Speaking with the Granddaddy of Grass-Fed Beef

Part One: Rural Renaissance Man

In my backyard I have a couple of Valencia orange trees. The people we bought our house from claimed they are the remnants of the citrus industry that once dominated the San Gabriel Valley. Historians and botanists might challenge this assertion, but I think my gnarled, concrete-locked, micro-orchard speaks volumes about the history of Southern California agriculture. Despite a few organic tourist farms, the odd strawberry patch, or a food hall-converted fruit packing house, little remains of what was one of the largest agro-economies in the West.

Rural collapse isn’t unique to Southern California. Across America, rural communities have been contracting or converting for decades, and it continues into the 21st Century. Half of all rural counties have fewer residents now than they did in 2000. In addition to shrinking in numbers, farmers are getting older, with the average age almost 58. It’s also harder on the farm to make a buck. Recovery from the Great Recession seems to have skipped the countryside with only 1% of new jobs coming from rural communities. Tragically, the only statistic going up is suicide rates, which are 25 percent higher than the national average.

Will Harris, of WhiteOak Pastures, knows this reality firsthand. His ranch is in Bluffton, Georgia—population 100—one of the poorest counties in one of the poorest states in the Union. As Will likes to say, 15 years ago, all you could buy in Bluffton was a postage stamp.

There has been a total collapse of the small, family-owned farms that once predominated this part of Georgia.

“Industrial agriculture caused rural communities [like Bluffton] to be irrelevant,” says Harris. “You just didn’t need them anymore.”

Yet somehow, Harris’ 155-year old family-owned farm, is more vibrant than ever.

With 165 employees, most of whom make twice the county average wage, this burly, goateed rancher, who sounds a lot like Foghorn Leghorn, is the region’s largest employer. In fact, he’s brought so many workers back to Bluffton, that he’s had to buy and fix up many of the town’s abandoned homes just to offer them a place to live.

In 2016, he opened the first general store in 50 years, and after that a restaurant. Not only are people moving back to Bluffton for the first time since the 19th Century, but White Oak Pastures is even attracting agro-tourism. You can reserve a farm cabin on the ranch for $99 a night. 

What’s his secret?

Harris had a mindshift in 1995 when he began his self-proclaimed “Rural Renaissance.” Implementing what he calls a “radically traditional agriculture” model, Harris got rid of the petrochemical fertilizers, hormones, and feedlots he was raising his cattle on, and diversified his livestock and crops. He started using regenerative agricultural methods with a focus on “De-commoditization, De-industrialization and De-centralization.” With a passion for zero waste, and a zeal for folksy marketing, the former “commodity cowboy” has created quite the organic, regenerative Garden of Eden

Watch 100,000 Beating Hearts to learn more about Will Harris’ Story

Yet, despite all this growth, Harris is a bit pessimistic about a national rural rebirth. “I’ve gone from being an advocate and teaching classes about moving back to the farm, to saying, I just don’t know if you should consider doing this line of work.”

Before I can ask why, he points out how the deck has been stacked against young farmers. From regulations, to economics, to investment banking and politics, it’s really hard, nearly impossible for young people to enter the agricultural business today and make a decent living.

Harris says we’ve “simply given away” our meat industry to special interests and other countries without even fighting for it. “I’ll be ok,” he reiterates. “The hard part is new people entering a business that’s atrophying.”

Come on Will. There’s gotta be a silver lining. Right?

During the month of December, I’ll have more from Will—and a few others in the ever-dynamic meat industry—as I explore the growing challenges to bringing sustainable meat to the table.

Meanwhile, as you think about your holiday shopping, and what you put on the plate for your guests this year, remember that not only are you buying a delicious and environmentally responsible meat from a small business like Electric City Butcher, but you’re also buying it from someone like Will, or one of our farmers who work hard every day to make sure there is meat you can trust in the marketplace.

Each dollar you spend with folks like Will—and Loren, and Seth, and Paul, and Charlie, and Reece, and Martin, and Jim and Julie and so many others—enriches the lives of rural America, and that just may be the best holiday gift you can give this year.