It was a summer of surprises for Iowa pig farmer Rob Brenneman.
It began when the 68-year-old, who also serves as president of the National Pork Producers Council, saw his photograph featured in an attack ad claiming the nation’s pork producers were in the pockets of Chinese Communists.
Next, he learned that the ad was part of a campaign spearheaded by a recently created organization, the American Meat Producers Association, was led by a woman with a long history of lobbying and activism on behalf of vegan groups. That turned out to be only one of what he saw as false flags at work as he concluded that the association wasn’t concerned about Chinese influence in the pork industry. Instead, the attack campaign was tapping anti-China sentiment to go after supporters of a Farm Bill provision passed in the House of Representatives last spring that would prevent California from dictating farm policy for the entire country.
Similar ads, which have run in Iowa, Kansas, Arkansas, and Washington, D.C., have attacked other top officials – including two Republican candidates in tight races for the U.S. Senate, Ashley Hinson in Iowa and Kansas Sen. Roger Marshall of Kansas.
Topping off the surprises, Brenneman learned that major funding for these multi-million-dollar ad campaigns came not from competing agricultural interests but far-away Californians who struck it rich in tech.
“It’s all a lie,” Brenneman said.
On one level, Brenneman and his porcine brethren are pitted in a traditional clash over states’ rights: specifically, whether California’s Prop 12 rule requiring more space for pregnant pigs can set farm animal policy nationwide by closing the state’s huge market to producers who don’t follow those rules. The tech billionaires, along with a constellation of animal rights nonprofits – some of which they created and fund – have cast the American farm industry as villains for raising chickens, hens, and pigs in conditions they dub “a scourge on our planet; a stain on humanity.”
In a larger sense, the battle reflects the changing landscape of American politics and society – as newly minted tech barons use their vast wealth to try and control their fellow citizens’ lifestyles and choices. The rich have always used their money to buy influence, but the tech barons may be different because many share not just pet causes but an all-encompassing philosophy. They call it effective altruism. The expansive concept is that whatever will benefit the most people over time – even decades or centuries down the road – is the best policy to pursue. While the values of Silicon Valley billionaires may differ from those of many everyday Americans, the tech titans have pledged to use huge chunks of the largest private fortunes in history to make their vision of a better world reality. Part of that vision, for many, involves the treatment of farm animals, what they describe as “farm animal welfare,” and the movement toward a plant-based diet for all.
California and beyond
The current battle began in 2018 when California voters passed Prop 12 on the basis of deep support in the state’s rich coastal enclaves.
The measure was designed to combat the allegedly inhumane conditions in which farm animals, especially pigs and hens, are raised. Under Prop 12’s provisions, pregnant sows must be housed in stalls of at least 24 square feet if their offspring are to wind up on Golden State dining tables.
While California accounts for less than 1% of U.S. pork production, its residents consume roughly 13% of America’s pork supply. When farmers send their pigs to the slaughterhouse, however, they have no clue where the pork may eventually be sold, and given the size of the California market – and with its agriculture agents fanning out to check – pig farmers who hope to sell there must comply with the new rule.
A lawsuit against Prop 12, arguing that one state’s rules should not cause chaos in interstate commerce, went to the Supreme Court. In 2023, the justices decided it was up to Congress to settle the matter, in an opinion authored by Justice Neil Gorsuch.
Thus, the law took effect in 2024. Various proposals in Congress to wall off Prop 12’s effects to California went down to defeat until last April, when the so-called Save Our Bacon provision was added to a farm bill that passed the House mostly along party lines. It prevents states from using their sales laws to impose livestock-raising standards on producers in other states.
Quickly, Silicon Valley mandarins such as Dustin Moskovitz, co-founder of Facebook, his wife, Cari Tuna, crypto entrepreneur Jed McCaleb, AI executive Avital Balwit, new age philanthropy guru Nan Ransohoff, and others sprang into action. Moskovitz’s Coefficient Giving, formerly known as Open Philanthropy, gave $10 million to The Navigation Fund, which was begun by McCaleb in 2023 and whose president, David Coman-Hidy, has been a leader in the animal advocacy movement. Millions more were raised via Bay Area fundraisers and left-wing podcasters, according to an internal Navigation Fund memo and other documents obtained by RealClearInvestigations.
“This is the biggest fight we’ve ever waged in Congress,” the May 7 Navigation Fund memo said.
All told, the anti-Save Our Bacon movement raised $40 million, according to Lewis Bollard, who heads the Farm Animal Welfare Fund for Coefficient Giving. Those millions in turn helped fund the efforts of the principal drivers of the campaign against Senate support for the Farm Bill, funneled into front groups that did not exist when Prop 12 passed.
At the head of the line is the American Meat Producers Association, which is three separate organizations: a traditional 501(c)3 non-profit, a 501(c)4 non-profit that is not required to release donor information, and a political action committee (PAC). AMPA, as it is known, formed last year and announced it was spending $30 million to sway the Senate. Other leaders of the campaign include the Center for Responsible Food Business, which launched in 2023, and the Animal Policy Alliance, which began in 2024 as an offshoot of the Humane League.
‘Wolves in sheep’s clothing’
AMPA is headed by Holly Bice, who describes herself as a “seasoned government relations and strategic advocacy professional.” Bice is neither a meat producer nor a farmer. She is a former lobbyist for Animal Wellness Action and the Humane Society Legislative Fund, now Humane World for Animals, which supports veganism and plant-based diets. The association’s website says it represents “farmers, ranchers, and meat producers across the United States, fighting to protect their livelihoods and preserve the future of American farming.” While its public face features farmers who specialize in high-end products, it is bankrolled by Silicon Valley executives.
Similarly, in addition to Coman-Hidy, the Navigation Fund’s leadership includes Jesse Marks, a former senior vice president at Mercy For Animals, which seeks to rid the U.S. of the “cruel realities of a food system that prioritizes efficiency over the well-being of these smart, sensitive individuals.”
Hannah Thompson-Weeman, president and chief executive of the Animal Agriculture Alliance that has been tracking the movement since 1987, drew a distinction between animal welfare, a movement largely supported by farmers given their interest in livestock, and animal rights activists, who hold that animals have the same rights as people.
“There’s just been an explosion of these [latter] groups in the last few years, and while they may have a handful of actual producers in them, there’s not a lot of transparency on their membership and where the money is coming from,” she said. “They look like wolves in sheep’s clothing.”
Neither the American Meat Producers Association nor the Navigation Fund responded to RCI’s requests for comment. But Thompson-Weeman said the groups do not believe there is an ethical way to raise animals for food. “These groups are trying to take on the persona of farmers, and I suppose imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,” she said. “But I would have a lot of questions about the activists’ bona fides as producers.”
Farmers aren’t the only ones fooled by the “meat producers” branding. When Ransohoff, select podcasters, and animal rights activists began touting the Bay Area fundraisers on social media, even sympathetic accounts were confused.
“Why does this Google form link include a donation link to (the AMPA)? Are they fighting the sob act?” a user on X asked the leaders in July.
Josh Balk, a veteran figure in the animal rights movement, hastened to reassure puzzled social media accounts. “Hi, friends, yep, AMPA is a family farming organization that’s fighting SOB,” he wrote on X. Balk is currently the chief executive of The Accountability Board, an investing outfit that Big Tech philanthropy hatched in 2022.
The China angle
The campaign against the Farm Bill with “Save Our Bacon” is curious for other reasons, too, in particular the claim Big Pork is doing the bidding of Chinese Communists. Initially, the charge rested on paltry amounts of campaign money from HAMPAC, the PAC for U.S. employees of Smithfield Foods, the ham giant largely owned by a Chinese conglomerate that processes about 20 percent of the nation’s pigs. Sen. Chuck Grassley of Iowa, who raised more than $9 million when re-elected in 2022, has received $7,000 from HAMPAC since 2009, while Sen. Marshall got $1,000 in 2018. Hinson received just a $1,250 contribution in 2023.
And while the contributions to specific senators may be small, the animal rights crew insists considerable money is involved. On Oct. 22, the Center for Responsible Food Business issued a report saying “China-linked Smithfield and Syngenta PACs have spent $26 million” in campaign contributions to and lobbying federal lawmakers.
In any event, the China-bashing and other negative advertising seems to have had an impact: Marshall withdrew his sponsorship of the Save Our Bacon provision in the Senate.
Several members of Congress remain firm backers of the House-passed version of the Farm Bill. Iowa Rep. Hinson, now seeking the seat of retiring Sen. Joni Ernst, is one, and another is Pennsylvania Republican Rep. Glenn Thompson, who chairs the House Agriculture Committee and helped push the farm bill’s April passage in that chamber.
Ernst’s staff pointed to an RFD-TV television interview last month with the retiring senator, in which she argued the people voting in favor of Prop 12 were largely ignorant of animal welfare and modern farming. She noted that unlike California, with its puny production now tailored to the high-end market, Iowa is the biggest pork producer in the U.S. Nationwide, pork represents a domestic market of roughly $30 billion a year, and is projected to produce 27.6 billion pounds of pork in 2026, according to the Department of Agriculture.
But Big Pork has taken a hit from Prop 12, according to recent research from North Dakota State University. Since 2024, the price of pork products has increased an average of 20% in California, costing the state’s consumers some $353 million. Not coincidentally, pork consumption in the state has declined by 16%, researchers said. Smaller farmers also noted that large companies such as Smithfield Foods, which did not respond to RCI’s request for comment, are better able to absorb the costs of complying with Prop 12 than they are.
One size doesn’t fit all
Lori and Dale Stevermer represent just a slice of that market through their Trails End Farm in Easton, Minnesota. Lori, a past president of the National Pork Producers Council who was named Minnesota Pork’s “2026 environmental steward of the year,” and her husband run a third-generation farm with roughly 450 acres of cropland and 4,000 pigs a year.
“I’m willing to bet the average person has no idea who is funding the American Meat Producers Association,” Lori Stevermer said. “They might use a real farmer in a commercial, but the money is coming from activists. These activists are funding something without having any idea what we do on our farms.”
Animal welfare activists depict modern farming as systemic, unmatched cruelty, describing practices in near-apocalyptic tones. But both the American Veterinary Medical Association and the American Association of Swine Veterinarians urged Congress to limit California’s Prop 12 to inside the state’s borders. They described the measure’s requirements as “arbitrary,” noting “the ballot initiative does not objectively improve animal welfare. In fact, in some cases, it may compromise animal welfare.”
Animal rights activists are pushing other states to adopt initiatives similar to California’s. Massachusetts passed an animal welfare bill in 2020. While opponents of “Save Our Bacon” insist the farm bill as is would prohibit states from adopting animal rights legislation, Stevermer and others said that is exactly backward: The bill would leave states free to regulate their own farmers any way they see fit, but they can’t extend those rules to the national market.
Thus, farmers are concerned about trying to stay on top of and in compliance with a patchwork of regulations. The expense – Rob Brenneman said it costs between $2,000 and $3,000 per stall to make each 24 square feet – means the field will be swept of smaller farms and American food costs will rise.
“It’s not one size fits all in farming,” Lori Stevermer said.
The anti-Save Our Bacon campaign has Brenneman, Stevermer, and the National Pork Producers Council fuming over what they call its scurrilous allegations and lack of transparency. The Council was the plaintiff in the suit against Prop 12.
“A $30 million advertising campaign built on character attacks and misleading claims says far more about the people funding it than it does about the American farmers and members of Congress it is targeting,” a Council spokesperson told RCI. “Rather than engaging in a serious discussion about California’s Proposition 12 and the challenges facing American farmers, our opposition has resorted to personal attacks, outlandish accusations, and in many instances, falsehoods about our industry and leaders in Congress.”
Brenneman said he’s not worried about his longtime Iowa neighbors starting to think he may have a personal relationship with Chinese Communist Party General Secretary Xi Jinping. But he bristles at the notion that rich tech barons know what’s best down on the farm.
“I’ve got a problem with people saying we’re not doing it right,” Brenneman said. “If you want these rules in your state, that’s your privilege, but it’s not what God put us on earth to do. The animal rights activists are out to put us out of business – that’s their goal.”
This article was originally published by RealClearInvestigations and made available via RealClearWire.
