Spring has sprung on Leo Staples’ family farm in Oklahoma, and his Berkshire pigs couldn’t be happier about it.

Weighing in at about 550 pounds, Woody, his largest hog (named by a grandson after the“Toy Story” icon ) plays “like a puppy” in his free-range paddock, Staples told me, gobbling up the rye, clovers and winter peas that have grown knee-high under the Southern sun.

Swine life on Staples’ sustainable family farm is a jarring contrast to the existence of a pig on one of America’s “intensive” corporate-owned mega-farms, where some sows are confined to cages so small they literally can’t turn around or take more than a step or two in any direction.

“It’s not necessary and it hasn’t proven to be good science,” Staples, a self-described conservative Republican, said of Big Ag porcine lockups. “It’s also cruel.”

That confinement is at the heart of a congressional fight over animal welfare standards that Staples — and California — is likely to lose, though we shouldn’t.

At issue is the Save Our Bacon Act, a sneak attack backed by foreign corporations currently hidden deep inside the farm bill. It would severely curb the ability of states to enact limits on animal confinement and maybe accidentally open the door for ending all kinds of state-level food safety laws.

The SOB Act, an apt nickname, would not only cripple small family farmers such as Staples (though its supporters claim it helps family farmers ), it would negate the will of California voters, potentially introduce risk into the food chain, and turn greater power of our food supply over to China.

It would also limit consumer choice at a time when more Americans — from fans of far-right Health Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. to far-left granola grandmas — are demanding a say in how their food is produced.

Let’s break that down.

What is the SOB Act?

For the vegetarian hard-liners out there, it is true that Woody himself will someday likely be bacon.

But, increasingly over the past decades, meat-friendly consumers have moved toward wanting animals to “live a really great life and have one bad day,” as Nate Beaulac, another conservative Oklahoma pork farmer, describes it.

In 2018, to further that aim, about 63% of California voters passed Proposition 12, which increased the space that breeding sows were required to have, from something about the size of a small car trunk to the size of a coat closet. We’re not talking rolling acres here — just enough room to turn around. Some of these sows are basically caged for the majority of their breeding life — years — and are about the size of a black bear.

But here was the real bite in Proposition 12: No pork from any state could be sold in California if it didn’t come from a farm that met the new standard.

Overnight, the corporate breeders were locked out of the Golden State market. They sued bigly, and lost bigly in 2023 at the Supreme Court, which upheld California’s right to impose the state standard.

Big Pork tried to revive the issue with the Supreme Court in 2025 and was rebuffed. Surprise, surprise, the drums started pounding for the SOB Act shortly after (though various legislative attempts have floated since Proposition 12 was passed) backed by a Midwestern congresswoman from a Big Pork state.

The SOB Act would negate Proposition 12 (and a similar law in Massachusetts) and forbid states from making laws regarding animal confinement, according to an analysis by the Animal Law & Policy Program at Harvard Law.

That would emphatically overturn the will of the majority of California voters who want those standards.

But hey, Big Pork would make big bank.

“They want to limit American consumers’ ability to fight,” Beaulac told me. “They wanted to limit Americans’ ability to pursue any sort of change. And that is why me, not only as a farmer, but as an American and a capitalist, I’m strongly opposed to the Save Our Bacon Act, and in staunch support of Proposition 12.”

What Prop. 12 did

Beaulac was once a Californian himself, before heading to the Sooner State for college. He describes himself as a “Christian, capitalist, conservative environmentalist,” and a sustainable farmer who depends on consumers’ desire for healthy food to sell his pigs, chickens and cows.

Proposition 12, Beaulac said, “was a huge help to smaller farms, and the only people that it really hurt were the huge multinational conglomerates.”

“I mean very simply, we want the opportunity to compete,” he said.

Staples, Woody’s owner, who is also an expert in project management and environmental compliance from a previous career in the power industry, makes the case that the mega-farms can also come with mega-dangers.

“You have 100,000 pigs within two miles of each other, the chance of issues with a swine flu or natural disaster just increases,” he said. He points out that issues such as disease, groundwater contamination and waste disposal have already become problems for some large farms.

The flaws in the SOB Act don’t stop there.

The Harvard Law analysis points out that the loose language of the bill could have other consequences, maybe even gutting some state safety, labeling and cleanliness standards.

And some Republicans in Congress, including Californian Reps. David Valadao and Young Kim, oppose the measure and sent a letter to the Agriculture Committee late last year urging them to dump the act, pointing out that at least a quarter of Big Pork is owned by Chinese companies and does not represent American interests.

“Foreign-owned corporations — particularly those tied to adversarial nations — already hold a disturbing amount of control over U.S. agricultural assets,” the letter read, citing Chinese-owned Smithfield Foods, the largest pork producer in the United States.

The SOB Act “could further consolidate the influence of such foreign entities,” the letter‘s authors warned.

Armed with those arguments and others, Staples and Beaulac traveled to Washington recently to make their case against the SOB Act with lawmakers.

But, both men told me, they were met with a wall of lobbyists and money.

“It’s very eye-opening in terms of how many lobbyists are there every day,” Beaulac said. “The reality is Big Ag donates big money to the senators, and so when they need their bill to go through or they need a bill shut down, they’re going to have a lot more leeway than the small farmers.”

The lobbyists, Staples said, had the debate wrapped up tight long before the farmers even knocked the dirt off their boots and entered Congress.

“It was very obvious,” he said. “I was not prepared for what Big Ag had done, how they had prepared members of Congress to address the issues we wanted to address.”

Beaulac said he’s discouraged and fears the SOB Act will pass, but also isn’t giving up hope. He sees it as a bipartisan issue, and one he hopes for which people will stand up. This week, a social media post featuring a sad photo of a caged pig went viral, drawing attention across party lines.

“Blue, red. It doesn’t matter. People want healthy food,” Beaulac said. “They want to know how it’s raised. They genuinely care how they’re feeding their family, and it has nothing to do with who they vote for in November.”

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