Field Report: The Limits of Scale- Wealth Doesn’t Equal Replication

A field visit to Albert's Haven Farm served as a powerful contrast that continues to challenge how I think about development, equity and what we define as success in agriculture.

This operation was outfitted with advanced drip irrigation systems, pumps and a diverse range of crops including passionfruit, dragonfruit, mangoes and coconut. It was clear that Albert’s Haven wasn’t just a farm, it was a vision of what agricultural development could look like with the right capital, expertise and global connections.

As I walked the farm, surrounded by high-tech irrigation systems and specialty crops, my thoughts drifted back to the smallholder farmers we had visited just the day before. They were working with the same dedication without the same resources or visibility. If this was what a “successful operation” looked like, what did that mean for those who didn’t have access to this level of wealth or global networks?

That's when I realized, the goal of development isn’t to make every farm look the same or use the same tools. The true aim should be to build systems that allow each farmer to make their own choices, exercising sovereignty over what they grow, when they grow it, how they grow it and most importantly, how they live.

This reframed how I thought about progress. Development shouldn’t be about cloning a model, but about cultivating agency.

One, as development practitioners, academics, and extension agents, are we holding up models that center wealth, scale and technology at the expense of local adaptability? At Albert’s Haven Farm, drip irrigation systems and increased efficiency and output, but the implementation and upkeep cost of these tools prevent widespread adoption in Ghana.

Secondly, are we pushing smallholders toward systems that honor farmers’ autonomy or just systems that are easy to replicate? In one coop, a development organization partnered with a private company to introduce four solar water pumps to improve irrigation access. The model had been successful on a much larger scale, but it wasn’t designed for the specific soil conditions and water table depth in this region. According to the chairman of the coop, the pump broke down within a few months and no one in the community had the parts, training or technical support needed to repair them. With three of the pumps out of commission, the one remaining pump was now running all the time. This added stress on the one remaining pump will inevitably cause it to fail too, throwing the community into an even more dire situation, further jeopardizing their crops and livelihoods.

Rather than empowering farmers, the intervention created a dependency on a system they couldn’t sustain. Replicability doesn’t guarantee resilience; true support starts by listening to what farmers actually need, not just what’s easy to scale.

These moments made me realize that too often, development initiatives value scalability over sovereignty by favoring models that look good in a report back to stakeholders or investors but don’t always make sense on the ground. The more important question isn’t “Can this be replicated?” but rather, “Does this model allow a farmer to choose what’s right for their context, culture and goals?”

While these questions challenged my understanding of development systems, it was the quiet, personal moments at Albert’s Haven that reminded me of what truly lies at the heart of development work. There is so much more than food shared when people sit around the kitchen table—there’s culture, tradition, stories, and joy. Human connection isn’t a byproduct of development, it’s the foundation. Development is not just about infrastructure, innovation or replicability; it’s about community, dignity and the ability to make meaningful choices.