The sun is setting on small farms in America. And Jackie Allen can feel it. For 40 years, "Jackrabbit" has summoned food from fertile ground across 200 acres in south-central Kentucky. He’s even made a good living from it at times. “I’m as good as any farmer,” he’ll say. But as American farming trends continue toward large-scale operations, small-scale farms like Jackie Allen’s are faced with one of two options: adapt, or be gobbled up. In this trend toward “farmland consolidation,” smaller farms are purchased by larger ones where mono-crops become king. Corn or soybeans are folded perfectly into the soil over thousands of acres, and the operation is managed by a single landowner wielding the most advanced farming equipment and employing only critical personnel. For Jackie Allen and his modest 200 acres, keeping pace with this new way of farming feels like pining for daylight in the eleventh hour. “When one person’s gotta do as much as I’ve gotta do, there just ain’t enough hours in the day to do it all,” Allen said. “Nowadays, they’ve got great big equipment so they can do it so much faster. But I ain’t got no help.” There’s an irony to this tension. The world has never needed American farmers as it needs them today. Demand is high. According to a 2019 study published by Share America, American farms are exporting more products than ever before in the history of U.S. agriculture. And that demand is expected to grow 60 percent by 2050. So why isn’t the future bright for a seasoned farmer like Jackie Allen? The full story is complex, but the competitive disadvantage levied by economies of scale, combined with a long history of government incentives that favor larger farms, is a good place to start. Then there’s climate change. Extreme weather can devastate small farms. As we walked together on a hot July afternoon, Mr. Allen pointed to a low area he’d recently finished preparing for planting. It was the only stretch on his land without crops already bursting out of the ground. “Last year,” Allen said, “these 15 acres had corn. Flash floods took all of it. I lost every bit. I've been on this farm for 40 years and I’ve never lost a crop in July and August. So I’m planting late this year.” Allen took a long drink of a Busch Light, then sighed. “Our world ain't the same no more.” Despite these challenges, Jackie Allen is determined to keep moving forward. In addition to farming, he’s diversifying – earning money here and there by breaking horses for Kentucky’s wealthier farmers. It's the one in road he has with the state's agricultural elite, whose mega farms will inevitably put him out of business. “You got to love it to do it,” Allen told me. "Cause there ain’t no future in it. No money in it. You gotta like doing it. And I like it.”