(DCNF)—I have to admit that I laughed out loud – almost spewing coffee on my keyboard – Friday morning when I read this headline from a competing platform’s energy-related newsletter: “SOLAR DOESN’T USE MUCH FARMLAND: Solar occupies less than 1% of farmland in the U.S., according to the Solar Energy Industries Association.”
To paraphrase from former President Bill Clinton’s grand jury testimony, that depends on what the meaning of “much” is. Curious about the subject, I decided to research the question, accessing a wealth of public information easily available to anyone, including those in the solar industry. The answer I found might surprise the folks at the Solar Energy Industries Association. Or maybe it wouldn’t, which might explain why they choose to couch the answer in such a misleading way.
The salient question: How many acres make up 1% of U.S. farmlands?
The easily discovered answer: Approximately 8.74 million acres (using the latest 2025 figure of ~874 million acres total), according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture.
According to the USDA’s most recent data, the 2025 total land in farms is 873.95 million acres (down slightly from prior years). Earlier years were a bit higher (e.g., ~900 million in 2017), but the total has been gradually declining. One percent of 873.95 million acres = 8.74 million acres.
Farmland here generally refers to “land in farms” per USDA definitions (including cropland, pasture, woodland, etc., on farms). Figures can vary slightly by source or definition (e.g., cropland-only vs. all agricultural land), but the ~874 million acre range is the standard benchmark from official USDA reports.
Now, for some context. The King Ranch in South Texas is arguably the largest and most celebrated big farming and ranching operation in U.S. history. Established in 1854 by pioneering rancher Richard King, the ranch at its peak consisted of 1.2 million acres.
Thus, the solar power industry itself admits that its wind arrays currently occupy an area of fertile farmlands that is roughly 8 times the size of the biggest farming and ranching operation in United States history. That is a stunning number, yet the authors of that referenced newsletter characterize it as being “not much.”
Being a guy who grew up in a farming and ranching family, that sure seems like “much” to me. It also most likely seems like “much” to experts whose own studies find that placing solar arrays atop farmlands robs the land of crucial nutrients and renders it more vulnerable to erosion. Disturbingly, unless radical changes are quickly made, the industry plans to cover up many more King Ranch-sized swaths of fertile land in the coming years.
A 2024 report by the Institute for Energy Research finds that, despite these warnings by experts in the field, the vast majority of new solar projects are targeting farmland to house their industrial projects in the coming years. “The target for solar operations is increasingly in the Midwest, where government handouts to solar allow them to pay more to rent land than the farmers providing food for the nation,” the report says, adding, “Farmland preservation groups believe 83 percent of new solar installations will come from farm and ranch lands with half of these installations on the richest land for food and crops.”
Fortunately, the big federal subsidies which drove the recent huge solar expansion are scheduled to begin expiring in July. But with hundreds of new solar projects already in the queue, millions more acres of fertile farmlands will be removed from the food system in the years to come even as a fertilizer shortage threatens to disrupt global food supplies. All to create unreliable, unpredictable, intermittent electricity for a few hours a day that could be provided by an array of more reliable power sources which occupy a fraction of the land, none of which intentionally target farmlands as their homes.
It’s a completely irrational misallocation of hundreds of billions of dollars in capital brought to us directly by the Biden autopen presidency and its Orwellian Inflation Reduction Act. You could never make this stuff up if it weren’t already happening before your very eyes. Watch it and weep.
David Blackmon is an energy writer and consultant based in Texas. He spent 40 years in the oil and gas business, where he specialized in public policy and communications.
The views and opinions expressed in this commentary are those of the author and do not reflect the official position of the Daily Caller News Foundation.
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Two Storms, One Harvest
Every food crisis in living memory has been a one-shock event. The 2008 price spike was a commodity bubble. The 2020 shortages were a logistics failure. The 2022 grain scare was a war on one exporter’s ports. Each time, the system bent, adjusted, and recovered, and each time the experts assured us afterward that global markets are simply too big and too diversified to fail.
What nobody in Washington seems eager to discuss is that 2026 is shaping up to be something the modern food system has never actually faced. Two independent shocks, one climatic and one geopolitical, are converging on the same harvest cycle at the same time. Not sequentially. Simultaneously.
Start with the weather. The Pacific Ocean is currently building toward what forecasters now openly call a record event. NOAA’s Climate Prediction Center puts the odds of at least a strong El Niño near 88 percent, with roughly two in three odds it reaches “very strong” status, the tier reserved for perhaps three or four events in the entire satellite era. Every major global model now projects a median peak in Super El Niño territory, and most of them project it exceeding the 2015-16 event, which until now held the modern record. Sea surface anomalies were already brushing the super threshold in mid-July, months before these events normally peak. The atmosphere has already shifted into El Niño mode, and the event is forecast to crest in late fall and early winter.
This is not about “climate change.” It’s about the standard cycles of weather, and the cycle we’re currently in is one that has likely devastated societies in the past. We’re better prepared as a society today, but not all Americans are equally prepared.
Serious households have started doing the quiet math on their own. Grocery bills tell part of the story, and the forecast maps tell the rest, which is why long-term food storage has moved from fringe hobby to mainstream line item in the family budget, with established suppliers like Heaven’s Harvest seeing demand from people who five years ago would have rolled their eyes at the idea. That instinct is not paranoia. It is pattern recognition, and the pattern is worth walking through carefully.
Editor’s Note: Heaven’s Harvest IS a sponsor, but the warnings of this article are real and would be written even if we didn’t have a survival food sponsor. With that said, those who take advantage of what they offer can use promo code “Patriot” for 15% off.
The Fertilizer Clock Is Already Running
While the Pacific warms, the second shock has been unfolding in the Strait of Hormuz. The conflict with Iran turned the world’s most important energy chokepoint into a contested waterway, and the consequences reach far beyond the gas pump. Roughly a third of global fertilizer trade moves through Hormuz, and the disruption sent urea prices up 86 percent year over year by March, with a 53 percent jump in a single month.
The World Bank projects energy prices rising about 24 percent in 2026 and fertilizer about 31 percent. By its own accounting, fertilizer prices ran 35 percent higher in the first five months of this year than the same period last year.
Here is the mechanism the nightly news will not explain. Fertilizer is not a grocery item. It is a time-delayed input. The nitrogen a farmer in Iowa or Punjab could not afford to apply this spring does not show up as a problem this spring. It shows up as a thinner harvest six to twelve months later.
The World Bank’s own food security brief concedes that the effects of reduced applications earlier this season “are likely to become visible only later in harvest outcomes.” Translate that from institutional language into plain English and it means this. The damage is already done, it is already in the ground, and we are simply waiting for it to arrive on the shelf.
Now check the calendar. Six to twelve months from the spring planting season lands us squarely in late 2026 and early 2027. Which is precisely when the strongest El Niño in the instrumental record is forecast to peak, bringing its signature droughts to Southeast Asia, Australia, southern Africa, northern Brazil, and South Asia, the very regions that grow the world’s rice, sugar, and oilseeds.
The World Bank warns openly that a strong El Niño “could disrupt multiple crop belts simultaneously” on top of the conflict-driven input costs. Their baseline projection assumes the Middle East disruptions ease by autumn. What in the last two years of Middle East history suggests that assumption is safe?
The System Has No Slack Left
The comfortable answer is that global markets always adjust. But adjustment requires slack, and the slack is gone. Global cereal production is expected to decline from last year’s records even before El Niño does its work. The UN World Food Programme, hardly a den of right-wing preppers, is calling this the most significant disruption to its supply chains since Covid and the invasion of Ukraine, and its supply chain director put the stakes bluntly.
Today’s supply chain challenges are tomorrow’s hunger crisis.
There is also a political dimension that markets cannot price. When food gets scarce, governments do not behave like economists. They behave like politicians. Export bans, hoarding mandates, and panic buying at the national level turned the modest rice shortfall of 2008 into a global crisis, and analysts are already warning that import-dependent nations are the first dominoes.
The 2015-16 Super El Niño, a far weaker event than what is now forecast, threw tens of millions into food stress across Africa and Asia. This one is projected to be stronger, and it arrives with fertilizer already rationed by price and shipping lanes already contested by missiles.
What Joseph Knew
Scripture does not treat preparation for lean years as faithlessness. It treats it as wisdom delivered in advance to those willing to act on it.
Behold, there come seven years of great plenty throughout all the land of Egypt: And there shall arise after them seven years of famine; and all the plenty shall be forgotten in the land of Egypt.
Joseph did not respond to that warning with a hashtag or a committee. He stored grain during the years of abundance, and when the famine came, Egypt stood while its neighbors begged. The lesson is not that famine is certain. It is that the time to prepare is precisely when preparation still looks optional.
Nobody who filled a pantry in a year of plenty has ever regretted it, and nobody standing in an empty aisle has ever been glad he waited for certainty.
None of this calls for panic, and panic is the enemy of sound judgment anyway. It calls for the same unglamorous prudence our grandparents considered ordinary. Keep some cash margin, know your local growers, and put real food in deep storage while it is cheap and available, because the entire arc of this story is that cheap and available is a closing window.
Families looking for a straightforward place to start can visit Heaven’s Harvest and use promo code Patriot for 15 percent off long-term storable food. The forecasts may yet soften, the strait may yet reopen, and we should pray they do. But hope is a fine thing to hold and a foolish thing to eat.