It’s time for a revolution in British farming

This July had the distinction of being England’s driest since 1935, 8 of the 14 areas in England have been declared to be in drought, wildfires have destroyed crops and scourged grasslands in Kent, Pembrokeshire, and Cornwall, and our water system (the only fully privatised one in the world) is designed to put profits ahead of consistent water availability, resulting in taps running dry in Surrey, no new reservoirs since privatisation, and leakages of up to 50%.

The water crisis on its own would be enough to give most farmers sleepless nights, but it comes on the heels of soaring fuel prices that have squeezed the already minimal margins characteristic of the industry.

Back in April, skyrocketing fuel costs had already put the viability of many farming businesses into question; when diesel costs have tripled, it doesn’t just increase the cost of running your own tractor, but affects prices all through the farm system, such as livestock feed, hay and silage, straw for bedding, fertiliser, and other inputs. This in turn has knock-on effects throughout the wider food system.

So when rain failed to materialise again, and again, and weather people and meteorologists were congratulating the public on “ another glorious week ahead”, the costs to farmers accumulated. Fields crackled and fried, forcing some farmers to begin feeding their animals precious stockpiles of winter forage, meaning they’ll be forced to buy what little hay and silage that comes onto the market at extortionate cost just to see them through the winter. On the arable end of the equation, farmers are estimating crop failures of 50 percent in carrots, onions, and apples, and farmers are being forced to decide whether to invest labour and inputs into drilling crops for next year into cracked, dry earth; a potentially business-ending loss if the drought continues as expected. Many farmers will play it safe, compounding likely food shortages next year.

And next year is not guaranteed to be better. Droughts such as we are experiencing throughout Europe are likely to become increasingly common, and extreme, as climate breakdown continues. Politicians such as new PM Liz Truss, who laments solar farms on fields in place of livestock (conveniently forgetting that most solar farms pay farmers to graze their sheep under the panels to keep the vegetation down) refuse to recognise that leaning into energy independence through fossil fuels, rather than renewables, will condemn the farming industry more surely than almost any other policy.

In the face of increasing food insecurity and supply chain instability, there is likely to be a call for intensifying domestic food production. The worry is that this will be pursued in ways that may contribute to our food security in the very short-term, but in the long-term will leave us increasingly vulnerable to further disruptions in the global supply chain, or environmental disasters. Doubling down on the same practices that have already depleted our soils and left us reliant on external imports cannot be considered a serious strategy to improve domestic food security; even if it were, any short-term increases to our productivity would be undermined in the long-term by our failure to mitigate climate breakdown.

So what are farmers to do? As has been the case throughout history, there are myriad factors outside of their control — there is little that can be done about the cost of diesel, or global supplies of wheat, or supply chain failures. But, as many are recognising, the key is to recognise that these crises are no longer anomalies, or one-off periods of bad luck. The new normal will be characterised by volatility and those who base their business models on best case scenarios are, frankly, doomed. Instead, we should be redesigning our farm system with resilience and independence in mind.

Many farmers are already turning down this path, and it begins by paying increased attention to the ground beneath our feet. There is a growing awareness both within the farming community and without, that we must, as a society, invest in protecting and restoring the health of our soils. Healthy soil is not just an inert medium for growing food — it serves a myriad of ecological functions, the extent of which we are just beginning to understand, even while scientists warn us that our farming practices have degraded millions of acres of soil, with some arable areas experiencing 40–60% depletion of soil organic matter, costing the UK £1.2 billion per annum. We do know, however, that healthy soils are far more resilient to extreme weather events such as drought, and flooding. Healthy soil acts as a sponge, increasing the land’s ability to absorb significant volumes of water in heavy rainfall; degraded soils are unable to absorb water quickly enough, if at all, causing it to run off and cause flooding, soil erosion, and pollution. Healthy soils are also more capable of storing water and keeping it available for plants during periods of extended drought, leading to more resilient water tables, ecosystems, and farms. Incidentally, the soil’s ability to perform these functions is hugely shaped by the health of the bacteria and fungi that inhabit and shape it, which are severely impacted by pesticides, fungicides, and synthetic fertilisers — a strong case for organic practices.

Crucially, farmers who decide to place the resilience of their soils at the heart of their farming practices are not just protecting their farms from increasingly common environmental shocks; they also are creating the opportunity to better insulate themselves from disruptions in global supply chains. For example, a livestock farmer looking to reduce their reliance on expensive inputs might want to keep their stock outside for longer in winter, in order to lower their feed, straw, and diesel costs. Or they may look into finishing their animals entirely on grass rather than bought-in grain. These practices are all dependent on vibrant, diverse pastures, which in turn, grow from healthy soils.

Improving the health of our soils is not a panacea; it does not address policy barriers, or supply chain issues, or global crises. But it is a start, and importantly it is a shift in mindset that can only serve us well in the agricultural revolution that lies ahead of us, one which we either undertake willingly, or are forced into. For our sake I hope it is the former, and that we collaborate openly with one another to build a more resilient, robust, and fair farming future.