Britain and Europe are enduring one of its most punishing agricultural seasons in recent memory. Successive heatwaves and persistent lack of rain through the spring and summer have depleted soil moisture across large parts of western, central and eastern Europe. Yield forecasts for winter crops have been revised downwards, summer crops such as maize and sunflowers face reductions of six to seven per cent or more in places, and grain losses already run into millions of tonnes. France has recorded historic low maize prospects; Romania has lost vast areas of the crop. Rivers run low, wildfires rage, and the outlook is for further dry weather. The result is tighter European supply, greater reliance on imports, and upward pressure on global commodity prices.
At the same time Ukraine, once the breadbasket of Europe and a vital exporter of wheat and maize, continues to operate under the shadow of prolonged war. Production estimates for 2026 hover around 22–24 million tonnes of wheat, broadly in line with recent years, but the conflict has constrained logistics by closing, or very much restricting, the operating capacity of Ukrainian (and Russian) ports, raised costs, damaged infrastructure and introduced chronic uncertainty. International shipping now avoids the Black Sea almost entirely. Stocks provide a buffer, but the volume and reliability of Ukrainian grain reaching world markets remain well below the country’s pre-war potential. When a major supplier is compromised, even modest shortfalls elsewhere amplify price volatility.
On top of these stresses is the real risk of disruption in the Strait of Hormuz. The Persian Gulf region accounts for a substantial share of globally traded nitrogen fertilisers, urea and ammonia. Countries in and around the Gulf supply a very large fraction of urea and a significant portion of ammonia. Any sustained restriction on shipping through Hormuz will tighten fertiliser supply, raise prices sharply and hit farmers just as they plan next season’s plantings. The United Kingdom – for insane Net Zero reasons – no longer manufactures significant volumes of nitrogen fertiliser and relies on imports from the EU and, indirectly, Middle Eastern sources via global trade. A rise in fertiliser costs will reduce application rates, lower yields further and embed higher production costs into food prices for years.
Taken together, these pressures point to a period of high food-price inflation and potential shortages of certain staples. Britain, as a net importer of food, is badly exposed. Global markets transmit shocks quickly. European shortfalls, plus constrained Black Sea exports and dearer fertiliser equal higher import bills for wheat, feed grains and finished products. Low-income households feel the pain first. Inflation in food already erodes real wages; further rises would deepen the squeeze.
So far as I am aware, the fanatics and fantasists in government are doing nothing to make us more self-sufficient. In fact, a reasonable argument can be made that they are making things worse. Some even ask if they are doing this deliberately to engineer a situation that they can use to justify totalitarian control. For a serious government, concerned about the welfare of the people, food security is national security. A nation that cannot feed itself in a crisis is strategically vulnerable. Britain should therefore treat agricultural capacity as critical infrastructure and pursue genuine resilience rather than rhetorical targets.
First, we must reverse the long decline in domestic production. The UK was roughly 78 per cent self-sufficient in the 1980s but that is now much lower. We should set a clear, mandatory minimum of about 75–80 per cent for domestically produced indigenous foods, backed by guaranteed financial support policy certainty. Farmers cannot invest in land improvement, drainage, irrigation or new technology under constant policy churn, not least the threat of punitive taxation. A stable, long-term agriculture budget that rewards output is essential. Public-sector procurement should prioritise British produce, creating a reliable domestic market.
Second, we must restore fertiliser security. The closure of UK nitrogen plants on spurious environmental grounds left the country dependent on imports. Strategic stockpiles of key fertilisers, incentives for domestic production and diversified long-term contracts would blunt, if not reverse, the impact of Hormuz-type shocks. Research into precision application, organic alternatives and nitrogen-fixing crops should be accelerated, but these are complements, not substitutes for reliable inorganic supply in the near term. Obviously, scrapping the utterly absurd net zero policy is essential.
Third, expand productive capacity. Britain has much under-used land. Targeted grants for drainage, reservoir construction and efficient irrigation would raise yields and planning rules should treat food production as an essential consideration, not an afterthought. Investment in plant breeding, genomics and controlled-environment agriculture (glasshouses, vertical farming for high-value crops) can raise output per hectare while reducing weather risk. Livestock and dairy systems need secure feed supplies, and that means supporting domestic protein crops and avoiding policies that deliberately shrink the herd or flock for non-agricultural reasons. And it goes without saying that all this re-wilding and paying farmers not to grow food must stop.
Fourth, overhaul the regulatory and incentive structure. Idiotic environmental land management schemes have too often paid farmers not to produce. Public money should enhance public welfare, soil health, water storage and rural infrastructure, while still prioritising food output. Import standards must be enforced so that British producers are not undercut by food grown to lower animal-welfare or environmental standards. Trade deals should never sacrifice food security for marginal gains elsewhere.
Fifth, build buffer stocks and shorten supply chains. Modest strategic grain reserves, improved storage and processing capacity, and regional food hubs would reduce the impact of short-term disruptions. Consumer education and labelling that highlights British origin can shift demand. Reducing food waste—still substantial—effectively increases available supply without extra land or fertiliser.
Sixth, confront energy and water constraints. Fertilisers, glasshouses and processing plants need affordable energy. A credible domestic energy policy that delivers reliable, low-cost power is a precondition for competitive agriculture. Water abstraction and storage infrastructure must be modernised; droughts are, after all, a statistical certainty, and reliance on summer rainfall is no longer prudent.
None of these measures requires autarky. The goal is resilience: the ability to feed the population adequately if global markets seize up for months or years. That means higher domestic production, diversified inputs, and contingency stocks.
The obstacles to all this are, of course, political. The current regime has shown a consistent preference for woke ideology over practicality and the nation’s welfare. Farm policy has been subordinated to net-zero targets and ‘nature-recovery’ policies that treat productive agriculture as a problem rather than a solution. Inheritance-tax changes and planning restrictions discourage long-term investment in family farms. Energy policy has driven up costs for fertiliser production. Regulation multiplies while capital support remains uncertain. Rhetoric about “food security” is frequent but the hard choices required to achieve it are avoided.
As we all know, a government that views farming primarily through the lens of climate atonement and land-use change will not prioritise output. It will continue to import cheaper food while congratulating itself on lower domestic emissions, ignoring the fact that emissions are simply displaced overseas and the strategic vulnerability created at home. Socialist instincts favour control, redistribution and symbolic targets over the messy, capital-intensive business of growing more food efficiently. Farmers, smaller family ones at least, are treated as residual pests on the landscape rather than as producers of a strategic good. Until that mindset changes, Britain will remain exposed to every drought in France, every missile near Odessa and every tanker delayed in the Gulf.
The evidence of 2026 is already clear. Europe’s fields are stressed, Ukraine’s exports are constrained, and fertiliser markets sit on a geopolitical fault line. Food inflation will rise and shortages of particular items may appear. A competent state would treat this as a warning and act decisively to rebuild capacity. The present one will issue statements, commission reviews and hope the markets remain kind. Hope is not a strategy. Self-sufficiency is.
(UKR)