Colorado’s agricultural landscape has undergone a dramatic transformation in recent years, and the scale of the change is difficult to ignore. Between 2017 and 2022, Colorado lost more farmland than any other state in the country, shedding roughly 1.6 million acres and watching more than 3,000 farms close their gates. The decline is not the result of a single force but rather a convergence of pressures that have made it increasingly difficult for producers to remain on the land. The story of this loss is as much about economics and climate as it is about the shifting identity of a rapidly growing state.

Farmers across Colorado have been grappling with persistent drought and shrinking water supplies, a challenge that strikes at the heart of agricultural viability in a semi‑arid region. Years of reduced snowpack, hotter summers, and declining river flows have made irrigation more expensive and less reliable. Many producers have been forced to fallow fields, reduce herd sizes, or abandon certain crops altogether. Water scarcity alone has pushed some operations past the point of sustainability, especially smaller family farms that lack the financial cushion to absorb repeated losses.

Economic pressures have compounded these environmental challenges. Producers have faced volatile commodity prices, rising fuel and fertilizer costs, and the lingering effects of tariffs that disrupted export markets. Labor shortages and higher payroll expenses have added another layer of strain. Acting Agriculture Commissioner Robert Sakata has emphasized that these combined headwinds have created an environment where even well‑established operations struggle to break even. For many families, selling the land has become the only viable financial decision.

Livestock producers have also endured outbreaks of animal diseases and the growing threat of crop pests, both of which have been intensified by changing climate conditions. These issues increase operating costs and uncertainty, making long‑term planning more difficult. At the same time, new state regulations—ranging from environmental standards to labor rules—have introduced additional expenses and administrative burdens. While many of these policies aim to improve working conditions or protect natural resources, they have nonetheless added pressure to an already strained sector.

Development pressure has played a decisive role as well. Colorado’s population growth, particularly along the Front Range, has driven up land values and accelerated the conversion of agricultural acreage into housing, commercial centers, and industrial sites. For aging farmers without successors, or for families facing mounting debt, selling to developers can feel like the only realistic option. Once converted, this land is permanently removed from agricultural use, and much of what has been lost in recent years includes some of the state’s most productive acreage.

Colorado’s position as the nation’s leader in farmland loss is the result of all these forces acting at once. A drying climate, a booming population, rising costs, regulatory shifts, and global market instability have created a landscape where farming is increasingly difficult to sustain. The consequences reach far beyond rural communities. Losing farmland affects food security, water management, wildlife habitat, and the cultural identity of a state long shaped by its agricultural roots.

As lawmakers and agricultural leaders debate how to stabilize the sector, the urgency is clear. Without meaningful intervention—whether through water policy reforms, land‑preservation incentives, or support for new and beginning farmers—Colorado risks watching even more of its agricultural foundation slip away. The story of the past five years is a warning, but it is also a call to decide what kind of future the state wants to cultivate.