Why Is Beef So Expensive?

If you've bought a steak, a pound of ground beef, or a burger lately, you've probably noticed: beef is expensive. Over the past couple of years, we've watched cattle prices climb to levels we never expected to see.

That's been good news for many ranchers in the U.S. At the same time, those prices have created enormous pressure throughout the rest of the beef supply chain, including our own business.

And now that pressure has made its way all the way to the White House. On August 26, the Trump administration announced a temporary expansion of the tariff-rate quota for imported lean beef trimmings by 300,000 metric tons, with the stated goal of increasing ground beef supply and bringing some relief to consumers facing high beef prices.

The announcement has generated plenty of headlines, and plenty of questions:

Why is beef so expensive? If cattle prices are at record highs, aren't ranchers doing great? Why don't we just raise more cattle? Will importing more beef actually help? And does choosing American or locally raised beef really make a difference?

The answers are more complicated than some of the headlines suggest.

Why IS Beef So Expensive?

At its simplest, today's beef market is a story about supply and demand. Americans really like beef. Despite years of rising prices, demand has remained remarkably strong.

At the same time, we simply have fewer cattle. As of July 1, the United States had 28.5 million beef cows, down another 1% from last year, while USDA estimates the 2026 calf crop at 32.5 million head, down 2%.

This didn't happen overnight. Years of drought forced many ranchers to reduce their herds, while nearly every major cost associated with raising cattle has increased.

And unlike a factory, a ranch can't simply turn up production when prices rise. Cattle take time.

If we decide today that America needs more beef cows, ranchers have to retain more young females, breed them, wait for calves, and raise those calves through the production cycle. Rebuilding a cattle herd takes years. That biological reality helps explain both why beef is expensive today and why there isn't an easy short-term solution.

Record Prices Don't Tell the Whole Story

So if cattle are scarce and cattle prices are historically high, ranchers must be doing pretty well, right?

In some ways, yes. Ranchers who have cattle to sell today are receiving historically strong prices. After many difficult years, that's meaningful.

But record cattle prices tell us cattle are scarce and valuable. They don't necessarily tell us American ranching is healthy.

Production costs have risen significantly too. And some of the biggest challenges facing ranching are harder to see. One of them is succession.

American cow-calf production remains remarkably decentralized. The average U.S. beef cow herd is only about 47 head. These are the ranches where cattle actually begin, and many are family operations managing breeding animals, raising calves, and caring for working landscapes.

The people running America's farms and ranches are also getting older. The average age of an American agricultural producer is now over 58.

I see this challenge firsthand. Starting or taking over a ranch in California requires extraordinarily expensive land, livestock, equipment, and working capital. It also requires years of knowledge that isn't easily replaced. 

When a ranching family exits agriculture and there isn't another generation able or willing to step in, we don't just lose cattle-producing capacity.

We lose stewardship capacity. We lose people who know how to manage grasslands, water, livestock, wildlife, and working landscapes year after year.

Today's cattle prices also create an interesting dilemma.

A rancher can sell a valuable young heifer into today's strong market and take that income now. Or they can retain her, incur the costs and risks of breeding her, and make a multi-year investment in producing more cattle.

If we want more American beef tomorrow, someone has to decide not to sell that heifer today.

And that brings us back to imports…

Can Imports Solve the Problem?

First, imported beef isn't inherently bad.

The United States has long both imported and exported beef. Much of what we import is lean beef used in ground beef production, where it can be blended with fattier domestic trim to reach the desired lean-to-fat ratio. Imports are already a normal part of America's beef supply.

The Trump administration's recent action expands the amount of imported lean beef trimmings that can enter under the lower tariff rate by 300,000 metric tons.

The economic rationale is straightforward: increase available supply and put downward pressure on prices. When families are frustrated by the cost of food, that's an understandable objective.

But there's another time horizon to consider. If we want to rebuild the American cattle herd, ranchers need to make long-term investments in producing more cattle. They have to retain females and have enough confidence in future returns to take on the costs and risks of expansion.

Increasing supply through imports can help put downward pressure on beef prices today. But to the extent additional supply puts downward pressure on future cattle prices, it can also weaken one of the economic signals encouraging producers to expand.

Imports certainly aren't the only factor determining whether a rancher retains a heifer. Rainfall, pasture conditions, interest rates, land costs, succession, and many other factors matter.

But the two objectives can pull in opposite directions.

We can't say we want more American cattle while ignoring the economic conditions required for someone to produce them.

Imports can add supply relatively quickly. Rebuilding the domestic cattle herd takes years.

Imports can help fill supply. They can't replace domestic production capacity.

What Does This Look Like From Where We Sit?

Stemple Creek Ranch occupies an unusual position in this market. We're ranchers, but we're also a meat company.

We raise cattle ourselves and purchase some cattle from trusted local partner ranches, so when cattle prices rise, we see both sides. Even with our own cattle, there's a real cost to keeping those animals in the Stemple Creek program rather than selling them into today's historically strong cattle market.

I'm happy when ranchers receive strong prices. We need economically viable ranches if we expect people to continue raising cattle and stewarding working landscapes in California.

At the same time, when cattle prices rise, our cost of beef rises with them.

That pressure moves through the system; to processors, restaurants, independent grocery stores and butcher shops, and eventually to families at the meat counter.

There isn't necessarily a villain in that story. There is scarcity.

Our responsibility at Stemple Creek Ranch isn't to complain about the market or expect customers to rescue us from it.

It's to adapt and ultimately to build a business and local food system resilient enough to withstand some of these larger economic shifts.

That's part of why local systems matter. They create smaller, decentralized supply chains built on relationships between ranchers, processors, businesses, and customers. And they give people greater confidence in where their food comes from, regardless of what's happening in the broader market.

We have to produce exceptional food, care for our land and animals, support the ranchers we work with, operate transparently, and provide enough value that our customers choose to support us.

We have to earn that choice.

What Is Food Worth? (Price vs. Value)

People are understandably frustrated by the price of beef. But I also think we've developed a strange relationship with the price of food.

Many of us, myself included, will spend six, seven, or eight dollars on a coffee without thinking too much about it. Or not blink an eye at a $13 fast food meal. Then we see a similar price attached to a pound of ground beef capable of feeding several people and wonder how food became so expensive.

Maybe part of the conversation shouldn't just be about price. Maybe we should also talk about value.

Beef is an incredibly nutrient-dense food. And behind it are the land, animals, people, processing, transportation, and infrastructure required to get that food onto our plates. This isn't an argument that everyone should simply pay more. Food affordability matters, and choosing a less expensive product is a perfectly rational decision.

But price and value aren't always the same thing. And collectively, the choices we make about food create demand for the systems that produce it.

Know Where Your Food Comes From

I don't believe imported beef is inherently bad. There is excellent beef raised all over the world, and trade will continue to play an important role in our food system.

Nor do I believe consumers owe American ranchers their business simply because we're American.

We have to earn it.

But I do believe deeply in something much simpler: Know where your food comes from.

Know your rancher. Know your farmer. Know your butcher. Know the grocery store that supports local producers and the restaurant that makes the effort to source from them.

Ask questions. And when you find people you trust, support them. Because buying locally isn't charity.

It's investment.

Those dollars support ranchers, processors, butchers, drivers, independent businesses, and working landscapes. They help maintain the infrastructure and knowledge required to produce food close to home. And they create economic opportunities for another generation to believe there is a future in agriculture.

We shouldn't confuse having access to food today with having the capacity to produce it tomorrow.

Those are not the same thing. A resilient food system can't suddenly be built when there's a drought, a pandemic, a trade dispute, or some other disruption. It takes years of investment in people, land, infrastructure, and relationships.

Last year, I wrote that prices aren't just numbers. They're signals.

So are purchases. None of us can control cattle markets or trade policy. And no single purchase is going to rebuild the American cattle herd.

But collectively, our choices help determine which ranches remain economically viable, whether processors and local infrastructure get invested in, whether working landscapes remain productive, and whether another generation sees an opportunity worth pursuing.

So know where your food comes from. Build relationships with the people producing it. And when you find a food system you believe in, invest in it.

Because resilient food systems aren't built when we suddenly need them. We build them by choosing them every day.