Jacob Lesch is just 22 years old, but his intellect belies a person far older than his years. He is just as adept at discussing the future of farming as he is crop yields, pesticides, corporate farming and fertilizer prices. Like a lot of young adults, he’s fully embraced technology. His LinkedIn profile lists him as a Precision AG Specialist and a graduate of Ohio State University where he studied Agricultural Systems Management.

A lot of what he’s absorbed comes from working his family’s farms in Cassadaga and Fredonia, but he represents a new breed of American farmer that must possess a mind boggling list of skills: business acumen, new technology adaption, mechanical knowledge, organization and management skills, people skills, along with analytical and critical thinking. And somewhere along the way a farmer develops wisdom, too, which might be redefined as a deeply-honed intuition about the fickle ways of nature.

Among other skills, what young Jacob Lesch brings to the table for his family is his ability to embrace new technology. He calls the traditional way of farming the “Old McDonald way” and sees the future of farming as a marriage of old practices with new technology. The old and the new already coexist in fields across America: cameras attached to booms on the tractor direct pesticides away from weeds.

Precision steering in tractors can cut perfect lines across the fields when planting; smart irrigation systems are capable of monitoring moisture levels in the ground; there are already tractors that don’t require a driver.

Lesch admits that just because the technology exists, doesn’t mean it should always be adapted. He reminisces about driving tractors when he was young. That’s where a lot of kids cut their teeth in farming–driving with their fathers or grandfathers behind the steering wheel of a tractor. Even for someone with Lesch’s handle on technology, the romanticism of some aspects of “the old ways” of farming still capture his imagination, but I’m guessing there will come a day when those memories no longer exist for a future generation.

We talk about the public’s perception of corporate farming. I ask him if most farms are run like corporations now–even those that are still family-run, which represents 96 percent of farms in America.

And I come to understand, through our conversation, that corporations are adept at eeking out the most profit for the least amount of sweat equity. That’s why the corporate structure is attractive to farmers. As farmers begin to use available technologies, and implement new processes, they see greater returns on their investment. That makes the land and the entire farming industry more valuable. Here’s the caveat: an acre that once yielded 125 bushels of corn can potentially yield 150 bushels or more in this new era of farming. When you’re planting several hundred acres, that’s a substantial increase in a farmer’s yield.

The old family farm we idealize in America is being squeezed out by modernity and opponents to corporate farming have a long list of grievances, including damage to the environment and the health of farmers, poverty created by corporate farm consolidation, pollution created by industrial animal farming, and crops that are produced in a way that opponents say harm human health. Opponents favor a more sustainable form of farming, which they believe will foster improved human and environmental health.

But Jacob’s feet are firmly planted in this new era of technology in agriculture. He’s holding the flag for the future. He teaches people just like his grandfather how to adapt to it, but he tells me it’s not always an easy task to teach old farmers new tricks. He’s got his hands full at his technology job for Koenig Industries in Western Ohio while helping at the family farm on weekends.

He tells me he can log into the internet and help his grandfather with a problem from miles away. So much of what is possible today in farming has the added benefit of being true time-savers. If Jacob can diagnose problems at his desk rather than making house calls, it gives him more time to focus on other things. And as in any business, time is money.

This all makes me think about summers when I was growing up when we’d visit a family friend’s dairy farm near Albany. I can’t help but wonder what old Mr. Moore, who owned the farm, would think today about driverless tractors and GPS systems and tiny cameras surveying his field. I think he’d be impressed with Jacob Lesch, as I was, but I can see him sitting at his kitchen table scratching his head over a glass of fresh milk and an Apple laptop computer.