The Battle Over Agrivoltaics: A Farming Community Divided
“Tell me that is a gorgeous country.” Dave Rogers, an Oregon farmer, gestures towards the lush fields of ryegrass, highlighting the beauty of the landscape. However, this picturesque view is at the center of a contentious debate.
Spanning a vast area of green, this land is earmarked for solar development by Hanwha Qcells, a Seoul-based company recognized for establishing the United States’ largest solar manufacturing facility in 2023. The planned Muddy Creek Energy Park, according to Rogers, will feature “a huge amount of construction, three miles of solar panels, a football field with hundreds of batteries.”
As we walk across the land, Rogers, clad in a plaid shirt, frequently pauses to point out local flora and fauna, reflecting his deep connection to the area. For two years, he’s been campaigning against the solar project, setting him against his neighbor, John Langdon.
Rogers and Langdon have a long history. Langdon, also a farmer, chose to lease his land for agrivoltaics, integrating solar panels with agricultural use—a move supported by several other landowners in the area. However, some locals, including Rogers, criticize this decision.
“The only local farmers who signed the [solar] lease,” Rogers claims, are “terrible, terrible farmers.” Despite their disagreements, both neighbors avoid directly naming each other during interviews, aware of their mutual involvement in the discussions.
Revisiting the site a week later, Langdon explains his vision to cultivate crops and graze sheep beneath the solar panels, aiming to sustain the family farm. As the sole landowner committed to agrivoltaics, he believes critics overstate the potential drawbacks.
“My brother and I feel a huge responsibility to not only take care of the farm, but to move it in the future for the next generation,” Langdon states. He actively promotes agrivoltaics through his website, Solar Saves Farms, where he shares insights with policymakers, emphasizing a “farmer-first” approach.
One industry proponent calls agrivoltaics the “single greatest opportunity for…land production in a generation.”
Conversely, Rogers, dedicated to conservation, worries about the project’s impact on the local ecosystem. He has transformed 750 acres into a bird sanctuary, promoting wildlife conservation alongside hunting. “There’s tens of thousands of waterfowl that use that area,” he warns of the proposed solar farm. “If they’re allowed to do this, it’s gone.”
Rogers’ group, Friends of Gap Road, campaigns actively against the project, brandishing signs throughout Linn County, Oregon. They argue that turning farmland into solar sites contradicts common sense, and their registered PAC supports local candidates favoring conservation efforts.
“This is a bipartisan issue,” says Troy Jones, director of Friends of Gap Road. They collaborate with groups like the historically left-leaning 1000 Friends of Oregon, both opposing the project.
Opposition to development has deep roots in Oregon’s Willamette Valley. The state enforces stringent land-use regulations to protect rural farmland, a legacy beginning with Governor Tom McCall’s advocacy in the late ‘60s. The 1973 Oregon Land Use Act, a result of this legacy, continues to regulate agricultural land conversion strictly.
An agrivoltaics project in Ohio was described by an opponent as “spitting in the face” of the county’s voters.
Langdon feels the opposition didn’t offer him a fair chance to present his perspective. “They all came out and immediately opposed the project,” he notes. Despite knowing many opponents personally, he never received a call from them.
While surveys indicate that a majority of farmers might be open to agrivoltaics, a significant 30 percent remain staunchly opposed. In Oregon, developments exceeding a dozen acres necessitate public input and compliance with numerous environmental and community benefits criteria.
This requirement has delayed Langdon’s solar project for three years. Langdon questions why external opinions should influence decisions on his property. “It kind of bothered me that everyone has an involvement or an opinion or perception,” he says. “This is not their business. It’s our property.”
The idea of integrating solar farms with agriculture, conceived in the 1980s by German researchers, aimed to alleviate poverty in sub-Saharan Africa. Though initially unfulfilled, Japanese scientists revisited the concept a decade ago, sparking global interest in agrivoltaics.
Unlike solar installations in arid regions, agrivoltaics in temperate zones like Oregon benefit from vegetation that cools the systems. While not all crops are suitable, some thrive under solar panels. Oregon State University’s research shows enhanced soil water retention under agrivoltaics, likening panels to “miniature greenhouses.”
As of 2024, over 600 agrivoltaics sites in the US generated 10 gigawatts of energy, sufficient to power 7.5 million homes. Despite rapid growth, the US trails behind China and France in agrivoltaics output.
Silicon Ranch, a rare American-owned solar firm, has embraced agrivoltaics, integrating it with regenerative farming in Georgia. Through collaborations, Silicon Ranch shifts from herbicide use to grazing management, injecting much-needed capital into rural areas.
Loran Shallenberger of Silicon Ranch views agrivoltaics as “the single greatest opportunity for sheep production and land production in a generation.” However, skepticism persists among farmers, wary of its impact on land and property values.
In Ohio, an agrivoltaics project faced backlash, deemed “spitting in the face” of local voters. Similar sentiments echo in Kansas, where a solar project was criticized for threatening community character.
Legal challenges against the Muddy Creek project cite potential harm to wildlife and property values, along with environmental risks. The lawyer representing opposition, James L. Buchal, is known for defending far-right figures, though his political ties were not the hiring reason, says Jones.
The concerns about battery fires, toxic metals, and soil damage, often raised by opponents, lack definitive evidence due to insufficient long-term studies. Battery fires, while publicized, are exceedingly rare.
USDA research suggests that agrivoltaics can maintain farmland productivity, and only a small fraction of farmland is needed to meet renewable energy goals. Initial studies show promising effects on soil quality. However, more research is necessary to understand long-term impacts.
Virginia Tech’s Lee Daniels emphasizes the need for more studies, particularly on toxic metal leaching from panels. His colleague, Ryan Stewart, notes that existing research indicates minimal risk unless panels are pulverized.
Daniels and Stewart are conducting a multiyear study to assess the environmental impacts of solar projects, stressing proper siting and management to prevent land degradation. Langdon plans to implement these best practices, including retaining topsoil.
“The land’s been here long before humans, and it’s going to be here for a long time,” Langdon reflects. “It may be in different uses or look different, but my brother and I truly look at it like we are stewards of the land.”
Without effective management, land productivity can suffer. Hanwha Renewables assures minimal impact through its project plan, which includes preserving topsoil.
“I think we can do solar well,” Daniels asserts. “I think we can minimize impacts. We need to move away from fossil fuels.”
When discussing research with Rogers, he acknowledges his lack of scientific expertise but remains wary of turning his land into a “lab.”
Despite potential benefits, Rogers is resistant to any change that isn’t aligned with farming or wetland preservation. Langdon, on the other hand, sees the solar project as a means to support farming and conservation.
The revenue from the solar lease enabled Langdon to plant 220 acres of Oregon wild rice, a crop also grown by Rogers, attracting significant wildlife to the area—a development Langdon couldn’t have financed otherwise.
The continuation of the solar project depends on Hanwha Qcells’ submission of an official application by May, following a public backlash initiated with their 2023 notice of intent. Friends of Gap Road remains vigilant, rallying to oppose the project online.
The future of agrivoltaics in the US is uncertain. The USDA recently announced a halt to funding renewable energy projects on farmland. While Langdon’s arrangement is with a private company, many farmers rely on such grants.
Oregon Gov. Tina Kotek has urged state agencies to expedite renewable energy projects, but Friends of Gap Road is “cautiously optimistic” about halting the development.
Langdon believes his late father would have supported his decision despite opposition from family friends. “He would be very disappointed to make the neighbors unhappy,” Langdon says, “but he’s a guy that’s going to do what he has to do to make a living and to make his farm better for the next generation and generations to come.”
Original Story at www.motherjones.com