From the Flinchbaugh Chair: When Policy Gets Personal

Written by Jennifer Ifft

Many agricultural policy topics provoke strong reactions or fall along political fault lines. That’s natural—people care deeply about the food they eat, the well-being of rural families and workers, shared natural resources, taxes, and more. Farm labor and immigration are extreme examples: despite decades of hard-fought compromise in Congress, durable solutions remain elusive due to the broader political climate. And these dynamics don’t just play out in Washington—they show up on farms, in classrooms, and in research conversations.

As an educator and extension economist, I worry that certain topics may cause students or stakeholders to disengage. Avoiding relevant but controversial issues isn’t the answer. I still have a job to do—and that means helping people understand how policy works, even when the conversation gets uncomfortable.

I try to meet that challenge in two ways: first, by making clear that my work is grounded in the land-grant mission of research, teaching, and extension; and second, by acknowledging the range of views in the room.

The idea that a policy adviser’s role is not to advocate, but to educate is central to the land-grant mission. Barry Flinchbaugh often emphasized presenting “alternatives and consequences.” That approach is familiar to many producers and stakeholders I work with, thanks to Barry’s tireless efforts. When I sense concern that I’m taking a side, I remind folks that explaining how a policy works doesn’t mean I’m endorsing it.

I’ve heard stories about how Barry used humor—and his reputation for “giving all sides a hard time”—to defuse tough policy conversations. I’m not quite ready to troll my conservative friends about calling every farm payment “earned,” or my liberal friends about designing conservation programs with 37 eligibility boxes—maybe once I’ve earned a few more gray hairs. In the meantime, I try to concisely explain—even if I feel awkward—how different views often reflect deeply held ideas about fairness, responsibility, and community. Those beliefs shape both how policy is made and how it works.

Recently, I was kicking off a research project on soil health and regenerative agriculture. When I noted that some support for these practices has roots in social justice movements, one person voiced frustration. We had a frank and thoughtful conversation. I emphasized that my focus was on whether soil health investments affect a producer’s bottom line—and that I’ll share the results, no matter what they show.

So far, my students mostly complain about excessive acronyms—not political bias—so I’m probably doing something right. I’ll keep at it. I’m grateful to do this work in a place where Barry’s legacy helps make it possible to be an effective policy educator—even amid political fault lines.

Jennifer Ifft 

Flinchbaugh Agricultural Policy Chair 

Associate Professor and Extension Specialist in Agricultural Policy 

Department of Agricultural Economics | Kansas State University 

Phone: (785) 532-4486 | Email: jifft@ksu.edu 

331J Waters Hall | Twitter: @jeifft 

Contact Us To Learn More