
In the good old days – not last century but about a year ago – it was the done thing when you had bought your property portfolio in London and lorry loads of bubbly, a Ferrari and a ski chalet, to go Green in the country with your latest toy: a farm or three.
The fact that you didn’t know anything about matters-rural hardly mattered. There would be the Squire’s manor house where you could show off to your high-rolling chums, and that was the really important thing. Hedgies had become obsessed by the country. But what would they do with the real hedges?
Well, looking after their hedgerows and all the rest of their rolling acres didn’t really pose a problem. You didn’t have to worry about tilling or tending your land or having to cope with anything as boring as that. All you had to do was let out your land to a professional farming conglomerate who would pay you rent and look after it for you. If the conglomerate was generous it would sometimes cut you in on the profits too.
Naturally enough, as City boys became farmers’ boys, residential farm land prices started to rise. In fact, they rocketed. As the good times kicked off land soared from an average of £3000 an acre in the year 2000 to about £6500 an acre early in 2008 before most people had realised that the storm clouds were gathering.
But like everything else residential farm land has fallen back in value. The average price of an acre started to slip last year as the Great Crash began to kick in. It fell to about £5246 an acre and has dipped to around £4992 an acre. Will it keep falling? Yes, perhaps.
Professional farmers never had much time for the amateurs who had put prices up so much that the genuine Men of the Soil could never get a look in. There was always an underlying resentment by real farmers that so many of the City boys knew all about having their nose in the trough, but that was about as near as they got to farming habits.
But the real farmers’ time is coming. For all the moaning and groaning from traditional farmers about how they are poverty stricken (think about that; when did you last see a poor bookie or farmer?) many of them have got a lot of loot stashed away. Money and estates are usually passed down to farmers from previous generations. Most aren’t born with a silver tea spoon in their mouths. It’s more like an entire silver tea-service.
Real farmers are worried that they can’t get proper interest on their money. So, naturally enough, they are beginning to look at expanding their estates by buying more land. It’s estimated that the present yield on land is about 2.5 per cent. That’s not super-generous. But it’s more than they’d get if their money was rotting away in a deposit account.
And in fairness to some farmers, especially small hill farmers, they have had – and continue to have – an extremely difficult time for myriad reasons which range from European subsidised farming to the growth of continental imports and hard-eyed supermarket chains who continually tighten the screw on producers and suppliers.
Proper farmers – as opposed to make believe Sons of the Soil using their bonuses – are now giving the amateurs a run for their money. They are hoping for an increase in demand for food as population around the world continues to grow. Some of them, perhaps the more optimistic, also believe that food prices will have to rise. It must be said, though, that with revolutionary and controversial developments such as genetic modification over the horizon, higher food price arguments are not entirely convincing.
As bonuses disappear – and top City salaries are curbed – it will be interesting to see how many Johnny Come Lately farmers bought their rural spreads with borrowed money.
The highly geared – or those without jobs – might be forced into flogging off their farms.
After all, if it’s a choice between having to sell your main home (ask the Home Secretary, she’s an expert) or your toy in the country, or pulling your children out of school because of the cost of the fees, most would plump for chopping-in the rural pad. When that happens real farmers, those with soil under their nails, will snap up the bargains.
And there’s another incentive for buying farms and land. The pressure to develop on Green Belt land, and agricultural land, is now greater than at any time since the War (perhaps even the Boer War). Land which has been sacrosanct is being looked at covetously by planning departments and Central government.
It hasn’t happened yet. And the Great Crash has slowed down any such possibility. But farmers can be shrewd birds. In the future who can say what might happen?
If you could buy agricultural land cheaply – from a hard-pressed Bonus Boy who had over-stretched himself – you could be sitting on a fortune in the future if you managed to get planning permission to build on it.
There is, of course, a counter argument. Though there is huge pressure to step-up Britain’s house building programme, which lags way behind targets, some of Britain’s biggest developers ( and supermarkets) are being forced into selling their land banks. It is likely that that would be utilised ahead of any development of ordinary agricultural land.
In conclusion, farming land still looks a good buy. It could turn, one day, into a pot of gold, though nobody can say when. And even if it doesn’t, you can still bury your head down on the farm if the Great Crash makes everything else just too awful to bear.