Will good karma be enough for Good Humus?

As much as I would like my every meal to be from In-n-Out, the desire to live past 40 compels me to eat vegetables. This fall, I’ve been receiving a CSA (community support agriculture, where a customer pays a flat fee to a farm and receives a weekly supply of vegetables and fruit that varies according season and the kind of year the farm is having) from Good Humus Farm in Capay, CA. Capay is a small, unincorporated community of approximately 300 people, which lies 3 miles north and west of Esparto on CA-16. Good Humus was featured on a National Public Radio feature in a story that sought to “mak(e) connections between the food on our tables and the families that cultivate and conserve.” It is easy to see why the Center for Documentary Studies at Duke University (who produced the piece) picked Good Humus. Good Humus is a small, completely organic farm owned by its eloquent and photogenic founders, Jeff and Annie Main. Jeff and Annie met as students with a passion for sustainable agriculture at UC Davis in the 70s, bought land in rural Yolo County, and literally built their farm from the ground up. They raised their three children on the farm. They are an integral part of the Davis community, offering tours to UC Davis students and Davis elementary school students, and well as being a staple at the farmer’s market. And they grow a tasty acorn squash to boot.

After liberally enjoying Jeff and Annie’s produce all fall, I thought it was only right to attend a screening of a film about Good Humus, the Last Crop, which tells of Jeff and Annie’s efforts to preserve their farm through a specialized type of easement. A normal conservation easement creates a legally enforceable restriction on the use of the land to preserve certain characteristics. Generally, conservation easements placed on farms restrict certain types of development. While the farmer receives a tax rebate to encourage conservation, money often needs to be raised to make up the massive difference between the value of a particular piece of land if developed and the value of the land if left undeveloped. Usually a land trust or land conservancy organization provides or raises that capital.

Jeff and Annie’s easement goes a step further. They want an easement that will guarantee the land not only be removed from the risk of development, but further that their land be perpetually farmed in the same organic, sustainable way it is currently in use. This requires creating a trust to raise money to make the land affordable for a farmer to buy. Because their 20 acres would be worth $400,000 if sold for development but only yield $100,000 if used for agriculture, they need to raise the difference of $300,000. Therefore, a farmer can come along and buy the farm after the Mains retire for $100,000 and the Main’s trust will pay the remaining money. Since conservation easements “run with the land,” any subsequent purchaser of Good Humus will be bound to farm it. Jeff and Annie have partnered with Equity Trust, a land trust in Massachusetts, and Yolo Land Trust in Woodland, CA to raise the money and complete the easement.

This specific type of conservation easement is called an agricultural easement and is growing in visibility and popularity. For the first time in 2008, the Farm Bill included increased tax benefits for agricultural easements along with the tax benefits for conventional conservation easements. Land conservancies specializing in agricultural easements have sprung up in 15 states. The American Farmland Institute published a five-part study, gauging the direction and effectiveness of agricultural easements. Among their ultimate findings was that:

Easements effectively help to redirect or influence urban growth in about a half dozen of the communities served by sample programs, working largely in conjunction with local government planning policies, zoning and other land use regulations, and service delivery limitations.

However, the AFI also found that:

Most sample programs are not prepared for the long-term job of protecting the continued viability of their holdings and preventing or responding to problems of noncompliance with easement restrictions. They have not put sufficient resources into stewardship activities, as seen in inconsistent and incomplete efforts to periodically monitor the conditions of easement properties.

It’s easy to see the appeal of agricultural easements. Given the special place the small family farm has in the collective conscience of this country, protecting a small, visible piece of Americana in a patchwork fashion can make people “feel good” without asking for the significant sacrifice (in the probable form of higher land and food prices) that a full scale de-collectivization/industrialization of agriculture might require. The Mains hit all the right points in the film. Jeff speaks in an earthy voice about a deep connection to the land he has made fertile for over 20 years and chokes up in a paradoxically rugged way when considering having to pass his land on. Annie speaks about the need to assure their own personal values of sustainability and community involvement are not compromised when they sell their land. However, I wonder if this idea can work on the larger scale. Most family farms are not owned by people as articulate and media-savvy as the Mains. Most family farms are nowhere near as connected to the community as Good Humus. Most family farms are not located so close to an area such as Davis, full of Marin County ex-pats with deep pockets and a taste for all things organic, sustainable, and “green.” The family farm is certainly in trouble. Good Humus might be one of the few lucky ones with a way out.

Jeff and Annie Mains with a visitor on their farm.
(photo courtesy Davis Farm-to-School Connection)