For
those standing on the precipice of life the impacts of climate change
are an ever present reality. The rural poor in Southeast Asia are some
of the most vulnerable to climate extremes and seasonal vagaries. For
these farmers, many who live at subsistence level and survive on less
that $1US a day, life is a high-wire act with no safety net.
One stroke of bad luck – a drought, flood or pest outbreak – and they
tumble further into hardship. Yet, here in Cambodia I work at an
agricultural research centre with the most humbling and inspiring
people. Not a day goes by that I don’t stand in awe at an
under-resourced team committed to moving mountains despite the odds
lined up against them.
It perhaps follows that those who stare so closely at the face of
climate change talk only of pertinent matters. The health of their
family and community, having enough food to feed them, the quality of
their water sources and the condition of their natural environment.
In remote villages where farmers have never had the opportunity of
formal education and remain largely cut off from the developed world,
you will meet the most thoughtful, funny and stimulating people. What
strikes me most forcibly however, is their descriptions of the new
insects eating their crops that they had never seen before, or their
knowledge of how the dry season is extending each year with exhausting
heat sucking their soils dry. They know exactly how their climate – and
their world – is changing.
Just over 6,000 kms away is my family’s farm. Located in far western
NSW, Broken Hill is known for mining, good pub meals and drag queens. My
family purchased our outback sheep station in the year 2000. The start
of the decade long Millennium Drought. Tipped head first into volatility
of agriculture, it was immediately apparent how interconnected
individual components of a farming system are. As we all know, when the
rain doesn’t come, less vegetation grows, livestock are sold at reduced
weights, crop yields are not achieved, less money in the farmer’s pocket
means off-farm employment is sought, and shops in rural towns close.
The far west is an ancient environment. A challenging environment.
And an extremely fragile one. Acacias stunted and twisted by the harsh
scorch of the desert offer the cool reprieve of shade to lonely sheep. I
find this landscape hauntingly beautiful, and impossible not to fall in
love with.
Yet, it is projected that this region will become hotter, drier and
experience more frequent dust storms that choke and darken the sky.
Species that evolved over millennia face uncertain futures, and the
guardians of these precious habitats are concerned. The viability of
farming in this region hangs on tenterhooks, and as someone who dreams
of taking on the family farm one day – that’s terribly sobering for me.
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| Australian farmer Anika Molesworth |
Farmers live and work so closely with the environment. When they
speak about the natural world – gnarled River Red gums on the creek bank
or the wedgetail eagle sentry that perches near the front gate – it is
with easy intimacy, as if talking about an old friend.
Recent studies have found
nine in 10 farmers are concerned about damage to the climate. They are
experiencing rapid alteration to their land and regional weather
patterns. Two-thirds of farmers say they have observed changes in
rainfall patterns in their life-time or time of farming.
For
a farmer, “the country” doesn’t denote just a particular geographical
environment, but rather a cultural space alive and evolving, full of
stories and memories. It provides sustenance for the mind and spirit, a
living which supports families and the vibrancy of rural communities.
However, behind a farmer’s stoicism one can glimpse endless sequences of
fracture and repair. They dread the sombre hollow tone of a dry
northerly wind in summer. There is a growing anxiety about bushfires in
many parts of the country with predictions of higher temperatures and
longer heatwaves. Eighty-two per cent of regional Australians are
particularly concerned about droughts and floods and how these will effect crop production and food supply.
One of the defining challenges of our time is meeting the needs of a
growing global population, amidst increasingly challenging climatic
conditions whilst reducing our environmental footprint.
How can we feed everyone without harming the planet we are intending
to sustain? It is by no means an easy task. And we cannot tackle the
challenges of the 21st century and beyond with 20th century thinking and
technology. We need to continually seek new information, a better
understanding of how our world works, and improve our human interaction
with it.
Continued research, development and extension is essential. Support
and investment in agricultural and environmental sciences is pivotal.
Farmers need new and innovative pathways to be identified and the
support structures put in place to ensure they are made accessible and
affordable, so they can be adopted on a large scale. This means good
science and access to information, encouraging creative and critical
perspectives to disrupt the status quo, financial backing and investment
security.
With collaboration and coordination among policy makers, industry,
consumers, farmers, researchers and supporting agencies we will be able
to find and implement practical solutions to the threats climate change
presents the agricultural industry.
We do not have the luxury of time for merry-go-round debate or the
patience for political apathy. Farmers around the world – from
subsistence rice farmers in Southeast Asia to arid outback sheep
graziers in Australia – are feeling the heat.
Despite the diversity of this industry and medley of cultures and
technologies shaped by unique environments, there is commonality in the
challenges facing farmers exposed to climate change and plentiful
opportunity that can be reaped if the right platforms are put in place.
The other similarity I see between farmers around the world – is the
glint in their eyes that they are not about to give up.
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