๐๐๐ญ๐ข๐จ ๐๐จ๐ง๐๐๐ซ๐ข๐ง๐ : ๐๐๐ฌ๐ฉ๐๐๐ญ ๐๐ฌ๐งโ๐ญ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ฆ๐ ๐๐ฌ ๐๐ ๐ซ๐๐๐ฆ๐๐ง๐ญ
I recently watched a video where a farmer explained how their family used a grant program to upgrade older tractors to newer, lower-emission models. The backlash came fast. Some folks criticized the use of taxpayer funds, others claimed they had fallen for the โclimate hoax,โ and some just didnโt like seeing older equipment replaced at all.
In their response, the farmer said something that stuck with me: โItโs just unfortunate that people canโt be happy for other farmers. Instead of putting them down, we should encourage them to keep going.โ
I donโt have strong feelings about the tractors or the grant. But that comment got me thinking.
Somewhere along the way, โsupporting farmersโ has become a blanket expectation that we must cheer on every decision, every practice, every program, simply because itโs made by a fellow farmer. But thatโs not how it works in practice.
Now, Iโm not talking about inhumane, unethical, or illegal behavior. Iโm talking about solid disagreements on production choicesโfeed philosophy, housing systems, technology use, tillage system, or marketing strategies.
Iโve spent most of my career in swine nutrition, often selling against strong competitors. And let me tell you, Iโve respected many of themโtheir hustle, their customer relationships, their ability to close a sale. But that didnโt mean I agreed with their nutrition philosophy or product design. In fact, I often disagreed completely. Thatโs part of what drove me to offer something better.
Respect doesnโt mean endorsement. And maturity, at least for me, has meant getting comfortable with that distinction.
We can tip our hats to someoneโs effort or their right to make their own decision without feeling obligated to applaud the decision itself.