Insight No. 9

“Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.”
— Nelson Mandela

Author: Mani Skaria, Ph.D.
Professor Emeritus, Texas A&M–Kingsville
President & CEO, US Citrus

Production Date: September 08, 2025

Introduction
The Cooperative Extension Service (CES) is one of the most significant educational experiments in American history. Born from the Smith–Lever Act of 1914, it linked land-grant universities with federal and state partners to bring science directly to the people. For much of the twentieth century, Extension stood as the bridge between academic research and practical application in plant, animal, and human sciences. County agents were household names, known as the trusted advisors who could diagnose a field problem, guide families in nutrition, and help youth prepare for leadership through 4-H. But over the decades, the system has shifted, shrunk, and struggled to adapt to new realities. By 2025, many rural communities will no longer have the same Extension presence they once relied upon.

This story is not only institutional—it is personal. I was born in India to parents who themselves served in extension: my father in agriculture, my mother in human sciences. She even traveled to New York for advanced training in Extension education, and later served on deputation in the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan. Growing up in that environment, I saw firsthand how Extension education touched farmers, families, and communities across borders. It was no surprise that my own career would eventually follow that same path.

The Birth of Extension (1914)

The Smith–Lever Act of 1914 formally created the Cooperative Extension System as a nationwide partnership between the U.S. Department of Agriculture and land-grant universities. Its purpose was to ensure that scientific knowledge—developed in research stations and classrooms—reached farmers, families, and youth in practical, usable ways. In those years, more than half of Americans lived in rural areas, and about a third worked in agriculture. The system was designed for a rural nation, and it thrived in that setting.

Leading universities such as Texas A&M, Purdue, Cornell, Iowa State, Penn State, and the University of California built massive extension networks. Agents became local educators, using field demonstrations, bulletins, and one-on-one visits. The model quickly became a standard for applied science worldwide.

Extension in the 1970s and 1980s

By the 1970s, Extension had become a fully mature system. It reached nearly every county in the nation, and its subject matter had broadened from production agriculture to human nutrition, youth leadership, and community development. Globally, Extension also became a model for development programs abroad.

After completing my Ph.D. in Plant Pathology at Purdue University in the 1980s, my first professional role was with USAID and Washington State University in Jordan. There, I co-authored more than two dozen extension publications on vegetables, potatoes, citrus, and plant diseases in collaboration with the Jordanian Ministry of Agriculture. These bulletins were not abstract academic papers—they were practical field manuals written for farmers. This experience deepened my conviction that the true measure of science is not just discovery but its extension into the lives of people.

Shifts in the 1990s and 2000s

Beginning in the 1990s, cracks began to appear. Funding for Extension, when adjusted for inflation, declined. Extension full-time equivalents (FTEs) shrank across regions. Some states consolidated county offices, asking one agent to serve multiple counties. Others froze hiring or shifted to grant-dependent programming. Meanwhile, universities themselves were changing. The culture of ‘publish or perish’ placed greater weight on journal articles and grant dollars than on outreach. Many extension professionals were reclassified into non-tenure tracks, creating instability and discouraging long-term service. These trends weakened the traditional county-based model.

A Texas Case Study: Clean Citrus

When I joined Texas A&M University–Kingsville in 1988, one of my first priorities was to improve citrus nursery health. At the time, many in the industry did not realize the risks of spreading diseases through uncertified budwood. In 1994, with industry support, I launched a clean citrus program and even brought an expert from South Africa to help with tissue grafting and sanitation methods. By 1997, Governor George W. Bush signed legislation making this program state law. Since then, the program has delivered close to five million clean buds in Texas. This success demonstrated how Extension, when rooted in science and backed by community support, could shape an entire industry for decades.

The Great Recession and Retrenchment

The financial crisis of 2008–2009 marked another turning point. State budgets tightened, and Extension programs were often among the first to face cuts. Universities reduced staff, merged counties, and sought to cover wide geographies with fewer personnel. The result was a thinning of Extension’s presence on the ground. Communities that once had familiar county agents now faced rotating specialists or had to rely on regional call centers.

Extension in 2025: Smaller Boots, Bigger Bandwidth

By 2025, the Cooperative Extension System will be a fraction of its former size in terms of personnel, but it has expanded its digital reach. Webinars, online resource centers, and national digital extension initiatives enable information to spread instantly. Artificial intelligence is beginning to play a role in triaging questions, translating materials, and personalizing content. Yet, despite these innovations, Extension cannot thrive on digital alone. Farmers, families, and communities still need trusted human connections, site-specific advice, and hands-on demonstrations.

For my part, even in retirement as a Professor Emeritus, I continue to extend knowledge through ‘Dr. Mani’s Insights,’ a platform where I use digital storytelling, videos, and teaching materials to reach a broad audience. This is, in many ways, the continuation of what my parents taught me—extending knowledge, adapting the medium, but never abandoning the mission.

Why the Decline?

The decline of Extension is not the result of one factor, but several interwoven trends:
1. Demographic shifts: Agriculture employs far fewer Americans than it once did, reducing the political clout of farm programs.
2. Funding erosion: Federal and state budgets have failed to keep pace with inflation, leading to fewer staff and more regionalized models.
3. Academic incentives: Universities reward publication more than outreach, diverting attention from local service.
4. Program fragmentation: Dependence on competitive grants has pulled focus away from open-ended service.
5. Delivery lag: The pivot to digital tools was slow, leaving gaps as communities moved online.

Solutions and the Road Ahead

What would it take to restore and renew Extension?

– **Funding stability**: Protect and expand Smith–Lever formula funds, ensuring they grow with inflation.
– **Rebalanced incentives**: Reward community impact and extension scholarship equally with research publications.
– **Digital + local hybrids**: Blend AI-driven tools with a strong human presence in the field.
– **Career pathways**: Create stable, respected roles for extension staff at all levels, with promotion criteria tied to impact.

Extension must remain a bridge between science and society, between universities and the people. Artificial intelligence may become a co-pilot, but the human element cannot be replaced.

Conclusion

Extension in the United States has seen a century of transformation—from the bold launch of 1914, to the golden decades of the mid-twentieth century, through contraction in the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries. Yet, its mission remains urgent: to bring knowledge to the people and to empower communities with practical science.

My own journey—from the son of extension professionals in India, to a USAID pathologist in Jordan, to leading clean citrus initiatives in Texas, and now to digital education as Professor Emeritus—mirrors that larger arc. Extension is not an outdated relic. It is a living promise. And in 2025, the question is not whether we need it, but how we will reimagine it for the century ahead.

“Extension is not an outdated relic. It is a living promise. And in 2025, the question is not whether we need it, but how we will reimagine it for the century ahead.” – Mani Skaria