I’m getting to the end of breeding season. At this point in the year, if you leave it any longer, you’ll be calving well into May – and that’s not fun.

It’s also the time of year where you get an idea of which cows won’t make it through another milking season. Breeding can be frustrating – there are often cows you want to keep, but for whatever reason, they just don’t go into calf.

On every dairy farm, your best cow’s successor needs to be as good as she was, if not better. Your replacements need to come from good stock, be healthy, have a decent temperament, good fertility and, ultimately, produce the goods. I wonder if all of this went through my father’s head when he was considering his own successor?

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My own journey to becoming ‘the successor’ was long and complicated. My starting point was probably different from most other farmers, because I didn’t have the slightest interest in farming. At one point in my life, I got so far away from the farm that if you were living in the North Pole, you’d be closer to it than I was. I always knew my brother was better suited. It made sense that he would be the one to take things on.

Unfortunately, when my brother was ready to take on the farm, he and my father weren’t on the same book, let alone the same page. I never saw their falling out coming, as I was away doing my own thing. After a few years of them working together, things just blew up, and because they are both very proud people, the rift never got repaired. This was a difficult time for the whole family and hard on both of them. I should have seen it coming, but it’s only on reflection – after so many years have passed – that I see what went wrong.

When it comes to a smooth succession, both parties need to be ready to act. Even though my dad was in his early sixties at the time, he was still doing most of the work. He hadn’t slowed down and wasn’t ready to stop. On the other hand, my brother was bursting to get going; and make his own decisions.

There also needs to be mutual respect. Regardless of how big an idea you might have, you still need to be able to listen to the 40-plus years of experience from the farmer in front of you. Equally, an experienced farmer should support the young person coming up and provide room for them to have their wins and make their own mistakes.

It’s important to have a formalised plan in place for a smooth succession. At the end of the day, the farm is a business. If it was any other kind of company, there would be a plan. My father and brother never sat down to work things out – my brother assumed it would just happen, and my father carried on like he didn’t need to make the decision any time soon.

At the end of the day, the farm is a business. If it was any other kind of company, there would be a plan

In their situation, outside counsel trained in farming succession should have stepped in to mediate. For whatever reason, neither of them attempted to use a professional to help things along. Lastly, you need to agree on a timeline together. Set down, in writing, all stages up to the final sign-over. It doesn’t need to be all in one go. You can set a path over a number of years until both parties are comfortable with the arrangement. Not having a plan drove my brother crazy, because he was trying to map out his future and never knew when his time on the farm would properly begin.

After my brother left, the farming burden fell to me. In my case however, the timing worked out better with my father; and I used every available support to make it work. I started by convincing my wife we needed to give up on our other dreams and promised her a good future on the farm. Then, I worked a few hard years beside my father.

Finally, I was ready to engage with my farm advisor to draw up a succession partnership. I got our accountant, who we have worked with for many years, to walk us through a plan as a mediator, and once we were both happy, we set out a timeline. Then, we sat down with our solicitor and signed the agreements.

I still remember that day. Our solicitor turned to my father and jokingly asked, “what do you want to charge him?” My father replied, “€1,” laughing. I just smiled and thought to myself, “Who succeeded who here?”

*This column is part of the Irish Farmers Journal Succession Series 2025.