What’s a sheep worth?

All my life, Scotland’s landscapes have felt defined by a sense of something missing. I feel the absence of large predators as a constant ache, like a phantom limb, whose flesh and function have been replaced by a painful void.

'It’s hard to imagine an apex predator that would be easier to live with.'
But as the case for reintroducing Eurasian lynx is considered in earnest, hope is growing that a part of what was lost long ago might finally be returned to Scotland. Wolves would be too challenging, the thinking goes, but lynx might be manageable. Indeed, it’s hard to imagine an apex predator that would be easier to live with. However, even lynx pose challenges and would probably kill at least some sheep, raising questions about how such losses should be weighed.
Livestock predation by lynx is influenced by a complex range of factors: the availability of wild prey, the number of lynx in a landscape, the densities of sheep and their levels of protection, and how close to woodland sheep are allowed to graze – to name a few. While some of these factors increase the risk of predation, others decrease it, making it impossible to precisely predict the number of sheep that could be killed in Scotland by reintroduced lynx.
In all cases however, sheep farmers are likely to want compensation, which raises the question: what’s a sheep worth?

At the simplest level, a sheep’s worth can be quantified by its market value. One way to compensate farmers would be to refund the price an animal would have earned at point of sale. This practice operates in Switzerland, for livestock confirmed to have been killed by lynx.
'The question of a sheep’s worth is not just about money.'
The Swiss system values livestock according to their age, condition and breeding potential, with compensation paid accordingly. But even in Switzerland, whose generous compensation packages place it in the top three countries in the world for the support offered to farmers, human coexistence with predators often remains fraught. The question of a sheep’s worth is not just about money.
Wolves, which have returned to Switzerland unaided, are far more contested than lynx, but these solitary, enigmatic cats still attract resentment. Claudia Raimann, a sheep farmer from Switzerland’s Jura region, told me her partner would prefer a landscape free from lynx, sometimes asking her: ‘Why did they bring the lynx here? Nobody asked us.’
Such sentiments reflect a little-acknowledged reality – that the cost of living with large carnivores is not limited to the market price of animals predated. Indirect costs include extra time and labour spent protecting livestock, as well as the stress imposed on surviving animals, and to farmers themselves. Subtler consequences can include an increased risk of mastitis for mothers of predated lambs, the erosion of hefted knowledge, or the loss of irreplaceable blood lines. At a certain point, these cumulative factors may conspire to threaten the fundamental viability of a farm.

Shepherdess Claudia Raimann, holding a pair of Pyrenean Mountain Dog puppies which are used to protect sheep on her hill farm in the Swiss Jura.
Some farmers are required to maintain minimum sheep numbers to meet the terms of tenancy contracts or qualify for financial support schemes. Others worry that fewer sheep could result in higher numbers of ticks, or greater risk of fire on ungrazed hillsides. Some even wonder whether biodiversity might suffer if grazing regimes are changed.
'Rearing sheep is in their blood and a part of their identity.'
Beyond market worth, the true value of a sheep to farmers reflects a more complex mix of financial imperatives, personal values and emotional motivations, often tied to generations of tradition. Some farmers maintain sheep flocks at a financial loss: they don’t do it for the money, but rather because their parents and grandparents did it. Rearing sheep is in their blood and a part of their identity. When sheep are lost, they are mourned as a cultural loss as much as an economic one.
The stratified nature of Scottish sheep farming – which integrates sheep from the uplands into the lowlands to increase the vigour of lowland flocks – adds further complexity. This connectedness adds to the value of hill sheep and means the impact of any lynx reintroduction could extend beyond just those areas recolonised by lynx.
On the other hand, hill farming poses challenges to sheep welfare. Hill sheep are not as closely supervised as lowland animals and the shepherd to ewe ratio is often very low. As a result, hill sheep suffering from injury, parasitism or disease do not always enjoy immediate assistance, while predation and poor nutrition in these harsher environments also take a toll. These animals are valued, but not enough to secure their welfare.
'Do we really need so many sheep, grazing so much of our land?'
There are questions too around the environmental impact of Scotland’s 6.8 million sheep. It is widely accepted that overgrazing by deer is damaging peat bogs and stifling the growth of new woodland, but nationwide sheep outnumber deer by around seven to one. And while carefully managed sheep grazing can support grassland biodiversity, many farmers are shifting from permanent grasslands to highly fertilised ryegrass pastures, which increase productivity but provide far less support for wildlife.

High densities of grazing animals, whether they are deer or sheep, restrict the ability of vegetation such as native woodland, to regenerate.
Do we really need so many sheep, grazing so much of our land? Today, 55% of all Scotland's agricultural land - an estimated 3.6 million hectares - is used for upland sheep farming or mixed sheep and beef cattle. Even more land is used to produce the supplements fed to sheep when they need more than just grass – land that could be used to grow crops to feed us! The sheep farming sector only contributes around 7% of the total national income from farming, valued at £196 million in 2015. By comparison, Scotland’s soft fruit sector had an estimated worth of £128 million in 2015, generated across only 2200 hectares - less than 1% of the land used for agriculture.
'We could cut production by over 40% and still produce all the sheep meat we consume.'
It's true that much of the land used to graze sheep is unsuitable for other types of farming. And it might well be worth the investment of land and subsidies if sheep were feeding the nation. But they’re not. Scots eat less lamb than the English or Welsh, while meat consumption in general continues to decline. Even if all the sheep meat consumed in Scotland originated here, domestic demand would still only account for 31% of all the prime lamb produced on Scottish farms and 58% of all the sheep meat processed in Scotland. We could cut production by over 40% and still produce all the sheep meat we consume.
Clearly, we don’t depend on current stocking levels for our national food security, with much of what we produce exported. We do however, depend on imports for other essentials like timber. If the security of our national resources is a factor in decisions about land use, as farming unions so often insist, it’s surely worth considering whether sheep destined for export are worth more than timber needed at home. Or whether some land, in our national parks for example, might deliver other benefits if it supported fewer sheep, like increased resilience to flooding or greater biodiversity.

Hillsides that have been relieved of intense grazing pressure and are naturally re-wooding, slow the flow of water into river channels below, reducing the risk of flooding and erosion.
'Over its lifespan the average lynx could reasonably generate more than £2 million.'
We might then ask: how much is a sheep worth compared to a wild animal like a lynx? Some people assign an ‘existence value’ to such charismatic animals. Coming up with a precise figure is difficult, but the many millions donated to campaigns saving pandas and tigers should convince us this value is real. And there are tangible financial benefits too. There are now around 50 reintroduced lynx in Germany’s Harz Mountains, generating a reported £10 million each year for the local economy – or £200,000 per lynx. Over its lifespan the average lynx could thus generate more than £2 million. By contrast, lambs brought to market in Scotland rarely earn more than £150, while ewes might fetch £250, and a breeding tup around £400.



Charismatic wildlife is increasingly used to brand nature-rich rural areas, such as the town of Bad Schandau in Germany.
These comparisons may seem spurious, but the question of relative worth is thrown into sharp focus when we consider calls for the lethal control of habitual livestock killers. In Switzerland, a lynx may be killed if it’s confirmed to have predated 15 or more sheep within a single year – provided appropriate protections were in place at the time and all other options have been exhausted. However, when I joined Scottish farmers on a trip to Switzerland to learn about coexistence with lynx, most of them felt a threshold of 15 lost sheep was too high. Some felt a single attack was enough to justify killing a lynx.

Farmers, hunters and foresters from Scotland visiting Switzerland to learn about co-existence with lynx.
The economic logic of killing a lynx that may be worth millions to compensate a farmer for the loss of lambs worth hundreds is questionable. But the economic benefits of lynx are typically dispersed across multiple sectors of society – among foresters, nature guides and hospitality businesses – while a farmer’s loss is keenly felt by a single individual. And while a sheep’s worth is defined by much more than just its market value, a lynx’s worth is also far greater than the basic economic benefits it brings.
This is especially true in the early stages of any reintroduction, when the value of every animal is highest, because of its role in genetic diversity and in the investment made to release them. Reconciling the different values that different groups place on either lynx or sheep is therefore deeply complicated, and a move to reintroduce lynx in Scotland will require compromise on all sides.

'Both sheep and lynx have a profound non-economic value for many people, deeply rooted in the different emotional, cultural and socio-ecological value systems we all cherish.'
Opponents of rewilding tend to dismiss the return of lynx to Scotland as ‘wholly unacceptable’, as if any level of livestock loss is unthinkable, rather than the international norm. Conversely, lynx advocates sometimes downplay the risk of conflicts, as if sheep losses hardly matter. Both positions are extreme, ignoring the reality that both sheep and lynx have a profound non-economic value for many people, deeply rooted in the different emotional, cultural and socio-ecological value systems we all cherish.
'If we choose to, we could coexist with both lynx and sheep.'
Finding a compromise that acknowledges and at least partially accommodates all our different values won’t be easy. But if we choose to, we could coexist with both lynx and sheep. Many other countries do. Precisely how we might do so in Scotland is yet to be determined and the focus of ongoing discussions, but various systems for living alongside predators already exist in Europe. We have an opportunity to borrow from all that experience, to design a model that works best for Scotland.
Whichever path we take, a fair compromise will only be reached when we recognise that both lynx and sheep have significant, but in many ways incalculable, worth. Stretching far beyond basic economics, this worth is informed by the influence these animals have on our lives and how we experience the world – how they contribute to what makes life worth living. We should be wary of knowing the price of everything and the value of nothing. Whether your heart lies with lynx or with sheep, it pays to acknowledge the importance of both.