In August, the USDA’s 2024 Land Values Summary reported that Connecticut has the third most expensive farm real estate in the country (tied with Massachusetts) at two times the northeast average for dollars per acre.
To Chelsea Gazillo, the senior New England policy manager for American Farmland Trust, these numbers reflect a “farmland access and succession crisis” that has impacted the state for “the last 15 years at least.”
While the value of farm real estate is on the rise across the U.S., up 5% from 2023, the trendline is particularly steep in Connecticut. In Litchfield County alone, the average estimated market value of farm land and buildings rose 28% between 2017 and 2022 according to a study by the USDA National Agricultural Statistics Service (NASS).
“Connecticut is a densely populated state and farmland is in high demand from both farmers and non-farmers,” said Rebecca Eddy, director of communications at the Connecticut Department of Agriculture (DOA), citing the competing pressures of investors and developers.
Farmland values are also reflective of broader trends in the real estate market.
“We’re still seeing ripple effects from the pandemic,” said Gazillo, noting that western Connecticut became an especially desirable region for buyers looking to leave nearby metropolitan areas during lockdowns.
As high demand inflates prices and increases development pressure, Connecticut is losing farmland at a striking rate.
American Farmland Trust ranked Connecticut among the top states in the country for farmland conversion to residential and urban uses; Litchfield County alone experienced a 10.5% loss in total cropland between 2017 and 2022.
Meanwhile, U.S. farmers are getting older. In 2022, there were four times more U.S. farmers over the age of 65 than under 35.
“In the next 20 years or so, we’re going to see a massive amount of land start changing hands,” said Gazillo.
The Working Lands Alliance (WLA), a statewide coalition currently directed by Gazillo, formed in 1999 to preserve Connecticut’s farmland against the threat of transition to development.
In Connecticut, where agriculture contributes a significant $4 billion to the economy each year, maintaining farmland and supporting farmers has been a concern of the state for decades.
DOA’s Farmland Preservation Program was one of the first of its kind when it debuted in 1978. The program places agricultural conservation easements on farmland by purchasing the development rights from farmers, providing a monetary incentive for farmers to preserve their land into perpetuity.
Ella Kennen, coordinator for the New Connecticut Farmer Alliance, noted that while these easements bar development, they don’t necessarily require that “farmland is being actively used as farmland.” Nor do they directly address the challenge of first-time land access for new and BIPOC farmers.
To meet these remaining needs, DOA formed the DEI in Agriculture Working Group in 2021. Based on a report produced by the group last summer, DOA applied for and won $2.5 million through the USDA Land Capital Market Access grant which Eddy says will be employed to “increase land access to historically underserved producers.”
The grant provides hope for future change. But for many small farmers, the state policies currently in place do not go far enough to realize their dreams of farm ownership and tenure.
“It’s been simply out of the question that I could own my own farmland,” said Megan Haney, owner and operator of Marble Valley Farm in Kent. “I know of no farmer who can afford real estate based solely on what they make farming.”
Haney has grown her 14-acre sustainable vegetable operation thanks to a below-market-value lease from the Kent Land Trust. She is one of many Connecticut farmers reliant on land trusts or wealthy sponsors as alternative access models.
For the farmers who could afford to purchase their first plots, recent real estate trends may eclipse their plans to grow.
“I was fortunate to purchase my land before the crazy COVID inflation hit,” said Kelley Babbin, owner and operator of Howling Flats Farm in Canaan. “These prices make it unattainable to purchase additional pasture or hay ground.”
While land access is critical to the future of local farming, the issue does not exist in a vacuum. Gazillo noted that many solutions are compounded by other pressures.
“Litchfield County has a lot of protected land, which is both a good and a bad thing,” she said. “Affordable housing groups are saying that if we continue to put easements on properties, then there’s no land to be developed for affordable housing.”
Meanwhile, for older farmers without easements, selling one’s farmland at full market value may be the only path to retirement. “That [land] is their pension,” said Gazillo.
As the issue of farmland tenure grows more pressing and more complex, new policy initiatives hope to meet multiple needs.
WLA has proposed OPAV (Option to Purchase at Agricultural Value), a policy which would compensate farmland owners for selling only to certain farmers or family members at an “agricultural value” below market value. OPAV policies have already been implemented in Vermont, Massachusetts and New York.
OPAV’s future is yet to be determined in Connecticut. As is the future of Connecticut’s remaining farmland.
To Gazillo, the future that Connecticut can count on is one in which local farmers are vital to the community.
“One thing that we learned from the pandemic is that our national food system is very fragile,” she said. “If there are any disruptions to the supply chain, we are dependent on local producers to survive. And as we see more climate-related disasters and weather-related disasters, it’s just going to become more and more of a necessity.”
