Southern Peanut Growers Conference 2026: Progress, Technology, and the Next Generation

Panama City Beach, FL |

For peanut farmers, the future isn’t some distant idea. It’s something they plan for every single day — navigating rising costs, shifting weather, and a constant stream of new technology. The decisions made today will help determine what the next generation of peanut farming looks like. And while the challenges are real, so is the progress.

That progress was on full display at the 2026 Southern Peanut Growers Conference, where researchers, producers, and industry leaders gathered to share the data, the tools, and the hard-won knowledge that is pushing peanut production to levels once thought unreachable.

YIELDS THAT WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO BE POSSIBLE

“Look at where we’ve been from 2012 all the way out to 2025 — significant improvements in yield every year,” said Marshall Lamb of the USDA-ARS National Peanut Research Laboratory. “I asked one of our elder gentlemen earlier: back in the early nineties, did you ever think the United States would be averaging right at four thousand pounds to the acre? And he said, ‘No, I would have never believed that.’ But we’ve done it. It’s good research, good extension, our private sector partners, and good farmers implementing technology on their farms.”

Technology is poised to take things even further. Simer Virk, Precision Agriculture Specialist at Auburn University, says the next wave is already approaching.

“Autonomous operations and machinery in agriculture — it’s a big thing right now, and we’re going to start seeing a lot more autonomous tractors and implements over the next three to five years,” Virk said. “Hopefully the field will continue to grow and, with all the technology excitement, even bring some younger farming generations back on the farms or help them adopt new technologies.”

NOT A SILVER BULLET — AN EDGE

After two days on the ground in Panama City Beach, one thing stood out: there was no single conversation happening. One room focused on disease management, another on markets, another on new equipment. But no one was looking for a miracle fix. They were looking for an edge — whether that came from a new peanut variety, a better spray program, more accurate weather data, or simply learning from another grower’s experience. In today’s farm economy, sometimes the smallest advantage makes the biggest difference.

TAKING CARE OF THE FARMER, TOO

While most conversations in Panama City centered on production, markets, and profitability, this year’s keynote speaker took the discussion in a different direction. Florida farmer and national mental health advocate Marshal Sewell reminded growers that during tough times, taking care of themselves is just as important as taking care of the farm.

“I think we’ve actually been making progress in terms of having more conversations around these difficult and even uncomfortable topics, and we need to continue having those open conversations — being upfront about the reality of our situations, understanding what one another is going through, and checking in on each other,” Sewell said. “It is a beautiful life, but it also comes with challenges, difficulties, and stresses. Who better understands those than other farmers and other farm families? So really rallying around that and joining together — remembering that we can support one another.”

RESPECT FOR WHAT CAME BEFORE

Eventually, all of the big-picture discussions find their way back to the farm — where every decision has a cost, every acre matters, and every generation hopes to leave the land better than they found it. For fifth-generation Georgia farmer Adam Curles of Mitchell County, that responsibility is personal.

“There are many things my granddad did, many things my dad did — it goes back through the generations before them. There are so many pieces to the puzzle that got us to where we are, and I have a lot of respect for that because there was a lot of hard work, a lot of determination, a lot of money spent,” Curles said. “We really need to respect what the generations before us have done, because if it wasn’t for that, we wouldn’t have anything to go with in the first place.”

Like so many young producers, Curles is learning to balance that tradition with innovation — respecting the lessons passed down, while embracing the research and new ideas that will keep the farm strong for the future.

“Every year is a different challenge. You’ve got different storms, insects, diseases — what happens this year isn’t going to happen next year. So there’s always this big hope that next year is going to be better,” Curles said. “And it always is that way.”

The challenges facing peanut farmers aren’t going away. But after spending time with the people helping shape this industry, one thing became clear: the future of peanut farming won’t be built by any one discovery, any one policy, or any one conference. It will be built by farmers willing to learn, adapt, and keep moving forward.

Madison County’s Russ Moon Says His Farm Isn’t for Sale — and Neither Is His Family’s Legacy

Colbert, GA |

Where Moon Farms Country Market now stands in Madison County, Russ Moon’s great-grandmother once had her home. The road took it out in 1997, but the land itself has never left the family. As the fourth generation to farm this ground, Moon carries that history with him every day — and he’s fighting to make sure it doesn’t end with him.

“When you’re a farmer, agriculture is just in you. I want to see it thrive. I want to see the next generation come on and pass it on to them,” Moon said. “So much of what we do is looking forward to the next generation — and that’s so important to me, that I pass it on to my kids and hopefully they’re going to do it too.”

A STATE THAT’S CHANGING FAST

Over the course of his farming life, Moon has watched Georgia transform around him — and the pressure that comes with that growth is impossible to ignore.

“It’s the amount of people. The amount of people moving into this state, this area — it’s definitely growing. The traffic on the roads, the amount of people looking for houses — that’s what’s driving the development,” Moon said. “I know it’s coming, but the amount of people in this state has really grown over the last ten years.”

That growth has introduced new concerns beyond housing and development. Among the newest: the rise of massive data centers consuming enormous amounts of power and water in rural parts of the state.

“What’s the quality of water they’re producing? None of us really know the impact of the data centers,” Moon said. “In one sense, we all need them — but nobody wants one right here next to them. And that’s kind of where we’re at.”

ONCE IT’S PAVED, IT DOESN’T COME BACK

Georgia has long been known as the number one state in which to do business — but for farmers, that growth comes with difficult questions. Every year, productive farmland disappears, replaced by neighborhoods, warehouses, and data centers. And once that land is paved over, it rarely comes back.

When asked why he doesn’t simply sell — take the money and walk away — Moon’s answer was immediate.

“My life’s not for sale. This is my passion. It was my grandparents’ passion, my father’s passion, and hopefully my kids’ passion. That’s not for sale right now — and I hope it’s never for sale,” he said.

BEHIND THE EIGHT BALL ON CONSERVATION

Moon is a vocal supporter of the Georgia Farmland Conservation Fund, a program he believes is essential — but one he worries may already be falling behind the pace of development.

“We can have growth as we preserve as much farmland as we can — I think we’ve got to have both. You can’t stop growth, I get it, but we’ve got to preserve what we can when it comes to farmland,” Moon said. “We’re kind of behind the eight ball on that. We’re several years behind where we need to be because the growth is outpacing this program that we just started. I feel like we’re a few years behind, and hopefully we’re going to catch up.”

BORROWED FROM THE NEXT GENERATION

For Moon, the weight of what came before him and what comes after is never far from his mind. He thinks about his father and grandfather, the sacrifices they made, and the obligation he now carries.

“I wouldn’t be doing what I’m doing right now without my father and my grandfather — and we’ve got to remember that and hopefully pass it on a lot better than we received it,” Moon said. “We are borrowing it from the next generation. Land prices are kind of outrunning what we can afford to buy now, so we just have to try to pay for what we’ve already purchased and maybe do things with fewer acres.”

As for what he hopes future grandchildren will see when they look out over this land one day, Moon’s answer speaks to something deeper than crop yields or commodity prices.

“I hope agriculture is just engraved in them, just like it is in me — that desire. Because it’s not easy,” Moon said. “It goes back to passion. It takes passion to get up every day and fight through the droughts and the low prices and the adversity that hits us — and it hits us quite often. It’s not just row crop farmers. It’s chicken farmers, cattle farmers. It’s all of us.”

From Dairy to Sod: Georgia Farm Bureau’s Bernard Sims Reflects on a Lifetime of Farming

Ringgold, GA |

Around here, the day still starts with a ride across the farm. There are pastures to check, land to look over, and work that never really goes away. For Bernard Sims, this has been home for decades. And while one leadership chapter is coming to a close, he says the timing was right.

“My mind’s good, but my body’s beginning to fail me. It was time to get out of the way and let somebody younger come on and take care of it,” Sims said.

STILL ON THE FARM — JUST IN A DIFFERENT ROLE

But stepping away from a board position doesn’t mean Bernard is stepping away from agriculture. The farm is still very much a part of his daily life — even if these days, he’s quick to point out, he’s more or less an onlooker.

“I have a son that actually runs the operation now. I just work with them wherever they need me. If they need me to drive something, that’s what I do,” Sims said. “Physically, I’m not able to do as much as I used to — by far.”

BUILT ON THE FARM, NOT IN A BOARDROOM

That work ethic was forged early. After a couple years of college and a stint working in a foundry, Sims decided there was a better way to live — and came back to start dairying. That decision shaped nearly four decades of his life, defined by early mornings, long hours, and work that doesn’t take days off.

“When I started, we were raising about sixty-five calves. And as time went on, you either had to get bigger or get out — and now the dairies are huge. The mechanization’s come along to help them too,” Sims said.

While many know Bernard Sims for his years of service with Georgia Farm Bureau, his foundation was never built in a meeting room or around a board table. It was built here — through early mornings, long days, and a life spent doing the work himself.

A PIVOT TO SOD

Eventually, Bernard and his family made the move out of dairy and into sod farming. Part of that decision was business, part of it was timing, and part of it was watching the world around his farm slowly start to change.

“We began to get so many neighbors. We had never had any problems, but it seemed like it was coming,” Sims said. “And I felt like it was time for us to get into something else while we still could manage it ourselves — without being forced or told what to do with it. I had two sons with me, and to support three families, I didn’t think we had enough land at the time to do it with traditional farming. The only thing I could see was sod farming — and it has worked out well for us.”

STILL PRODUCTIVE, STILL PASSIONATE

Still, Bernard worries about what farming is becoming — not because agriculture isn’t moving forward, but because the farming life he knew is getting harder to find. Even so, the work itself remains a source of deep satisfaction.

“I just love being out here on the farm. I see so many young men coming in here to talk, and they look at me and say, ‘You still working?’ And I say, ‘Yeah — the good Lord said be productive. And that’s what I’m trying to do,'” Sims said with a laugh.

For Bernard Sims, the chapter titles may be changing, but the story — the one written in early mornings, long days, and a lifetime of love for the land — is far from over.

GFB Young Farmers Chair Garrett Hurley Has Never Strayed Far From Home — or the Farm

Lyerly, GA |

For most people, life takes them far from where they started — a different town, a different career, a different path. For Garrett Hurley, home has never been very far away at all.

“My house is actually on my childhood farm. The farm I live on has been in our family for five or six generations. I’ve actually moved once, and it was across a cow pasture,” said Hurley, Chair of Georgia Farm Bureau’s Young Farmers and Ranchers Committee. “I’ve been within about 200 yards of the same place my entire life.”

A DREAM THAT STARTED IN THE LIVING ROOM

Northwest Georgia may not look like the sprawling row crop country of South Georgia, but to Hurley, the patchwork of fields and tree lines that make up his corner of the state has always been exactly where he wanted to be.

“Riding down some back roads up here in Northwest Georgia, it might look a little different. We may not be wall-to-wall fields — we’ve got plenty of trees packed in and we’ve got little patches, as we like to call them,” Hurley said. “But I can never really remember a time where I wasn’t a farm kid. If I wasn’t out on the farm with my dad, I was in the yard playing with farm toys and tractors. Having my own farm was always the goal — to come back and farm for my career.”

That goal never wavered, even when other opportunities came knocking.

“There was one point in my life that I was going to go to trade school. I ended up talking myself out of that and came straight back to the farm,” Hurley said. “Now that I’m doing it, it’s the greatest blessing ever.”

CHALLENGES FACING THE NEXT GENERATION

As Chair of GFB’s Young Farmers and Ranchers Committee, Hurley has a front-row seat to the obstacles facing young producers across the state — and two themes come up over and over again: capital and land access.

“One thing that just keeps coming up is the availability of capital. Things just cost so much — trying to buy equipment to get started, or trying to buy cattle now that prices are at all-time highs,” Hurley said. “But also the availability of land. A lot of times a piece of land comes up for rent and the younger person gets overlooked. The younger generation may not do things the way the older generation did back in the eighties, but a lot of times new ideas aren’t a terrible thing. I would encourage the older generation to give some of the younger guys a chance.”

BUILDING SOMETHING TO PASS ON

When Hurley talks about the future, he isn’t just talking about his own farm. He’s thinking about what comes next — and whether the life he’s built can be passed down the same way it was passed to him.

“I hope that in twenty years I can be farming full-time with one or both of my kids. The end goal is to have a sustainable business that my children can come back into,” Hurley said. “I want them to know that if they don’t want to come back, we’ll still have the land and they’ll always have somewhere to call home. But if they do want to come back, I hope I’m in a position to help them — with financial resources as well as years of knowledge — and just present them with the opportunity.”

In the end, Hurley’s story isn’t really about cotton or cattle or even farming. It’s about home — and a dream that never took him far from it.

Bulloch County Farmer Will Anderson’s Story Is One of Endurance, Faith, and Family

Register, GA |

At first glance, Will Anderson’s farming operation looks like a lot of South Georgia farms. There’s cotton, peanuts, poultry houses, and long hours trying to keep everything moving. But spend a day with him here in Register, and it becomes clear there’s a lot more riding on this farm than just this year’s crop.

“We farm mainly cotton and peanuts, a little bit of corn. We’ve got eight broiler houses with Claxton Poultry. I’m also a quarter owner in Candler Peanut — we buy for Golden Peanut, do processing for them, and sell CPI peanut seed,” said Anderson, a Bulloch County row crop farmer.

RECOGNITION, AND A LITTLE DISCOMFORT

It’s the kind of operation that takes years to build — and recently it’s earned Anderson recognition, including stewardship honors and awards within the peanut industry. But for him, the attention still feels a little uncomfortable.

“We try to take care of the land like we’re supposed to — do soil samples, do a good job raising chickens,” Anderson said. “There have been a lot of good growers, a lot better than me, who’ve gotten that award over the years. It was an honor to get it.”

A FAMILY FARM TESTED EARLY

The humility makes more sense once you understand the road it took to get here. Anderson comes from a multi-generational farm family built through years of hard work — and eventually, hard times. His father returned home after college to farm, but was later diagnosed with multiple sclerosis at a young age. As his health declined, Will found himself stepping into a much bigger role far sooner than expected.

“He started getting sick physically pretty bad when I was probably 18 or 19. You could tell he physically couldn’t do what he needed to do on the farm,” Anderson said. “And during that time — that was in the late nineties — it was a really bad time to farm. Three or four years of consecutive drought and low prices.”

For many operations, that kind of combination is devastating. Low commodity prices, bad weather, and a family health crisis all hitting at once. But somehow, the farm kept going.

“I reckon it goes back to your relationship with the Lord. If he wants you to keep doing it, you’ll keep doing it,” Anderson said. “I’m old enough now to look back and see where times were pretty rough and you came out of it — whether through commodity prices changing or just good yields. Things can change pretty quickly in farming. Cotton was 64 cents three months ago and now it’s 85 cents. That’s how fast it moves. It honestly needs to be about 95 cents, but I think you can look back and see that things can change. Right now though, it’s pretty bad. Our inputs are just too high.”

THE NEXT GENERATION

Even as technology continues to change the way farmers operate, Anderson says the mission really hasn’t changed much at all — keep the farm moving forward, and hopefully create an opportunity for the next generation to do the same.

“My son graduated from high school a couple years ago, and that’s all he’d ever wanted to do. He’s back here now, so hopefully that gives you a little pump — we can keep going and make it work,” Anderson said.

Which may be why, after all the years, all the pressure, and all the uncertainty that comes with farming, the thing Anderson sounds most proud of isn’t an award. It’s endurance.

“There are a lot of good farmers that are not still in business. I’m proud that we’re still moving in the right direction, and I’m proud that my son has been able to come back,” he said. “Whenever you can keep going, it’s a blessing.”

GIVING BACK TO THE INDUSTRY

Beyond his own operation, Anderson serves in a number of agricultural leadership roles across the state, including the Georgia Conservation Tillage Alliance, where he continues to advocate for conservation and research-based farming practices — carrying the same commitment to stewardship that has defined his farm for generations.