“Farmers are always looking for, ‘What else can I do?’” said Stephen Nicholson, the North American head of crops at agricultural lender Rabobank.
Even large-scale family operations like Welker Farms can struggle to support several households through tough crop cycles, he said.
The family now has a roughly 12,000-acre operation that grows a mix of wheat and crops like peas and lentils.
Views have slipped, Welker Farms’ most lucrative partnership dried up, and it has been a week since their last piece of fan mail.
The family used social-media money to buy a rental property in the mountains and is considering more real-estate investments to diversify their revenue.
This year, agricultural lenders expect less than half of producers to turn a profit, according to a survey by the Federal Agricultural Mortgage Corp. Eighty-six percent of family farms earned a majority of their household income from off-farm sources in 2024, according to the most recent U.S. Department of Agriculture data.
“Farmers are always looking for, ‘What else can I do?’” said Stephen Nicholson, the North American head of crops at agricultural lender Rabobank. Even large-scale family operations like Welker Farms can struggle to support several households through tough crop cycles, he said.
The Welkers have amassed more than one million combined followers across social-media platforms. YouTube ads on their videos bring in thousands of dollars a year. Tractor brands like Case IH pay handsomely to have their machinery featured on the Welkers’ channel. That’s not to mention the Welker Farms-branded hats and sweatshirts for sale.
Welker said the farm’s email inbox is inundated with pitches for paid endorsement deals, but he is protective of their family-friendly image; they have turned down everything from an underwear ad to a reality TV show.
Field and stream
The Welkers first arrived in Montana over a century ago, homesteading a modest patch of grassland. The family now has a roughly 12,000-acre operation that grows a mix of wheat and crops like peas and lentils.
Some of their earliest viral videos in the mid-2010s followed the restoration of a Big Bud tractor—a hulking machine with a cult following among tractor enthusiasts.
Welker’s father, Bob, wasn’t always sold on social media. He recalled his son often halting farm work to launch a drone or chase a better shot, to the frustration of his task-oriented brother and father.
The videos eventually started paying off. The social-media business now provides a six-figure annual income stream, generating about $5 for every $1 invested in equipment, cameras, and a video editor, Welker said.
In the past few years, Welker and his brother Scott earned enough to move their families from double-wide trailers into newly built houses on the property.
The extra income is especially important now. There are 17 Welkers on the family’s land, but the income from farm operations largely supports Bob Welker and his wife. Without the social-media money, his sons would likely need off-farm jobs to support their families, he said.
The Welkers aren’t alone. After Zoe Kent took over her father’s Ohio soy and corn farm in 2021, she thought she would generate “some fun money” with humorous day-in-the-life videos. Last year, her social-media income was five times higher than her farm profits.
“As my income from social media has ramped up, the farm economy has been trending down,” Kent said. Now, she’s looking for more ways to capitalize on her following, like raising bees to market honey to fans.
Tucker Brown, a sixth-generation rancher in Texas, has built an audience of about 850,000 across his social-media platforms by feeding horseback-riding and cattle-wrangling content to his viewers in cities like New York and Phoenix.
“I’m riding the coattail of the Yellowstone effect and the cowboy being cool again,” said Brown, who expects his digital revenue to crack $100,000 this year. He said his earnings from social media have changed his family’s life and allowed his wife to stay at home with their three children.
Fame and farming
The Welkers’ fame makes them an anomaly among the roughly 3,300 people who live in Shelby, Mont. Welker worries his family’s work as influencers has alienated some neighbors and hurt their chances of leasing more land nearby.
Then there are the fans. Followers have dubbed Nick “Hollywood” for his showmanship on camera, and Scott “Leg Arms” for his size.
Every summer, tourists on their way to Glacier National Park pull into the family’s driveway by the dozens, hoping to talk tractors and see the farm for themselves. But since a fan was bitten by a farm dog, the family has posted wooden signs along the road with “by appointment only” scrawled in black paint.
But after a decade online, the Welkers said they feel their social-media momentum slowing. Nick Welker said he only posts online twice a week instead of daily as his farm responsibilities mount and family grows. Views have slipped, Welker Farms’ most lucrative partnership dried up, and it has been a week since their last piece of fan mail.
Welker said he always knew the attention would fade eventually. The family used social-media money to buy a rental property in the mountains and is considering more real-estate investments to diversify their revenue.
Still, Welker doesn’t think any traditional off-farm income would match what they have earned online.
“Internet fame has the shelf life of a banana,” he said. “I keep hoping that farming picks up by the time it ends, but it hasn’t happened yet.”
Write to Amira McKee at [email protected]
