The U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) has taken a sharp turn under its new Secretary, Brooke Rollins, marking a significant departure from the climate-centric policies that defined the Biden administration’s agricultural agenda. For years, farmers watched as the USDA, under previous leadership, leaned heavily into initiatives tied to the “Green New Deal,” a framework that promised sweeping environmental reforms but often left rural communities scratching their heads. Now, with Rollins at the helm, the agency is signaling a pivot—one that prioritizes the bread-and-butter needs of American agriculture over what some see as ideological experiments. It’s a shift that’s been met with both relief and skepticism, as initial delays in promised payments have rattled growers, even while the USDA insists it will honor its commitments.
When Rollins stepped into her role in February 2025, she inherited a mess of frozen funds and stalled programs. The Biden-era Inflation Reduction Act had channeled billions into conservation efforts, some of which farmers had already banked on—think contracts for cover crops or water systems to keep cattle alive during droughts. But the Trump administration’s early moves to freeze federal spending threw a wrench into those plans, leaving ranchers and row-crop producers in limbo. Social media lit up with stories like that of a Missouri cattleman who’d signed a $240,000 deal with the USDA’s Natural Resources Conservation Service, only to find the money wasn’t coming when expected. The National Farmers Union chimed in, warning that the uncertainty was piling onto an already brutal economic squeeze in rural America. Yet, Rollins has been quick to reassure the heartland. In her first major address at Commodity Classic in Denver on March 3, 2025, she announced that the USDA had completed its review of those funds, releasing $20 million for programs like the Environmental Quality Incentive Program and the Conservation Stewardship Program. “We will honor our commitments to American farmers and ranchers,” she said, framing it as a sacred duty to taxpayers and growers alike.
That promise, though, comes with a catch: the USDA’s new direction isn’t about doubling down on the old playbook. Gone are the days of what Rollins has called “extreme environmental programs” that dotted farmland with wind turbines and solar arrays—installations that many farmers saw as eating up productive acres for questionable returns. The Green New Deal’s hyper-focus on slashing CO2 emissions rubbed plenty of growers the wrong way, especially since carbon dioxide isn’t just some bogeyman in agriculture; it’s a natural fertilizer. Science backs this up—higher CO2 levels can goose crop yields, with studies showing boosts of 10-15% for staples like wheat and soybeans under elevated conditions. For farmers already stretched thin by tight margins, the idea of choking off a free yield enhancer to chase climate goals felt like a bad trade. Rollins seems to get that. “Our job is to make American agriculture the most competitive in the world,” she’s said, not to turn prime farmland into a testing ground for renewable energy dreams.
This isn’t just a tweak in policy—it’s a rejection of what some saw as leftist, globalist politics creeping into the USDA’s mission. Under Biden, the agency leaned into buzzwords like “climate-smart agriculture,” pushing wind and solar as if they were the future of rural prosperity. But for every turbine spinning in Iowa, there were growers in Kansas grumbling about lost planting space or maintenance costs they couldn’t shoulder. Rollins, a Trump appointee with roots in Texas farm country, is steering the wheel back toward a vision that puts food production first. It’s about ensuring America’s agricultural future, she argues—feeding the nation and the world, not bowing to international climate agendas that don’t always align with the realities of a 1,000-acre corn operation.
Compare that to what’s unfolding across the Atlantic, and the contrast couldn’t be starker. In the European Union and United Kingdom, farmers are caught in a vise of green mandates and trade upheaval. The EU’s Farm to Fork strategy, part of its own Green Deal, demands a 50% cut in pesticide use and a massive shift to organic farming by 2030—noble goals, maybe, but ones that have sparked protests from Dutch tractor convoys to French vineyards. Yields are dropping, costs are spiking, and small operators are getting crushed. The UK, post-Brexit, is wrestling with its own net-zero targets, layering on subsidies for rewilding that pull land out of production just as food security wobbles. And now, with Trump’s tariffs looming—think 10-20% on imports from Canada, Mexico, and beyond—European farmers face a double whammy: shrinking markets and tighter budgets. America’s growers, by contrast, have a USDA that’s promising to ditch the dogma and focus on keeping them afloat, not paying farmers to rewild land while imports flood in from less-regulated corners of the globe. It’s a slow-motion squeeze—productivity takes a backseat to optics, and the folks who grow the food are left holding the bag. American farmers, watching this unfold, have reason to feel uneasy about any policy that smells like it’s cribbed from Brussels or Westminster. Rollins’ USDA is betting that a different path—doubling down on what works rather than chasing utopian benchmarks—can keep U.S. agriculture from a similar fate.
Those aforementioned tariffs, though, are where Rollins’ real test begins. Trump’s trade war redux could slam U.S. agriculture hard—retaliatory duties from China alone cost farmers billions last time around, with soybean exports tanking after Beijing slapped on 25% tariffs in 2018. Today, the U.S. is the world’s top food exporter, shipping out $175 billion in goods last year, from corn to pork. If Canada and Mexico hit back, or if the EU doubles down on its own barriers, growers here could see prices plummet and surpluses pile up. Rollins has vowed to “be at the table fighting” for rural communities, but that’s easier said than done. She’ll need to navigate a realignment of global trade while keeping American ag competitive—no small feat when your boss is the guy pulling the tariff trigger. But the road ahead isn’t all smooth plowing. Soybean and pork exporters, already battered by trade wars past, are bracing for retaliation from China and others. A Kansas State University report pegged potential losses at $1.2 billion for Midwest growers if export markets shrink again. That puts Rollins in a tight spot—her pro-farmer agenda has to deliver not just domestically, but globally, keeping American ag competitive when borders get prickly. She’s hinted at leaning harder into trade negotiations and boosting domestic demand—think ethanol mandates or school lunch programs flush with U.S.-grown beef and beans. It’s a tall order, and skeptics wonder if the USDA can pivot fast enough to cushion the blow.
For farmers, this pivot feels like a lifeline after years of feeling sidelined. The USDA’s new Emergency Commodity Assistance Program, or E-CAP, aims to pump $10 billion into the ag economy by late March, targeting row-crop producers hit hardest by a century-worst downturn. It’s not about slapping solar panels on barns—it’s about cash in hand to plant the next season. Rollins isn’t pretending the feds can fix it all; she’s called for an “all approach” to revive rural America, leaning on private ingenuity as much as public support. Whether she can thread the needle—honoring old promises, dodging tariff fallout, and putting farmers first—remains to be seen. But for now, the message from Washington is clear: the USDA’s done chasing windmills. It’s time to get back to growing food. For now, Rollins is steering with a steady hand, framing this realignment as a return to first principles. “The USDA exists to support the people who feed us,” she told a crowd of Nebraska corn growers last week, “not to turn their fields into science projects.” It’s a message that resonates in the “flyover states,” where the sight of a solar panel on prime soil never sat right. Whether she can navigate the tariff storms and rebuild trust after those early payment hiccups will define her tenure. Farmers, a notoriously pragmatic bunch, aren’t asking for miracles—just a government that gets out of the way and lets them do what they do best. Rollins seems to understand that. Time will tell if she can deliver.