We Sold Our Future

Acknowledgment

This article does not delve into the critical and complex history of First Nations land ownership and stewardship in Saskatchewan and beyond. That omission is not an oversight, but a recognition that the story of Indigenous land is vast, profound, and deserving of focused attention beyond the scope of this piece.

Indigenous Peoples were the original stewards of this land, and their knowledge of sustainable practices, community-centred governance, and respect for natural ecosystems offers vital lessons for our shared future. Any vision for agriculture, land ownership, or soil restoration must centre Indigenous leadership and uphold the principles of reconciliation, respect, and restitution.

At its heart, this article advocates for the idea that people—not corporations—should own land. Humans need ground to stand on, each of us and all of us. Land is more than a resource; it is a source of identity, culture, and connection. Indigenous perspectives remind us of this truth, emphasizing that land stewardship is not about possession, but relationship.

As we move forward, the inclusion of Indigenous leadership in all planning and development is non-negotiable. This is not only a matter of justice, but also of wisdom. Re-imagining land ownership in ways that honour the past while building a sustainable, equitable future requires all of us—Indigenous and non-Indigenous—to stand together, rooted in shared values and mutual respect.

For those working to reclaim land and restore soil, let us ensure this work includes the voices, perspectives, and leadership of those who have cared for these lands for millennia. Only then can we truly build a future where the land supports each of us—and all of us.

What if the very land that once built our communities is now tearing them apart?

In the vast prairie expanse of Saskatchewan, where the soil has cradled generations, a silent crisis brews. For over a century, this land was a promise for farmers—a place where families could root their futures and harvest their dreams. But in just two generations, that promise has withered.

Once, 40% of Saskatchewan’s population worked in agriculture. Today, less than 2% remain connected to the land, and even fewer own it. What happened? Who took the dream away?

The answer is both complex and painfully simple: we sold our future.

The Great Sell-Off

In the early 2000s, a policy change opened Saskatchewan’s farmland to Canadian investors, shifting ownership from families to corporations. For some, this was an opportunity—a chance to cash out after decades of hard work. For others, it was the beginning of the end. The farmland they could once afford to pass down to their children became a line item in an investor's portfolio.

Enter Angelic, Canada’s largest private farmland owner. Angelic saw opportunity where others saw legacy. He bought up vast tracts of Saskatchewan’s fertile soil, boasting that his investments turned a profit while "modernizing" farming. But the reality beneath his business model tells a darker story.

People should own land. Humans need ground to stand on. Each of us. And all of us.

What We Lost

The land that Angelic’s corporations now control is stripped of its wetlands, its biodiversity flattened for industrial-scale farming. Once, these ecosystems regulated water, supported wildlife, and preserved soil health. Today, they’re gone—replaced by monocultures that prioritize yield over resilience.

This isn’t progress. It’s theft. Theft of a future where small farmers could sustain their communities, where rural towns thrived, and where soil health wasn’t sacrificed for quarterly profits.

And yet, we hear a dangerous, tired, refrain: This is just the way of the future.

I see a different future.

“What I'll say to that is you have a full section, let's say one mile by one mile square. Around that section is all road allowances, and they are all either trees or brush or something. The rest you farm in between.

So you can never remove all that. So you do not have just everything bare. That's not absolutely not true.”

-Robert Angelic

This quote is the reason I wrote this story. and the reason two projects were initiated today. There is a better, more profitable model. Starting with soil restoration, with a goal of remediating abused farmland, in order to restore its productive capacity, and value. Over the long term, there is an interesting profit differential between speculative farming, and productive farming, and ownership.

The False Promises of Efficiency

Industrial agriculture is often marketed as inevitable, as though bigger farms and fewer owners are the only path forward. But let me ask you: if consolidation is so efficient, why are our communities emptier than ever? Why are our young farmers priced out of the market? Why is the soil, our most valuable resource, being depleted to the brink of collapse?

The answer is clear: the promises of industrial agriculture are built on fragile ground.

This is not a new story. I worked on agriculture projects in Iowa in the early 2000’s and even then, the soil had been depleted to the point where there was zero nutrient base. My work was to implement an additive that would increase the uptake of water and applied nutrients into the plant. Their methods were destroying their entire ecology, from all of the waste product that contaminated the soil and watershed. And I was there to improve that, as a profit measure. It’s an old, familiar, sad story.

The Seeds of Resistance

But all is not lost. Across Saskatchewan—and the world—farmers, scientists, and activists are showing us a different way. Regenerative agriculture, championed by movements like the Carbon Cowboys, is proving that restoring soil health doesn’t just heal the planet—it improves yields, strengthens communities, and makes farming profitable again.

Imagine this: degraded land, made worthless by corporations, brought back to life through better practices. Soil that sequesters carbon, holds water, and supports diverse crops. Imagine farmland where communities, not corporations, thrive.

This isn’t a pipe dream. It’s happening now.

A Blueprint for Change

In the coming weeks, I’ll be sharing more about:

• Exposing corporate exploitation: How companies like Angelic’s circumvent laws to hoard land.
• Regenerative success stories: Farmers who’ve reclaimed their soil and their futures.
• Policy solutions: What we can do to make land ownership equitable and sustainable again.

But I need you, too. The fight to reclaim our farmland is a fight for our survival, and it starts with awareness.

What Can You Do?

1. Reflect: Who owns the farmland near you? What impact does it have on your community?
2. Engage: Support farmers who prioritize sustainability. Buy local. Advocate for policies that protect smallholders.
3. Imagine: A world where land is stewarded for the next generation—not sold to the highest bidder.

The soil still remembers. It holds the stories of those who came before us, and it’s ready to write the next chapter. Will we restore its vitality and our own, or will we let it slip through our fingers?

Let’s not sell our future. Let’s reclaim it.

What’s your experience with farmland ownership? Have you seen the effects of consolidation in your community? Let’s talk. Share your thoughts and subscribe for more stories and strategies to restore our land, our communities, and our future.

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Thanks!

B

A ditch is not a wetland. Corporate farming strips the land, and us, of our future.

In the end, the land will endure. The question is whether we will.

PS -