Beyond the Headlines: What 315 Farm Bankruptcies Really Mean
Farm bankruptcies are rising. That's true. But before anyone hits the panic button, let's put these numbers in perspective and have the honest conversation that agriculture needs right now.
Last week I wrote an article about rising farm bankruptcies in the Upper Plains. It generated a lot of discussion. Some readers agreed. Others pushed back hard. A few aimed their criticism squarely at people and companies in my profession.
Good. I welcome the conversation. But I'll be honest, some of those comments made me wonder: did the person actually read the article, or just the headline?
Because there's a difference between thoughtful disagreement and being a keyboard warrior who sees a topic, fires off a zinger, and moves on feeling clever. We've all seen it. Someone takes a shot at a company, a profession, a politician, or an individual, not because they have a real point to make, but because it feels good in the moment. They think they're being funny or edgy. Most of the time they're just adding noise to a conversation that deserves better.
That kind of thing doesn't help farmers. It doesn't help landowners. And honestly, it's a symptom of something bigger that's wrong with how we talk to each other these days.
Now, having said that, let me climb down off my high horse. Because mixed in with the noise were some comments that raised real questions and real frustrations. Those deserve a real response.
So let's get into it.
Let's Start with the Number Everyone Is Talking About
That's the total number of Chapter 12 farm bankruptcies filed across the entire United States in 2025. The headlines made it sound like agriculture was on the brink of collapse.
The math tells a different story.
According to the USDA's most recent Census of Agriculture, there are approximately 1.9 million farms in this country. That means 315 Chapter 12 filings represent roughly 0.016% of all farms.
One commenter on our last article put it simply: "315 total filings for the whole country, I personally think is nothing to get excited about." He raises a fair point.
When you go from 216 filings to 315, the percentage increase is 46%. That sounds alarming until you realize the base number is incredibly small. If your town had two car accidents last year and three this year, that's a 50% increase. It's also one more car accident.
Does the trend deserve attention? Absolutely. Every one of those 315 filings represents a family going through tremendous financial stress, and I would never minimize that.
But is American agriculture collapsing? No. The overwhelming majority of farms in this country are still operating. Farmers are still planting, still harvesting, still managing risk, and still adapting to difficult markets the way they always have.
The headlines tell one story. The math tells another. Both deserve your attention.
What We're Actually Seeing in the Upper Plains
Here in North Dakota, South Dakota, and western Minnesota, most agricultural operations still carry significant equity. Land values remain historically strong, and many producers own substantial portions of their land base.
What a lot of operations are dealing with right now isn't a solvency crisis. It's a cash flow challenge.
Commodity prices have softened. Input costs are stubbornly high. Interest rates have climbed. Machinery costs have gone through the roof. Working capital that was built during stronger years has been chipped away after several seasons of compressed margins.
The financial stress is real. I'm not going to sugarcoat that. Many operators feel genuinely squeezed between higher costs and thinner returns, and when cash rents stay strong during these periods, the frustration is completely understandable.
I hear those concerns. And I want to address them directly.
The Elephant in the Room: Land Prices and Cash Rent
Our previous article drew some pointed comments about land management companies, auction firms, and cash rents. Some of those comments were aimed directly at Pifer's.
The criticism generally sounds something like this: "Land management companies and auction firms drive up rents and land values, making it harder for farmers to survive."
I understand why someone writing the rent check feels that way. When you're trying to hold onto acres you've farmed for years and someone else comes in with a higher offer, it stings. When the cost of renting ground goes up while your commodity prices go down, it feels like the system is working against you.
I'm not going to pretend that frustration isn't real. It is.
But there's another side of this conversation that rarely gets the attention it deserves.
The Side of the Story We Don't Hear Enough
Here's something a lot of people in agriculture don't think about or maybe don't want to think about: most landowners are not wealthy investors sitting in corporate offices.
Many of the landowners we work with are widows living on fixed incomes. They're retired farmers who spent their best years building something and now depend on rental income to fund their retirement. They're schoolteachers, nurses, and small business owners who inherited a quarter section from their parents and are trying to manage it responsibly. For some families, that farmland is the single largest asset they will ever own.
When those landowners ask for help getting fair market rent, they aren't being greedy. They're doing what any of us would do with our most valuable asset.
If someone owns a rental home, nobody expects them to charge below market rent indefinitely. If someone sells a vehicle, nobody suggests they should accept less than it's worth because the buyer is a neighbor. Yet in agriculture, there's often an unspoken expectation that landowners should intentionally accept below market returns on the most significant asset they own.
I understand the emotion behind that expectation. But it's a standard we rarely apply anywhere else in life, and it isn't fair to the landowners who depend on that income.
What Professional Land Management Actually Does
From the inside of this business, I can tell you that professional land management is not about squeezing every possible dollar out of a tenant. Anyone who runs their business that way won't be in business very long.
The goal is to build long-term relationships that work for both sides.
A landowner deserves fair returns. A farmer deserves sustainable lease terms. A rent level that pushes a farmer out of business doesn't help anyone, including the landowner who then must find a new tenant in a potentially worse market.
The best lease relationships I've seen over 25 years all have the same things in common: the landowner receives fair value, the farmer can operate profitably, communication is open, expectations are clear, and both sides trust each other. Those relationships often last decades. Some of them outlast the original parties and carry on to the next generation.
Is every situation perfect? Of course not. There are times when markets shift, expectations differ, or a relationship simply doesn't work out. That's true in every business.
But most of the time, a well-managed lease creates a partnership that benefits both the landowner and the farmer. We take pride in matching land with operators who take care of the ground, honor their commitments, and treat the relationship with respect. And most of them do exactly that.
The Good Old Days Had Their Problems Too
There's a real nostalgia in agriculture for how things used to work. The retired farmer walks next door, shakes hands with the neighbor kid, and offers him the ground at a fair price. Everything stays personal. Everything stays local.
That absolutely happened. In some communities, it still does.
But let's be honest: the past wasn't perfect either.
We've all heard the stories. The elderly landowner who received below market rent for years because nobody told her what her ground was actually worth. The tenant who let the soil fertility run down because it wasn't his land and he figured nobody was checking. The handshake deal that seemed great until the two families ended up in a dispute that lasted a generation because nothing was ever put in writing.
Unscrupulous people have always existed on both sides of a lease. That's nothing new. What is new is that today's market is more transparent, more accessible, and more competitive than it has ever been.
With a click of a button, anyone can see what land is selling for, what comparable rents look like, and what opportunities exist. That changes the dynamic. It means the neighbor kid isn't guaranteed the lease just because he lives next door. I understand why that feels like a loss to some people.
But transparency also means landowners understand what their property is worth. It means farmers can make informed decisions about what they can realistically afford. It means both sides have better information than at any point in the history of American agriculture.
More information isn't the enemy. It's just different from what we grew up with.
The Question Nobody Wants to Ask
Here's the uncomfortable truth at the center of this whole conversation.
When someone says "land management companies are driving up rents," what they often mean is "I wish I could rent this ground for less than someone else is willing to pay."
I understand that feeling. I genuinely do.
But the farmer who offered more may not know the numbers the way you do. Maybe they're more optimistic about where prices are headed. Maybe their operation has different efficiencies. Or maybe, honestly, they're stretching further than they should. Time will tell. Hopefully they've made a sound business decision based on what they can actually produce on that ground, but not every high bid ages well.
The landowner accepting that offer isn't doing anything wrong either. They're seeking fair value for their asset, and they can't possibly know the inner workings of every operator's balance sheet. They're making the best decision they can with the information in front of them.
Does that make losing a lease any easier? Not really. But here's something worth considering.
Instead of burning a bridge, try a graceful exit. A simple, pleasant acknowledgment that the numbers don't work for your operation right now goes a long way. Something like: "I appreciate the opportunity. The rent level doesn't pencil out for me this year, but if things change down the road, I'd love the chance to revisit the conversation."
You'd be amazed how often that door opens back up. High bids don't always hold. Situations change. And when a landowner or land manager is looking for their next tenant, they remember the person who handled it with class.
Because here's something I can tell you with confidence after 25 years in this business: price is not the only thing landowners care about.
Many of the landowners we work with will choose a slightly lower offer from a farmer they trust over a higher offer from someone they don't know. Stewardship matters. Communication matters. Character matters. Relationships still carry real weight.
They just exist alongside market forces now, not instead of them.
We've Been Here Before
I've been in this business for 25 years. I grew up on a farm. I've watched agriculture go through cycles that felt like the end of the world at the time, and every single time, the people in this industry found a way through.
That doesn't mean it's easy. It's not. Tight margins and sleepless nights are no fun, and anyone who tells you otherwise hasn't lived it.
But I've noticed something over the years. The operations that come out the other side of tough stretches tend to have a few things in common. They know their numbers cold. Not just the top line, but the real cost of production, the break-evens, the working capital picture. They keep the lines of communication open with their landlords and their lenders, even when the news isn't great, because silence tends to make things worse, not better. And they're willing to get creative with lease structures, marketing plans, and operational adjustments when the old playbook isn't working.
None of that is revolutionary. Most of you already know it. But sometimes in the middle of a tough stretch, it helps to hear someone say: you're not the first person to go through this, and the people who came before you made it work.
Farming has always been cyclical. The good years feel like they'll last forever. The tough ones feel the same way. Neither one does.
Putting It All Together
Farm bankruptcies are rising. That trend deserves attention, not dismissal.
But the numbers remain extraordinarily small relative to the nearly two million farms operating across this country. The narrative that agriculture is collapsing doesn't match what the data actually shows.
Financial stress is real. Margins are tighter. Working capital has declined for some operations. But most farms in the Upper Plains still hold significant equity and strong asset positions. The challenge today is cash flow, not solvency, and that is a fundamentally different situation than what the 1980s brought.
Land values and cash rents are set by markets, not by any single company, broker, or land manager. Those markets are more transparent and competitive than they've ever been. That creates challenges for some and opportunities for others.
Landowners and farmers need each other. This conversation isn't about picking sides. It's about recognizing that both perspectives are valid, both parties deserve fair treatment, and the future of agriculture depends on both succeeding.
Agriculture has always been recurrent. We've navigated difficult periods before, and we'll navigate this one too. The operations that come out the other side in the best position will be the ones that looked at their situation clearly, communicated openly, and took action while they still had choices.
Not everyone will agree with every point in this article. That's perfectly fine. But if this conversation encourages even one family to sit down, look at their numbers, and start building a plan, then it was worth writing.
And if you're feeling the weight of any of this, reach out. Talk to someone. There are people in your corner who want to help.
That's what we're here for.
Author Bio: Steve Link is a broker with Pifer's Auction & Realty specializing in farm, ranch, and recreational land throughout the Upper Midwest. Raised on a farm near Milan, Minnesota, Steve earned a degree in Natural Resource Management from North Dakota State University. With more than 25 years of experience in land sales, auctions, and land management, he works with landowners, investors, and agricultural operators to help them make informed decisions regarding one of their most valuable assets: land.