America First? Then Feed America First.

One nation can feed itself. We’re not it, and we’re cutting the tools that keep us fed.

Only one country on Earth is fully food self-sufficient.

According to a recent study in Nature Food, Guyana is the only nation capable of meeting all seven essential food groups independently. Not the United States. Not China. Closely behind being able to meet six out of the seven groups are China and Vietnam. (Makes one think a bit more about those tariffs, doesn’t it?)

In a world battered by war, extreme heat, and supply chain collapse, that fact is an urgent policy reckoning. American farmers work hard to feed the country. But the support systems that helped them do that, from crop data to conservation grants to food access, are being quietly pulled away.

NOAA Satellite Reality Check

Let’s start with the satellites, because we just turned off the ones that help us see a drought coming.

For over 40 years, a sensor called AVHRR quietly powered global crop and drought monitoring. It gave us a daily view of vegetation health, used by farmers, insurers, and government agencies to track early signs of trouble. NOAA shut it off in June. And with it, we lost one of the longest-running tools in our food system.

Now, we’re down to a single remaining satellite line (JPSS), and the Trump administration’s FY-26 budget proposes slashing funding for its replacements. Once those fail, we’ll be flying blind, just as climate extremes and supply chain shocks grow more volatile. NOAA’s research partners are sounding the alarm. The director of Boulder's Cooperative Institute for Research in Environmental Sciences (CIRES), Waleed Abdalati, said he hopes Congress will intervene on the deeper Trump cuts to NOAA, stating it would be “a huge blow to national interests,” jeopardizing hundreds of research jobs and the very data streams Midwest farmers depend on.

The U.S. still produces enough food overall, but this data loss comes as climate shocks, rising costs, and policy cuts expose just how vulnerable our food system really is. So while we remain dependent on other nations to fully meet our food needs, and while the “America First” movement demands that we focus inward, we're actively cutting off the very tools and support systems that help U.S. farmers stay competitive, resilient, and sustainable.

Someone please explain how that adds up to American strength or self-reliance, because from where I’m sitting, it looks like we’re sabotaging ourselves.

The Price of Planting Blind

Layer on top of that the economic pressure squeezing American farmers as hard as the climate strain.

Here’s what they’re up against:

• Tariffs & interest: Seed and fertilizer costs remain high, while operating loan rates have climbed to 9%, more than double what they were three years ago.

• April volley: The April tariff volley briefly pushed the effective duty on U.S. soybeans to 155%, but a 90-day truce in mid-May pared that to about 30%. Farmers are stuck in limbo: the tariff could spring back to 34% (or higher) if talks collapse after August 12.

• Price crash: Soy prices have tanked 40%. So what’s a farmer like Beau Hanson doing? Betting 90% of his land on corn, because planting soy this year would be like lighting money on fire.

• Planting shift: The United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) expects 95 million corn acres this season, the most in five years, as growers chase any chance of profit.

Export markets, such as China, are essential because U.S. agriculture is built for volume, not local self-reliance. Industrial farms in the Midwest use GPS-driven planters and engineered seeds to produce more than Americans can consume, and they rely on steady global demand to stay afloat. But the system is brittle. One tariff, one climate event, one bad policy, and everything starts to buckle.

Cane‑sugar curveball: This week Coca‑Cola announced it will launch a U.S. Coke made with cane sugar after a public nudge from President Trump. (I love Mexican Coca-Cola!) Yet America already imports roughly one‑third of its sugar supply, and domestic cane acreage is limited to Florida, Louisiana, and Texas, areas hammered by hurricanes and extreme heat. Scaling up “real cane” means leaning even harder on imports or planting more cane in climate‑stressed zones, another reminder that slogans don’t substitute for supply.

As if tariffs and drought weren’t enough, the Trump USDA in May canceled the $3 billion Climate-Smart Commodities Program, a grant pool that helped farmers adopt soil-health practices. In Wisconsin alone, 37 farmer contracts vanished, 4,000 acres of planned no-till and 16,000 acres of cover crops lost funding, and technical-support jobs evaporated. For the record, killing conservation dollars today means weaker soils, worse runoff, and lower yields tomorrow, the opposite of long-term food security.

But economics and agronomy aren’t the only weak links. The fragility of our food system is not just about crops or inflation; it’s about the people who grow, pick, and move our food. That workforce, which is largely immigrant labor, is under siege as we all very well know. ICE raids are sweeping through farms and processing plants, leaving produce unpicked and supply chains stalled. Result: shrinking harvests and rising grocery prices.

We’re watching crops wither, harvests shrink, and families queue for groceries, all in the same economy. So while we make it harder to harvest food, we’re also making it harder to access it. We cut the labor. Then we cut the safety net. What exactly is the plan here? The same policies that target those in the field are tightening the belt around families at the table.

Food Insecurity Is the Real Emergency

Which brings us to Easthampton, Massachusetts.

On the surface, it’s a small New England town with art galleries, restaurants, and renovated mill buildings. But on Monday mornings, a different scene unfolds on a quiet side street: a line of hundreds waiting for free groceries at the Easthampton Community Center and Food Pantry.

Pulitzer Prize-winning writer Tracy Kidder reported in his powerful piece, which I hope all of you will read (gifted the article in that link), that the line at the Pantry has quadrupled in size since the pandemic. The center's director, Robin Bialecki, serves over 5,000 families each month, up from 1,000 before 2020. She's the only paid staffer, making $32,400 a year, and she hasn’t taken a Christmas off in 17 years. 

A central topic of conversation is Trump’s “Big, Beautiful Bill,” which slashes nearly $200 billion from SNAP. More than two million people are expected to lose their SNAP benefits. SNAP once dwarfed all U.S. food banks combined; gutting it turns pantries into the last line of defense, and that line is already breaking. “We depend on you! And you’re not going to have enough food,” one woman said, shaking the pantry director’s shoulders. 

That wasn’t a dramatization. That was a forecast. A more honest one than NOAA is currently allowed to give.

What the Data and the Food Pantry Line Both Tell Us

The satellites say our crops are in trouble. The food-bank line says people are too.

Together, they reveal a nation unprepared for climate shocks, policy cruelty, and eroded safety nets.

Food isn’t just an economic good; it’s strategic leverage.

• Domestic stability: Price spikes trigger unrest faster than speeches can calm it.

• Military readiness: One in four U.S. troops already faces food insecurity; deeper cuts sap recruiting and focus.

• Geopolitical risk: Countries that can't feed themselves are vulnerable to coercion; Russia and China already use grain as a means of influence.

• Migration pressure: Crop failures drive displacement that shows up at the U.S. border months later, something I could never get people inside the Trump 1.0 White House to understand. But when Stephen Miller is running immigration policy, cruelty overrides science and facts every time.

• Global contagion: The 2008–09 food-price shock sparked riots in over 30 countries; tighter supply chains and harsher climate conditions now magnify that risk.

One country can feed itself. We are not that country. But we could be a nation that ensures no child goes to bed hungry. Instead, we’re gutting food aid, muzzling science, and cutting off the lifelines that keep families fed and farmers afloat. And the truth is, no matter how many flags you wave or tariffs you cheer, none of that feeds a hungry child.

Until next time,

Olivia

PS: Forward this to one person who hasn’t been paying attention. The more eyes on the truth, the better our chances.