Midwest Farmers Squeezed From All Sides

For more than a century, the Midwest has been described as America’s breadbasket. Corn, soybeans, wheat, and livestock from these states don’t just feed the country—they help feed the world. Yet in 2025, the region’s farmers are facing one of the most punishing sets of challenges in living memory. Climate extremes, global trade disputes, and mounting costs are converging to squeeze family farms like never before.

One pressure comes from international markets. Soybeans, long a cornerstone of Midwest agriculture, have been particularly vulnerable. China used to be the single largest buyer of American beans, importing tens of millions of tons annually. But tariff battles beginning in 2018 cut deeply into that demand, and while some trade routes have reopened, they have not returned to their former strength. The U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) estimates that American soybean exports to China are still down more than 20% compared to pre-tariff levels, leaving producers in Iowa, Illinois, and Indiana searching for alternative buyers.

Corn growers have been whipsawed as well. While biofuel demand provides a steady outlet, weather volatility has caused wide swings in production. The USDA’s 2023 Climate and Agriculture report noted that the Midwest saw both extreme droughts and historic rainfall within the same growing seasons, stressing crops at critical points. For farmers who live and die by timing, these swings mean that a healthy-looking field in June can still be a loss by harvest if weather turns harsh.

On top of trade and weather, the cost of doing business has climbed sharply. Fertilizer prices, which spiked in 2022 due to global energy shortages, have moderated but remain higher than their long-term averages. Diesel prices are still elevated, cutting into margins on fuel-intensive operations. According to Purdue University’s Ag Economy Barometer, more than 60% of surveyed farmers said input costs remain their top concern—outranking both commodity prices and interest rates.

Taken together, these forces leave little room for error. Farm incomes that once depended on reliable yields and stable markets now swing widely from year to year. Government payments, often meant to cushion the blows, help in the short run but rarely cover long-term losses. For family operations already running thin, the result is mounting debt and an uneasy future.

Washington has not ignored the growing pain in the Midwest. Over the last five years, billions in subsidies and relief packages have been distributed to farmers caught in the crossfire of tariffs, weather disasters, and volatile markets. According to the Congressional Research Service direct government payments to producers exceeded $20 billion in 2023 alone, with much of it tied to disaster aid and tariff compensation.

At first glance, that level of support looks like a lifeline. But dig deeper, and the cracks show. Subsidies often arrive months after losses occur, too late to cover immediate expenses like seed, fertilizer, or loan payments. The structure of these payments also tends to favor larger operations that can absorb volatility long enough to file and collect, leaving smaller family farms at greater risk. The USDA’s 2022 Farm Household Income Survey found that the majority of U.S. farm households now rely on off-farm income to stay afloat—an indicator that subsidies aren’t enough to sustain them on agriculture alone.

Another challenge lies in the nature of tariff relief itself. Compensation checks replace lost income temporarily, but they do nothing to restore relationships with overseas buyers. Once importers in China, Southeast Asia, or Europe retool their supply chains, they are slow to return to American producers, even if tariffs ease. Trade economists at the American Farm Bureau Federation have warned that the U.S. may have permanently lost portions of its soybean export market to Brazil, which has seized the opportunity to expand acreage and infrastructure.

Beyond trade, climate policy has also been uneven. Conservation programs administered by the Natural Resources Conservation Service (NRCS), such as EQIP and CSP, provide funding for practices like cover crops, precision nutrient management, and water retention. These programs have expanded, but demand still outstrips supply—farmers often wait years for approval. And while they help build resilience, they don’t shield producers from the sharp, short-term swings in weather that now define many growing seasons.

Meanwhile, debt loads are creeping higher. Data from the Federal Reserve Bank of Kansas City (Q2 2025 Ag Credit Survey) shows farm loan demand rising for the fourth straight quarter, with operating loan sizes reaching record highs. Interest rates, while stabilizing, remain elevated compared to the ultra-low era of the 2010s. That means borrowing to survive another season has never been more expensive.

All of this underscores a simple point: subsidies and aid packages may prevent collapse in the moment, but they don’t chart a path toward stability. For many farmers, survival feels contingent on external lifelines rather than the strength of their land or labor—a reversal of the independence and resilience that has long defined the Midwest farm identity.

When farm economics falter, the damage extends far beyond the fencerows. In rural towns across the Midwest, every farm that downsizes or disappears sends ripples through the community. Feed suppliers, equipment dealers, grain elevators, and local banks all rely on steady farm business. Schools lose enrollment as young families move away. Churches, co-ops, and civic groups see shrinking participation. What looks like a spreadsheet problem at the national level becomes a hollowed-out main street at the local one.

Consolidation accelerates the process. Larger operators, better able to shoulder volatility, often buy up acreage when smaller farms exit. While this keeps land in production, it reduces the number of independent producers and concentrates decision-making power in fewer hands. A 2024 report from the National Agricultural Statistics Service (NASS) noted that farms over 2,000 acres now control more than half of U.S. cropland, a sharp rise from just a decade ago. For many small-town residents, that shift raises uncomfortable questions about who farming is for—and whether local voices still matter.

The human toll is equally significant. Farming has always been stressful, but the weight of unpredictable markets, climate shocks, and financial uncertainty has driven mental health concerns into sharper focus. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) has identified farming as one of the occupations with higher-than-average suicide rates. Surveys conducted by the American Farm Bureau Federation in 2023 found that 52% of rural adults and 61% of farmers believe conditions in agriculture directly impact their mental health, with stress from finances and weather cited as top drivers. Yet in many counties, access to mental health services is scarce, and cultural stigma remains high.

Generational turnover is another flashpoint. With the average American farmer nearing 58 years old, questions of succession loom large. Young people raised on farms often see the strain their parents face and hesitate to step in. For those who do, the barriers are steep: high land prices, heavy capital requirements, and the uncertainty of markets shaped by geopolitics and climate. The USDA’s 2022 Tenure, Ownership, and Transition of Agricultural Land survey estimated that 40% of U.S. farmland is expected to change hands over the next 20 years, but much of that land may not remain in independent family operations.

What does this mean for U.S. food security? In the near term, the system is still robust. The Midwest continues to produce massive volumes of grain and livestock, keeping exports strong and grocery shelves full. But in the long term, reliance on fewer, larger operators—and the ongoing loss of mid-sized family farms—creates fragility. Fewer players mean fewer buffers when shocks occur, whether from global trade disputes, extreme weather events, or geopolitical conflict.

For policymakers, the lesson is clear: subsidies and short-term relief cannot substitute for durable solutions. That means trade agreements that restore reliable export markets, investments in climate-resilient infrastructure, and policies that make it feasible for the next generation to step into farming without crippling debt. For farmers themselves, the path forward may rest in diversification, cooperative models, and technology adoption—but none of these can flourish without a system that reduces volatility at its core.

Until then, Midwest farmers will continue to live under pressure, balancing resilience against exhaustion. Their story is not just about economics. It is about the endurance of communities, the stewardship of land, and the fight to keep America’s breadbasket from buckling under the weight of forces beyond its control.