Cowboy Hats Don’t Feed the Country
You can wear the hat, but that doesn’t make you a cowboy. Right now, agriculture is crawling with people who look the part, talk the part, and sell the part, but the only thing they’re actually producing is invoices. Whole careers built on extracting money from farmers and ranchers while calling it “innovation”, “insight”, “support”, “research”, “advisory”, “programmes”. And it’s always the same outcome: The people who feed the country carry the risk. Everyone else gets paid to commentate. That’s what we fight at Grow. If you spend even a little time around Grow, you’ll notice it’s intentional: we don’t endlessly platform gatekeepers and insiders, we don’t hide behind titles or institutions, we don’t make six-figure ranch decisions from a distance, and we don’t apologise for being pioneers and pushing boundaries. Not because research is useless, and not because the messy middle doesn’t matter. But because the system, as it’s currently built, too often fails the producer. A five-year replicated study on a tidy six-by-twelve plot can be interesting, sure. But you don’t run a real operation on tidy plots. You run it inside real constraints: weather, cashflow, labour, input volatility, market pressure, and the brutal reality that you only get one season to get it right. The real researchers are the producers. They’re the ones implementing in the real world. They’re the ones learning in public. They’re the ones paying for mistakes with their own money. They’re the ones adapting fast enough to stay in the game. So instead of asking, “What does the institution say?” Grow asks, “What does the operator know?” We want to hear from the producer who’s actually doing it: What worked when the year went sideways? What didn’t work, and what did it cost? What do you wish you’d done sooner? What are you changing next season, and why? Because if agriculture is going to rebuild trust, rebuild margins, and rebuild resilience, it won’t be led by people selling theories to farmers.