By Greg Bilbrey

Editor’s note: Greg Bilbrey is an account manager with Pig Improvement Company (PIC). He presented during the ‘Management & Production’ breakout session at the 2022 Banff Pork Seminar. For more information, contact Ann Marie Ames at aames@filamentag.com.

Do you feel like you lack the time or resources for collecting and analyzing sow or pig performance data? You might have more resources than you realize.

When done correctly, comparing production data to benchmarks can pay for itself and improve your farm’s profitability. Using data, you can identify declines in pig performance and work back to identify the cause. Only then can you take steps to find a possible solution, whether it be changes in nutrition, management or genetics.

Even if you do not want to compare your herd’s data to other operations, you could find excellent opportunities for improvement by comparing your own current performance data to metrics from months or years prior. Doing so can help identify ways to generate better results in areas where your pigs are under-performing, which benefits profitability overall.

Analyzing data efficiently

One way to focus your efforts when comparing sets of performance data is to divide the set of closeout data into groups based on performance. Looking at narrower metrics can be more efficient than looking at averages. ‘Opportunity cost,’ in this case, refers to the financial difference between using narrower metrics versus averages.

For example, in a sample group of PIC wean-to-finish pigs, performance metrics led to an average USD $8.78 (CAD $11.17) opportunity cost per head in closeout data from approximately 122,000 pigs (Table 1.1). However, when the pigs were ranked in groups identified by the previous year’s performance data (Table 1.2), the opportunity cost is even more compelling.

Thirty percent of 2021 closeouts performed equal to the upper half of the previous year’s closeouts. The 2021 group had 1.76 pounds (lbs.) (0.798 kilograms (kg)) of average daily gain, a 2.32 feed conversion rate and 5.1 per cent mortality. Using standardized economics, PIC calculated a USD $1.39 (CAD $1.77) opportunity cost per head.

Seventy percent of 2021 closeouts performed equal to the lower half of the previous year’s closeouts. The 2021 group had 1.59 lbs. (0.721 kg) of average daily gain, a 2.40 feed conversion rate and 11 per cent mortality, resulting in a USD $12.58 (CAD $16.00) opportunity cost per head.

If the producer could move a quarter of the group from the lower half to the upper half, this could result in a positive shift of USD $225,000 (CAD $285,000) for that sample herd.

Investigating the causes of under-performance

The data shown in Table 2 was collected from PIC customers, representing about one million sows in 46 systems, between April and June 2021. The first column is data collected by PIC. The four additional columns are data collected by other national benchmarking systems. One commonality between systems is that producers who achieve more than 30 weaned pigs per sow per year kept their pre-wean mortality below 10 per cent. By focusing on pre-weaning survivability, producers could efficiently improve their litters per sow per year and pigs per litter – together known as ‘PSY.’

To pinpoint specific areas where potential improvements can be made in your operation, treat the process like an investigation or forensic analysis, working back from the performance data to find out what the numbers represent.

What factors are limiting performance? From one year to the next, changes in the market, health challenges and labor availability can impact pig performance. Physical factors such as feeder space, diet, water availability or space allowance can also drag down performance metrics. Consider which factor you think you can change and start there.

If you are convinced it is time to start or enhance benchmarking sow or pig performance, you can choose from a variety of commercial benchmarking systems. When evaluating them, consider the methods each uses to collect and analyze metrics. Variation between systems is common, and it is important to ensure you are comparing apples to apples.

When collecting data, begin with some historical information, if possible. If you can compile data from the previous three months or one year, you can quickly populate graphs and see trends. However, if you don’t have historical data, you can start at any point you choose.

Taking advantage of opportunities

Hog industry benchmarking programs continue to show wide variation in sow and grow-to-finish production. The variation indicates significant opportunities for increasing profitability. Benchmarking production can be an effective way to identify where or how you could keep costs down and improve the efficiency and profitability of your operation.

By Stewart Skinner

Editor’s note: Stewart Skinner is a hog farmer near Listowel, Ontario – about 150 kilometres west of Toronto. His article is a response to Lesley Kelly’s presentation during the ‘Human Resources’ breakout session at the 2022 Banff Pork Seminar. Skinner and Kelly are partners with the ‘Do More Agriculture Foundation’: champions for the mental well-being of all Canadian producers.

With every sunset starting a little later and lasting a little longer, we Canadians can start to anticipate the conclusion of another winter. While much of the art in our vocation has been altered by technology, there is still the rhythm of the seasons that every farmer must dance to, and spring is the favourite time of year for most. 

We emerge from our barns and sheds for the promise of another year and the hope of a bountiful crop ahead. Sadly, every year there are a few of our brethren that do not join us again – friends that succumb to a disease continuing to stalk farmers across Canada. Mental illness is no stranger to farmers, and, tragically, it continues to collect a heavy toll.

I first shared publicly about my struggles with depression and anxiety in 2013. Today, we are in an entirely different world; long-held stigmas that led to widespread repression of healthy outcomes for those who deal with mental illness are now in the rear-view mirror. Awareness among the general population is as high as it has ever been, following a watershed change in how the disease itself is viewed over the past decade. No longer do people ‘kill themselves’ – they die of suicide after battling a deadly disease. This positive environment means more people feel safe to get out of their own shells and seek help, whether it be traditional therapy, medication or alternative treatments like music or art therapy.

Awareness has never been higher, but why are we not making progress on the farmer suicide front?

As a person who has lived with this for some time, there is very much an ebb and flow to how healthy my mind can be. Mental health is not a light switch – on and we are fine, off and all is dark and sad. It is dynamic and ever-changing. Think of standing at the shore of the ocean; there are times of calm and times of uncertainty, the impact of which can depend on the tide itself. Picture the oncoming storm on the horizon; if the tide is out, those crashing waves can do less harm. Such is the case with our mental resilience. The impact of an unexpected calamity is dependent on the underlying health going into the crisis. A person who has a high degree of resilience has a better chance of living through the storm than someone who is already mentally exhausted prior to impact.

Over the past two years, I have watched the model I constructed to keep my resilience up be torn apart, ironically in the name of keeping me safe.

Due to poor first experiences with the field of psychiatry, I have always been skeptical of how most doctors approached mental health, given the heavy reliance on medication versus the basket of different therapies that have been developed. My resilience was buffered through communities – friends and colleagues that I could share with, recreational sports and my church. There were also unhealthy coping mechanisms present – alcohol and cannabis – yet on the whole, there was stability that came largely through community support.

Since the start of COVID-19, each of those healthy pillars has been taken away for at least some part of it, and in the case of sports, I have not bricked a three-point shot since our last basketball game, in January 2020. Conversely, while my church was closed and I could not meet a fellow hog farmer for breakfast at the greasy spoon in town, the lights never turned off at the beer store, and my body has now become fully addicted. It takes serious concentration to make it through a day without cracking a beer out of habit.

My partner, Jessica, and I founded Imani Farms, in 2015, when we purchased a sow herd from my parents. Over the years, we have experienced success and have been able to grow that into a business that focuses on niche markets like ‘Certified Organic’ and ‘Certified Humane’ for customers in Canada and the U.S. We entered into those markets to seek out value chains that removed the volatility of the traditional pig market. That said, we both grew up in pig farming families and understood the realities of the pig business.

2021 was a good reminder that, no matter the market you are in, pigs need to move on time, and you need to keep animals healthy. 2021 saw shipments come to a grinding halt mid-year, as COVID-19 wreaked havoc on Canadian meatpacking plants. Health has suffered, as we had a number of disease issues throughout the year – no small thing in a production system for which any antibiotics must be administered on an individual level. Add in soaring feed costs for good measure, and we had quite the tempest brewing. Now remember the previous analogy – that tempest hit when the tidewaters were already lapping at the pier. As wave after wave hit, my condition eroded further and further. There were two specific 48-hour periods last year when suicide was as close for me as ever, with a mind desperate to escape the pain and only a mental image of a loving partner and two beautiful children to shine through an inky darkness.

2021 has likely made me a better farmer; however, it has made me much more cynical about the progress we have seen on the mental health front. One cannot deny the importance of awareness – these words do not get printed on these pages in decades past. Yet, how much of that awareness was generated from a genuine place and not just a shrewd method to improve a corporate or personal image? 

I say that I have become cynical, because I have learned over the past 12 months that if my personal story challenges the worldview of another, that person is more apt to dismiss my experience than actually listen and learn. Perhaps, they get uncomfortable. At the root of my newfound cynicism is that farmers are still dying from mental health issues, and the people with the power to change it are only interested in ensuring that they do the bare minimum to justify a couple hashtag-laden tweets on certain days of the year. 2021 was the year it became apparent to me that our politicians view farmer suicide no different than national expenditures on fertilizer – just another line item on the income statement.

Friends, things are not fine. I have hog farming friends who, by the time this hits your mailbox, will no longer have a hook for their pigs. We are about to enter a farming season during which we can no longer assume that the part we need to finish the job before the rain hits will be at the dealership. We have federal regulations that are quickly becoming out-of-step with our global competitors. We have uncertain times, with the price of farmland skyrocketing once again and high interest rates lurking just around the corner. All of the factors that make farming one of the most stressful occupations are inflamed. Things are not fine.

Is all lost? Should we throw up our hands and be happy that at least we have created a society in which we celebrate those who seek help versus belittle?

Personally, I would like to move from being a line item and instead be classified as an intangible asset.  We can start by tearing down the silos that dominate the traditional healthcare field, and as a country, we can decide saving farmers’ lives today is more important than haggling over jurisdiction or who is paying for what. 

There is an urgent need for a national, bilingual, 24/7 crisis line that is available to every farmer from Comox to Codroy, staffed with professionals that have been trained specifically to deal with farmers – the type of people who know it is a bad idea to tell a farmer to ‘just take a break’ at the height of the busy season. Beyond that, the need is no different for the more than seven million other Canadians who deal with mental illness – a national pharmacare system so that financial standing does not get in the way of finding the right medication and improved accessibility to therapy.

The farmer is the lynch pin of Canada’s largest industry, which employs more Canadians than any other already, while having the potential to continue growing. There are less than half a million of us left in Canada, and the institutional knowledge in our collective hive mind is what will ensure each year there are dancers ready to hit the field when mother nature starts playing her springtime tune. One could argue we are a resource worth protecting.

By Andrew Heck

Understanding the many perspectives that shape public trust in animal agriculture relies on a great deal of speculation, largely based on word-of-mouth, opinion polls, social media and purchasing trends exhibited by consumers. But connecting those perspectives back to the experience on-farm, for producers, can be less tangible.

The search for truth while finding common ground with the ‘other side’ can often end in a toxic stalemate when producers and consumers butt heads. Industry representatives make tireless efforts to ‘educate’ the masses, while many urbanites – largely disconnected from the intricacies of food supply chains – often resort to unreliable sources to find answers to their burning questions. The list of questions, and the need for answers, grows constantly.

Three sessions at the 2022 Banff Pork Seminar either directly or indirectly addressed the challenge of reinforcing public trust, exploring themes related to hog sector issues that continue to cause consternation for producers and consumers alike.

Clapping back at critics

In animal agriculture, emissions of carbon dioxide and methane are often cited as drivers of climate change – a widely held assumption by some consumers, even though certain academic thought leaders suggest the scenario is not as bad as it looks. Other figures, like Patrick Moore of Greenspirit Consulting, take that line of thinking a step further, which may or may not be entirely helpful for the hog sector.

Moore delivered a presentation during the second plenary session of the 2022 Banff Pork Seminar. A native of Winter Harbour, B.C., Moore grew up around the commercial logging industry, in a remote inlet at the far north end of Vancouver Island. He still lives on the island today. For a decade and a half, Moore was a founding and widely photographed member of Greenpeace Canada, until an ideological rift emerged between him and others in the group.

“We cared about people. That is the ‘peace’ in ‘Greenpeace,’” said Moore. “As time went on, Greenpeace drifted into the idea that humans are the enemy of the Earth, as opposed to part of nature.”

Moore’s early work gained international renown starting in the early 1970s, when he and other avant-garde activists decided to protest certain activities in the Pacific Ocean, including the escalation of Cold War-era tensions.

“I became a born-again environmentalist and sailed on a boat with a group of activists to stop U.S. hydrogen bomb testing in Alaska,” said Moore. “We sailed in the late fall in the stormy seas to the Aleutian Islands and got on Walter Cronkite’s Evening News and really changed the whole course of the nuclear arms race.”

Starting in the late 1980s, Moore began to draw the ire of his former peers and modern-day eco-warriors for his involvement with the ‘CO₂ Coalition’ – a group dedicated to defending atmospheric carbon dioxide – and ‘Allow Golden Rice Now!’ – advocating for the production and consumption of a yellow-coloured, genetically modified strain of rice designed to biosynthesize beta-carotene, a precursor of Vitamin A. Given his history with Greenpeace, some accuse Moore of forfeiting his earlier beliefs to become a paid lobbyist. Moore, however, remains unfazed.

“The truth of the matter is that every single scare story today is either about things that are invisible – like CO₂, radiation and whatever’s in GMOs that’s supposed to be bad – or so remote – like coral reefs and polar bears – that no-one can observe for themselves whether the claims being made are true or not,” he said.

It may be difficult for some people inside and outside of agriculture to reconcile with Moore’s views. Certainly, he possesses the relevant education and experience to articulate his positions in a way that resonates with receptive audiences. ‘The facts’ may be black-and-white, but individual interpretation always leaves a grey area. Our emotional brain, as humans – whether hog farmers or food consumers – thrives in those murky waters, where our feelings have the power to blind us to reality, reinforcing our convictions and clouding our better judgment.

For producers, it would be wise to exercise caution around dismissing certain topics like environmental impacts and other concerns, such as animal handling and housing practices, that may be perceived as less ‘humane’ than desired by consumers.

Balancing the conversation is key

Vincent ter Beek is an ‘agricultural immigrant,’ having come to the industry with a background in history and journalism, not farming. As an admitted outsider, Ter Beek today sits at the helm of Pig Progress, recognized as a true global authority on pigs and pork, but, unlike Moore, he seeks a sense of balance as it relates to industry issues. Ter Beek delivered a presentation during the closing plenary session of the 2022 Banff Pork Seminar.

“My Twitter timeline is a curious amalgam of people living in cities and working in journalism – often left-wing and sometimes vocal vegans – and people working in agriculture – complaining that many people in cities have lost touch with reality,” said Ter Beek. “I listen, will treat everyone with respect, but it’s in my best interest not to choose sides.”

For the hog industry, Ter Beek’s insights may be cumbersome or even outright frustrating. In fact, Ter Beek is not a moral judge of the sector, but instead a conscientious ally, offering praise alongside constructive criticism. A noteworthy takeaway message from Ter Beek is that the temporary discomfort associated with adapting to public pressures may be one way to secure industry success, going forward.

“City people have lost touch with agriculture, I often hear. They’ve lived away from agricultural reality for too long. They don’t realize that, for a pork chop, sausage or spare ribs to be created, a living creature has to be grown and slaughtered,” said Ter Beek. “For opening up to the outside world and becoming more understood, it is also important to ask the question: does the swine business want to show everything that is happening in the farm?”

On the flip side, producers should not necessarily rush to make rash decisions, simply out of fear. Consumers hold a lot of power, collectively, but the loudest opponents of animal agriculture are an extreme, small minority of critics, and while their sway should not be ignored, sensible interaction between the industry and animal welfare groups often excludes these voices for a reason.

Many animal activists have few boundaries when it comes to attacking the hog sector, often very unfairly, but Ter Beek uses an analogy, ‘the Instagram test,’ to demonstrate how words and images matter. A lack of transparency around certain hog production practices can generate suspicion, and that suspicion is exactly what activists use to strengthen their arguments.

“We all know that, by 2050, there will be more than nine billion mouths to feed,” said Ter Beek. “They may not all be eating meat, but if everyone at least has some money to spend, the demand for meat will only grow. And where will these extra people of the future live? Most likely, the vast majority will live in cities.”

Tail docking and castrating piglets, and the use of gestation crates for sows, are arguably the most contentious pig handling practices still used today in North America. In Europe, the top-down parliamentary approach of enacting legislation has forced hog farmers to change the way they work, or to go out of business. Like it or not, it was inevitable there, and the writing may be on the wall here as well.

Ter Beek’s pointed reflections on the hog sector are not only timely but critical for the industry to address, sooner than later.

Animal welfare cannot be taken lightly

Ter Beek’s views as an overseas magazine editor seemed to hit the mark even with some Canadian producers who are ahead of the curve when it comes to animal care, such as the panelists who took part in the ‘Welfare’ breakout session at the 2022 Banff Pork Seminar.

Last year, the National Farm Animal Care Council (NFACC) made the decision to delay the implementation of an earlier amendment to the group’s Code of Practice for the Care and Handling of Pigs, requiring all compliant hog barns to be converted to group sow housing. The initial deadline was 2024, which has since been pushed to 2029. All new barns constructed since 2014 have had this requirement, but whether building a new barn or converting an existing one, large capital costs can discourage producers from taking the next step, even with a looming moratorium inching closer.

When Daryl Possberg of Polar Pork set out to make the transition, in 2016, he began by retrofitting one-third of his sow space. After a successful pilot to evaluate how the new system might work, he took a phased approach by safely moving animals to an off-site farm while construction was underway, over a series of weeks. All things considered, he estimates the cost to be around $100 per sow.

“This is money well-spent,” said Possberg. “There’s value in getting this done in a tight timeline.”

A lack of profitability in the past half-decade is usually mentioned as a reason that conversion is not feasible, at present. Fears of compromising biosecurity, losing productivity or needing additional space are other hurdles. These are valid concerns, but as the clock continues to tick, it is incumbent upon producers and packers to find solutions.

Indeed, Maple Leaf Agri-Farms – supporting production for Canada’s highest-capacity hog slaughter facility in Brandon, Manitoba – has already fully converted to group sow housing. The transition was completed only a few months ago, and it would be hard for anyone to argue it is a bad look for the company. Rather, the opposite.

“There’s very little metal in the system. There’s great view lines – great to observe the sows and wonderful for visitors, who really enjoy seeing that sort of thing,” said Neil Booth, Production Manager, Maple Leaf Agri-Farms. “It’s great for those sows to come say ‘hi’ every day. You feel as though they appreciate you and want you to be around.”

Maple Leaf began planning its group housing conversion more than a decade ago, well before NFACC amended the pig code. While NFACC’s codes are voluntary, not legally binding – a popular talking point among animal activists – the code is a stipulation of commercial hog production under the Canadian Quality Assurance (CQA) and Animal Care Assessment (ACA) programs, and the incoming Canadian Pork Excellence (CPE) program.

Without certification and validation under quality assurance programs, producers are unable to market hogs through meat packers who are overseen by the Canadian Food Inspection Agency (CFIA). The federally inspected system represents practically all commercially raised pork in Canada, most of which is exported. By removing a farmer’s ability to participate in the federal value chain, his or her operation would be effectively ended overnight – not a particularly attractive outcome for producers, who are heavily invested in their businesses. Critics, however, almost never have a financial stake in the matter – just an opinion about it. Despite the industry’s and government’s due diligence, backlash still abounds, in some cases.

Yolande Seddon, a researcher with the University of Saskatchewan, is a recognized expert in sow welfare, and, like Ter Beek, brings a thoughtful perspective that is unclouded by personal gain.

“In other areas of the world where hard deadlines have been set, there is evidence to suggest that has only resulted in a contraction of the industry,” said Seddon. “It seems a lot more mediated if we can support producers to have a reasonable extension.”

Does a contraction of the industry matter to those outside the industry? That depends on the level of comfort consumers have with relying on imports to fill potential voids. Canadian retailers have no obligation to source Canadian pork, but for as long as pork demand exists, meat coolers will continue to be filled with product that may or may not be Canadian. Cost-competitiveness helps ensure Canadian pork ends up with Canadian retailers, rather than meat coming from the U.S., Mexico, Brazil or other suppliers who are always looking for greater global market share.

“It is worth noting that supporting an industry to continue making progress on conversion will lead to improved animal welfare in the long run,” said Seddon. “If we encourage a contraction of the industry, that production is always absorbed elsewhere in the world, typically where cost of production and animal welfare standards are lower.”

While it is helpful when consumers understand this dilemma, it is no guarantee of sympathy for producers who are struggling to make the conversion. Moreover, convincing an increasingly skeptical public that the industry is committed to positive change has become a significant obstacle.

The Canadian Pork Council (CPC) predicts that half of all commercial barns in Canada will be converted to group sow housing by year’s end, but approaching a very high degree of compliance remains a lofty target. If the target is not met within the next six years, producers will undoubtedly be forced out of the industry, which will result in pork’s loss and other proteins’ gain, whether animal- or plant-based. The slippery slope is likely not worth testing out, even for the sure-footed.

Self-preservation requires self-sacrifice

‘The customer is always right.’ Well, not always, especially when it comes to the nitty gritty, technical aspects of a business, including pig and pork production. But even if the customer is not ‘right,’ he or she stands between the farmer, packer, retailer and his or her hard-earned dollar. It is the same dollar that we all cherish, regardless of our beliefs.

Every farmer raises animals with the best of intentions in mind, and despite the noise made by activists, an extensive and complex network of people, policies and other practices act as effective checks and balances. Raising animals for food, this is a condition the industry has grown to live with.

At the end of the day, financial pressures on producers are inhibiting change, but for most consumers, only the pork price tag matters. Whether the Canadian pork industry sinks or swims does not specifically affect most people, much as we would like them to identify with our plight. For long-term sector sustainability to be realized, the industry would do well to shift its perspective, in some cases, to align with ever-changing consumer perceptions more closely. Foolish pride cannot be the weight that holds us back beyond profits.

Is that easy? No. Does it always make sense? No. Is it affordable? Not yet. Is it helpful? Probably. Should the industry be confident that it is entirely possible? That is hard to say. But one thing that is clear, is that the answer might be looking back at us in the mirror.