Les Henry, a revered figure in Saskatchewan's agricultural community, has left an indelible mark on the farming landscape with his profound insights, practical wisdom, and sharp sense of humor that brought smiles as well as enlightenment. As someone who had the privilege of learning from him, both as a student and throughout my career, I feel compelled to reflect on his contributions to our understanding of farmland values and to honour the common-sense approach that was his hallmark—often delivered with a twinkle in his eye and a clever quip.
Les's work was characterized by a deep understanding of the land, forged through years of both academic rigor and hands-on experience. His articles, many of which were featured in Grainews, were more than just informative—they were a masterclass in how to think critically about farmland management. Whether he was discussing soil productivity, the economics of farm operations, or the ever-fluctuating land prices, Les always brought a grounded perspective that resonated with farmers across the Prairies. And he did so with a humor that made even the most complex topics accessible and enjoyable.
One of the key aspects of Les's writing was his ability to demystify the complex interplay between land value and farm income. He often emphasized the importance of viewing farmland not just as a static asset but as a dynamic component of the farming ecosystem, one that could be influenced by a myriad of factors ranging from soil health to market conditions. Les had a unique way of cutting through the noise and providing clear, actionable advice—advice that was always rooted in a deep respect for the farmer's way of life. He once joked that the only thing more unpredictable than the weather was the advice of a city-slicker economist on what your land should be worth.
His views on farmland values were particularly insightful. At a time when many were caught up in the rising prices and speculative nature of land investment, Les reminded us that the true value of farmland was in its ability to produce. He often cautioned against the dangers of over-leveraging, urging farmers to consider the long-term sustainability of their operations. "Remember," he’d say with a grin, "the bank is your friend—right up until it isn't."
Beyond his technical expertise, what set Les apart was his genuine passion for teaching and his unwavering commitment to the farming community. He was not just a professor or an extension specialist; he was a mentor, a guide, and a friend to countless farmers. His ability to connect with people, to understand their challenges, and to offer practical solutions made him a trusted voice in an industry that often grapples with uncertainty. And he had a knack for lightening the mood, quipping that "farming is the only profession where your office is outdoors, your neighbors are nosey, and your boss is Mother Nature herself."
As we continue to navigate the complexities of modern agriculture, the lessons Les Henry imparted remain as relevant as ever. His work reminds us that, at its core, farming is about stewardship—of the land, of resources, and of knowledge. Les's legacy is one of common sense, practicality, and a deep love for the land that he devoted his life to studying and improving. But let’s not forget his ability to make us laugh along the way. After all, as Les might have said, "If you can’t find humor in farming, you might as well plant a crop of despair."
In paying tribute to Les, we also acknowledge the profound impact he has had on our own lives and careers. His teachings have shaped not only how we approach farmland values but also how we think about the future of agriculture. For those of us who had the privilege of knowing him, Les Henry will always be a guiding light, illuminating the path forward with his wisdom, his wit, and his unwavering belief in the power of knowledge—served with a side of humor.
James Leslie (Les) Henry 1940 – 2024
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