As Earth heats up, the growing frequency and intensity of disasters like catastrophic storms and heat waves are becoming a mounting problem for the people who grow the planet’s food. Warming is no longer solely eroding agricultural productivity and food security in distant nations or arid climates. It’s throttling production in the United States.

Farmers and ranchers across the country lost at least $20.3 billion in crops and rangeland to extreme weather last year, according to a new Farm Bureau report that crowned the 2024 hurricane season “one of the most destructive in U.S. history” and outlined a long list of other climate-fueled impacts. 

Texas experienced the highest losses for the third year in a row. Extreme drought, excessive heat, and high winds took out more than $3.4 billion worth of crops like cotton and wheat, and damaged rangeland. Flooding cost Minnesota some $1.45 billion in corn, soybeans, and forage, among other crops. California endured nearly all the same weather challenges as the south-central U.S. and the upper Midwest, costing its agricultural sector $1.4 billion.

And then there was the one-two punch of hurricanes Helene and Milton that tore through the Southeast. Georgia’s agricultural sector sustained over $459 million in losses as Helene wiped out crops like peanuts, pecans, and cotton. The same storm destroyed some $174 million worth of tobacco, blueberries, and apples in North Carolina. Florida’s ag industry lost nearly twice that to the two hurricanes, adding to the problems pummeling citrus production, all of them caused by previous storms, water scarcity, and disease.

Those tallies are but a snapshot of the economic impact of last year’s disasters on U.S. farm production, as they only account for damages wrought by major weather events such as billion-dollar disasters. They also don’t figure in most livestock or infrastructure losses following Helene and Milton, which significantly hike up total agricultural economic impacts for states like Georgia and Florida. 

By the end of the year, farmers from coast to coast were left with diminished income, unpaid bills, and little recourse. Those financial stressors were compounded by inflation, surging labor and production costs, disruptions to global supply and demand, and increased price volatility. So in December, Congress authorized nearly $31 billion in emergency assistance to help struggling producers. 

Last week, the USDA opened those disaster aid applications and said it was expediting disbursements. But there’s a catch: The funding pot the agency is gearing up to distribute makes up just a third of the assistance Congress approved.

That $10 billion is intended for farmers growing traditional commodities, such as corn, cotton, and soybeans, and is available to those who experienced most any kind of loss, not just those stemming from extreme weather. Payouts are determined by multiplying a flat commodity rate, based on calculated economic loss, with acres planted. It significantly limits eligibility, said Billy Hackett, policy analyst at the National Sustainable Agriculture Coalition, and funnels help away from smaller farmers into the pockets of industrial-scale operations. Fewer than 6 percent of U.S. farms sold more than three-fourths of all agricultural products between 2017 and 2022. “[The program] works exceedingly well for the largest farms, but leaves behind smaller farms,” said Hackett.

The USDA has not yet said when or how the remaining $21 billion will be distributed. That funding was, in fact, allocated for producers impacted by weather-related disasters in 2023 and 2024. But unlike the package structured for commodity growers, which had a 90-day timeline for implementation, Hackett noted that the USDA doesn’t necessarily have to act quickly on it. The American Relief Act that authorized the funding gives the USDA 120 days to begin reporting on its implementation progress, but no hard deadline for actually disbursing money. That means the $21 billion program isn’t on the same ticking congressional clock. 

Ultimately, lawmakers did not provide clear reasoning for why they split the pot and crafted different disbursement mechanisms, with one measure of relief pushed through over the other. Hackett noted that it could be a reflection of who policymakers in Washington are hearing from most: “Who is the loudest? Who has the most meetings? It doesn’t always reflect who is in the most need.” 

That lack of a deadline also doesn’t mean the agency shouldn’t move quickly, said Hackett. The $21 billion program is primed to help many more farmers, he said, particularly those that are underserved and passed over by other federal programs such as crop insurance. Farms without crop insurance tend to be small and medium-sized, while the bulk of larger farms have coverage. Speciality crop farms — those producing fruits, vegetables, nuts, horticulture, and nursery crops — are also less likely to be covered than those that produce commodities. Just 15 percent were insured in 2022, compared to nearly two-thirds of oilseed and grain farms. 

Hackett worries that the application process may end up being unduly demanding or complicated, and that small or uninsured operators and historically excluded farmers that have faced issues with federal disaster relief eligibility and coverage in the past will be shut out. That has been the case with previous supplemental disaster relief programs, including the Wildfire, Hurricane, and Indemnity Program enacted in 2017 under the first Trump administration. 

In a briefing last week, Brooke Appleton, the deputy undersecretary for farm production and conservation, told reporters that more information on the $21 billion program should be “coming soon.” This followed remarks Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins made late last month when she noted the agency would hit the congressional deadline of March 21 for sending out the full $31 billion — despite that deadline not applying to two-thirds of the money. The USDA did not respond to Grist’s request for comment. 

Meanwhile, farmers like Daniel Spatz are left wondering what’s next. Last spring, he lost roughly $20,000 because “intense” rain waterlogged his central Arkansas fields, leaving him unable to plant 70 acres of rice. The year before, a prolonged drought cost him much more. Spatz is among the 13 percent or so of farmers with crop insurance, but recouped no more than $2,000 after the heavy rains. He’s unsure if he’s eligible for this disaster aid program, which he sees as another sign that the Trump administration is supporting large farmers “at the expense” of small operators like himself. Above all, he’s concerned about calamities yet to come. 

“It appears to me that we’re depending more and more on the government to bail us out of these climate-induced disasters,” he said. The USDA shelled out more than $16 billion to farmers from 2022 through 2024 for crops lost to extreme weather events alone. “My question to the Trump administration would be, ‘How much do we have to spend as a society, bailing out people, rebuilding and putting public funds into rescuing people, citizens? What does that price tag have to be before climate change is understood as real, and a public threat, a threat to our future?’”