rains don’t come, the snow doesn’t fall or the canola roots develop suspicious-looking lumps in one of your fields, your face tightens with the thought of low yields, low prices and — there it is again, damn-and-blast — lost production.

And the farm that was tight but manageable becomes a farm that only works if everything goes right.

The Scale Trap

This is the scale trap. You’ve found yourself in a scenario that happens because modern industrial systems — all of ’em, not just ag — teaches that improved efficiency is essential and one of the ways to get there comes from getting bigger. You, like so many before you and around you, are now a supplicant at the altar of scale. Servicing that debt is your purpose, regular payments are your sacrament.

Before anyone asks, no, I’m not . . . entirely against the debt-for-growth exchange. Sometimes — maybe — it’s the right way forward. But boy howdy, this is about as far as it’s possible to get from a “one-size-fits-all” solution.

There is a difference between a system that is too small to work and a system that only works if it keeps getting bigger — and pigeons, those are not the same problem.

Every increase in scale brings new infrastructure requirements. More animals to feed? How about upgrading your feeding system or adding another feed cart? Maybe the feed storage should expand while you’re at it. No one wants to stand in a grain bin and shovel, did you know they build an auger for that? Not to worry, in the event of any repairs, our company’s techs can come to you for repairs as part of our maintenance program — we’ll just add that to the plan.

What about your handling system? Maybe that’s in line for an upgrade. . . We’ve got you. Look at this model of squeeze, chute or pen. It lets you move more efficiently and one person can do what used to take three. That’s a savings, right? And don’t forget your manure management system — you’re going to need to upgrade, county and provincial rules say so.

How Did You Get Here?

Each step up in size does not just add work, it changes the kind of work. And somehow, every step up always seems to come with debt. Debt is the common denominator. Those little cells that seemed so full of promise way back when now feel like tiny little bricks in a wall or widgets on a factory line — you’re committed now. For as long as the payment schedule lasts.

I want to be clear here, debt on its own is not evil, loans are not a moral failure and most farms could not exist without them. As of 2024, just under 20 per cent of Alberta’s farms are operating with some kind of debt load carried by a range of lenders, from banks to government agencies to insurance companies. Those companies have their own spreadsheets. But whether the debt is the “good” kind or not, you can’t deny, debt changes the game.

When you owe money, you cannot simply have a bad year, you can’t easily gear down, you can’t always choose the option that’s best for your land, your animals or your own body. Someone else has you by the short-n-curlies and your ass(ets) is on the line. Your future. Your farm. Rain or no rain, the payments are due.

This is where scale stops being a management decision and now you’re working on a day-to-day survival strategy.

Growth and the Crystal Ball

I am not against growth, exactly. There are times when taking on debt in order to grow makes sense, I suppose. But from where I’m sitting at the ripe-old-age of 52 and just four years younger than the average Alberta farmer, the longer I look, the more debt-fuelled expansion feels like borrowing from an uncertain future to grow an uncompromising present.

Perhaps it’s time to reframe the question. Maybe it shouldn’t be, “Can I make the numbers work?“

But instead, farmers (or anyone, really) should be asking, “What kind of farm will this turn me into?“

Will I have more freedom — or less? Will I be able to absorb-and-adapt or will I be more likely to break? Do I actually have margins here or just more obligations? Is it actually more time? Am I building skills or just the equipment shed? Am I growing stewardship or will I be just hammering more through the system?

Scale is not just about size, scale is a rebuilding of the whole ecosystem. It’s worth remembering that while there may be times when the next level up is exactly what a farm needs, sometimes the next level up is the point where the farm stops belonging to you . . . and you start belonging to the farm.

This is a Living post, a post to share my thought processes, my experience and the philosophy that underpins our activities here at the homestead. It is not a how-to, “expert advice” or meant to reflect a wider experience than just my own, on my farm, here with my sheep.