Bloomberg Businessweek
43and organic. Their
cows would graze in
the field. Aubertine
would buy no herbi-
cides, no grain feed,
no nutritional supple-
ments, no hormone
treatments. Instead
ofacquiringthehuge,
high-powered heif-
ers that produce
90 pounds of milk a
day, he assembled a
herd of smaller cows
that might give him
- Because of the ani-
mals’ reduced stress,
hecouldkeepthem
onthe farm longer,
savingonlivestockcosts.
“I’ma realist,andI expectedbumpsontheroad,but—and
I shouldn’tsaythisoutloud,probably—butit’sbeenbeyond
myexpectations,whatwe’vebeenabletodo,”Aubertine
says.Thepricehecommandsforgrass-fedorganicmilkisn’t
doublethatofregularmilk,butit’sclose,andhisexpenses
area fractionofwhata moderndairywouldrequire.Hecan
raisehiskids,takethemonvacations,buynicethings,and
preservepreciselythethingsaboutdairyfarmingthathe
believedwereworthpreserving.
“It’snotevensomuchthepricesyou’repaid,butit’sthe
consistencyoftheprices,”hesays.“Wecanmakea bud-
get,becauseweknowwhatwe’regoingtobepaid—we’re
guaranteedeachmonth’spricesa yearinadvance,andthey
don’tcomeoffthatprice,unlesstheygoupandpaymore.
SoI’mnotoneofthosedairyfarmersgoingtothemailbox
everymonthandworryingaboutwhat’sgoingtobeinthe
milkcheck.”
HesellstoMapleHillCreameryLLC,a venture-capital-
backed company specializing in organic milk from grass-
fed cows. It collects milk from 158 farms, all in upstate New
York. The average farm keeps 48 cows. CEO Carl Gerlach
says he believes increasing demand for milk from grass-fed
cows has the potential to transform the American dairy farm.
“When I think of what dairy will look like in 20 years,” he
says, “I believe it’ll look like it did 100 years ago.”
If that transition actually occurs, Aubertine knows it’s
unlikely to be a smooth one for farmers currently operat-
ing within the standard, modern dairy system. Aubertine’s
organic certifications—the ones that enable him to get pre-
mium prices—require that his land, for example, has been
free of herbicides and synthetic fertilizers for at least three
years. “If that’s what your farm is running on, how is a farmer
going to just stop doing that for three years, and still keep his
head above water?” he asks. “So we were kind of lucky, in a
way. It’s easier to start from scratch.”
endairycowsnolongerpay for themselves,
hey’re often culled—the polite term for being
ent to slaughter. As small farms fold, their cows
arerarelyincorporated into the herds of large dairies; older
animalsdon’t handle the transition to a new milking system
well and produce less milk than those raised in the system.
According to industry figures, only four times in the 25 years
before 2019 did the national weekly total of slaughtered dairy
cows exceed 70,000. Every one of those times occurred in the
second week of January, when slaughterhouses reopen after
a holiday hiatus and catch up on a backlog of work. In 2019
it was a rare week when the cull total didn’t exceed 70,000.
Yager, on his farm in Wisconsin, watched his nephew try
to sell off his cows last fall. “Anything that was over four years
old, people didn’t want,” he says. “He had to haul them out to
be culled.” The very thought pained him. “I know every one
of my cows,” he says. “I love these animals.”
On a winter weekday morning at Fair Oaks Farms, a traffic
light outside the Birthing Barn, a red-painted structure near
the Cowfé, turns green. That means another show is about
to commence inside. About 30 people gather on bleachers in
an amphitheater-style room. Two cows stand onstage, sep-
arated from the crowd by a glass wall. Jumbo TV monitors
hang above them. The backside of one cow faces the audi-
ence; extending from it is a small, glistening hoof. The cow,
breathing heavily, convulses slightly. The hoof extends fur-
ther, exposing a foreleg. “Ewwwww!” a little girl in the crowd
says. “Is that a baby pig coming out?”
Within minutes—at 11:48 a.m., precisely—a Fair Oaks
employeetugshardonthecalf ’sprotrudinglegs,andwith
onefinalpushfromitsmothertheanimalfallsina messyheap
onthestraw-covered stage. It’s one of about 80 to 100 calves
bornthatday,andeveryday,atFairOaks.
Afterthemotherlicksthecalfawake,thenewbornis
ushered offstage and outfitted with an ID tag: 36,873. <BW>
�With Deena Shanker and Lydia MulvanyYager’s 300-cow farm, once considered a sizableoperation,isone-hundredth the size of Fair Oaks