Founder update: How to build truly resilient farms

Later this year, I’ll be transitioning out of my day-to-day role at PB to focus on independent journalistic work. I'll be researching, reflecting on, and writing about the forces that shape our food system and the possibilities we have to reimagine it. I believe storytelling can do more than highlight what's broken – it can challenge assumptions, reframe our roles within the system, and illuminate a better path forward.

In honor of Earth Month, I’m kicking off a special series that offers a preview of what’s ahead for me and spotlights the important work happening at the intersection of agriculture and climate action. 

First up: the often-overlooked nuance of what truly signals thoughtful farming practices – as opposed to those that are simply scalable and easy to market. These topics might not be glamorous (read on for a new term I’m introducing to this newsletter), but I believe they’re foundational to building a more resilient future.

One word you’ve probably heard a lot lately is regenerative. It likely brings to mind soil health and climate change – but what does it really mean?

At its core, regenerative agriculture is about farming in a way that builds living, functional soil – so it can continue to grow food for generations to come. Soils protected from constant tilling and chemical treatments aren’t just more fertile, they’re also remarkably effective at capturing carbon from the atmosphere and storing it underground. In many ways, the buzz is justified.

Sheep that Jeff in Montana introduced to his chickpea and grain farm to stimulate root growth and enrich the soil with organic matter.

Here’s where things get tricky: when good intentions collide with the pressures of scaling. To grow a movement, we often lean on certifications and labels. These tools are helpful – they communicate values across complex supply chains. But in the process, nuance is often lost. A narrow set of “approved” practices may work on some farms but fall flat on others. (I explore this more in a previous post.)

Because here’s the thing: farming is a constant balancing act. Farmers are expected to grow beautiful, blemish-free food, meet environmental goals, and stay financially viable. Pest and disease pressures are real, varying by location, crop type, and climate. That’s why PB sells certified organic beans from arid Idaho but not from more humid Michigan.

Ernie's Organics in Southern Idaho benefits from a dry and sunny growing season.

The best way to reduce these pressures isn’t to fight nature – it’s to work with it. This brings me to a quiet hero of the food system: Integrated Pest Management (IPM). It doesn’t have the cachet of regenerative, but it should! IPM is a science-based, ecological approach to farming that took root in the 1960s. It’s all about prevention – building healthy soil, supporting biodiversity, and maintaining balance. And when pests or diseases do show up, IPM offers a thoughtful, step-by-step response, reserving chemical interventions as a last resort.

Many farmers – especially those working outside the spotlight – have turned to IPM out of necessity. There’s a whole web of support behind it: university extensions, non-profits, farmer networks, and USDA programs (though alarmingly, funding for these federal programs is under threat). Yet despite all this, the work remains largely invisible.

I’m proud to say PB farmers are IPM champions. I’m thinking of Armando in Zacatecas, Mexico, who rotates beans with chiles and onions to manage disease. Fran and Shawn in Michigan, who apply turkey litter to cut down on synthetic fertilizer. Or Cooper and Fred in Idaho, who reduce tillage to boost soil health and keep carbon in the ground.

Scenes from PB's family of farmers.

IPM doesn’t fit neatly into a label.* It resists the binary of regenerative vs conventional. That’s also what I love about it – it reflects what real farming looks like: ever-changing, textured, and thoughtful.

Most of the labels we spot at a Whole Foods were born from crisis. Organic emerged as a response to synthetic pesticides. Regenerative was a reaction to climate change. What if, instead of always reacting, we started planning ahead? What if we embraced a holistic, forward-thinking framework – one that recognizes complexity and supports the ecological systems that sustain us?

In many ways, the PB model I dreamed of building already works this way. It fosters direct connections between home cooks and farmers, respecting the nuance and art of agriculture beyond the narrow confines of grocery store labels.

But the bigger question remains: Are we, as a society, willing to continuously invest in the kind of support that our farms need? 

I’ll be back with more soon. 

Lesley

*There's one exception: EcoCertified® from my favorite Red Tomato, a regional IPM certification program for northeastern orchards.