Buckle Up
How do you put your seatbelt on as your truck rams into the ditch?
This week, as sprigs of green grass popped up overnight and calves kicked up their heels in the sunshine, I wondered how I should brace for a deep recession.
A world where people don’t spend money because they don’t have any is hard to envision as I rope a newborn calf to tag it, but here it is, right now.
Two-thirds of our economy depends on consumer spending, yet nobody is spending. When I paid bills the other day, I realized I’m nobody, too.
The economic truck is in the ditch. Lean businesses that have access to cash to carry them through already clicked their seatbelts.
Some experts predict the economic truck will drive right out of the ditch and back on the road.
They say that as soon as people are released from social isolation, they will spend money like crazy, and businesses will bounce back or even expand.
The mighty American economy will be back with a vengeance.
In the food production and distribution world, I have no doubt as soon as people go back to work, they will go out to eat.
They miss their lattes.
But unlike larger businesses who have deeper pockets, many of my customers don’t have $500 in their savings accounts. They never have and might never.
Restaurants face strong-arm tactics, too.
Several restaurant owners have said that they would love to buy locally, but large delivery companies insist they purchase everything or nothing. Long miles demand full trucks. It is not worthwhile to deliver small orders.
And, of course, the four mega-packers who control 80 percent of the U.S. beef market are raking in record profits while cow-calf producers are filing for bankruptcy at record rates.
The commodity cattle market continues to plummet.
But these aspects of the food economy are nothing new.
Covid-19 didn’t cause them and won’t resolve them.
But agricultural producers deal with uncertainty every day.
We buckled our seatbelts long ago, knowing full well that the truck can hit the ditch in a blink of an eye.
And we know we can pull that truck out of the ditch, too.
With cash.
As long as I can pay a few bills while I wait for the economy to bounce back, I’ll be fine.
In fact, maybe a few opportunities will present themselves while I wait.
I like to avoid the commodity market as much as I can – mostly because I don’t like people to tell me what to do, including the price at which I should sell my livestock.
So while I tag another calf, I think about how I can turn my grass into something people might use.
I can’t grow coffee here so lattes are out.
A business consultant once said to think about the assets of the ranch vertically.
Besides selling grass by running it through cows and sheep, I also have the opportunity to develop markets from my soil all the way up to thin air.
Above the grass lies beautiful scenery, sunshine and wind.
The muddy ruts might cause a customer to look down for a moment, but I wonder what she would pay to see when she looks up.
I wonder what she would like to eat and what she would want to wear.
After all, every source of wealth emanates from natural resources.
All I have to do is fill the gap between soil, water, sunshine and air and the needs and desires of that customer.
So if you see my truck headed toward the ditch, know that I’m wearing my seatbelt.
I know yours is buckled, too.