Living soils, the best genetics and capable plant scientists quietly determine the future of Canadian crop production.
We’re very good at measuring what comes out the other end. We measure yield. We count new varieties. We track research dollars, graduates, acres and exports. These numbers are important because they tell us what the system produced. What they do not necessarily tell us is whether the system will be capable of producing it again.

That distinction kept surfacing in several stories we published this week. Together, they point to a blind spot in how we evaluate agricultural progress: we tend to measure the harvest while paying far less attention to the capacity beneath it.
Consider soil health. A field can produce an acceptable crop while its underlying capacity is quietly deteriorating. Compaction may be restricting roots. Aggregate stability may be weakening. Water may be running off rather than infiltrating. Biological activity may be declining.
Yield alone might not reveal any of that, at least not immediately.
That is why Kevin Elmy’s seven simple tests for measuring soil health are more significant than they first appear. Digging a shovel into the ground, examining roots, counting earthworms or testing how soil aggregates hold together are ways of looking beyond this year’s output.
They help answer a more consequential question: is this soil becoming more capable or less capable?
The same question should be asked of plant breeding.
In the latest episode of On the Brink, Peter “Wheat Pete” Johnson warns against the phrase “We have always done it this way.” After 41 years of advocating for wheat, he still sees enormous room to improve yield, disease resistance and drought tolerance.
But his message is not simply that breeders need to produce better genetics.
He compares farming to auto racing. Give several drivers the same car, fuel and tires, and they will not all finish together. The machine matters, but so does the person using it. That is why initiatives such as the Great Lakes Yield Enhancement Network are valuable: they allow growers to compare results, identify differences and learn from one another.
That kind of learning is itself a form of agricultural capacity.
A new variety has value, but so does the network that helps farmers understand how to use it. A trial produces data, but its greater value may be the questions that data inspires. Progress occurs when genetics, management and human curiosity begin reinforcing one another.
Wheat Pete’s On the Brink episode is ultimately about preserving that willingness to learn. What got us here will not get us there because agriculture’s challenges are changing faster than inherited practices can answer them.
But there is another layer to this.
Better genetics do not simply appear. Someone has to develop them.
That brings us to Ben Erickson, a young scientist who joined Agriculture and Agri-Food Canada’s soybean breeding program after graduating from the University of Guelph. When federal research cuts were announced, the uncertainty helped lead him back to university. He is now at McGill studying durable resistance to white mould in soybeans.
Erickson’s story is not primarily about one career decision. It is about whether Canada recognizes scientific talent as part of its productive infrastructure. We understand that a neglected research facility may eventually close. We are less accustomed to thinking of a young scientist’s career in the same way.
Yet the principle is similar. Capacity must be maintained before it is urgently needed. Once a researcher leaves the field — or leaves Canada — the loss may not appear in next year’s yield statistics. It may take years before we notice the variety that was never developed, the disease problem that took longer to solve or the breeding program that no longer had enough experienced people to continue.
That is the common thread running through these stories.
Healthy soil is stored capacity. A skilled farmer is stored capacity. A functioning research program is stored capacity. So is a young scientist who can see a future for themselves within it.
None of these assets can be judged only by what they produced this year.
We need to become better at recognizing what lies beneath its visible successes. That means measuring biological function before yield declines, strengthening learning networks before knowledge becomes fragmented and creating opportunities for young researchers before they decide their future lies somewhere else.
The harvest tells us what our agricultural system did. The soil, the people and the institutions tell us what it may still be capable of doing.


