Thinking of our farmers

As I write, England has recently sweltered under a record-smashing May heatwave, the culmination of a drier-than-usual spring.

Heather Oldfield, South Lincolnshire National Farmers Union County Chairman, showed Radio 4’s Farming Today her “stressed” winter wheat, and her “patchy” spring barley, and wonders whether she’ll even be planting a spring crop next year. Meanwhile, at Low Sizergh farm in Cumbria, panting cattle and sheep sought respite in the shade.

The problem isn’t so much the heat, as the unpredictability. This spring is hot, last year was a drought, but the one before was the wettest for 70 years. What to plant – drought resistant or flood resistant – and when? What breeds of livestock to keep? How to afford irrigation investment, and is it even viable? Farmers, incredibly resilient as they are, have always had to deal with variable weather. So we’d be fools not to pay attention when they say weather patterns are changing, becoming more erratic, more unpredictable. That it’s becoming more difficult to reliably grow food here.

Now, I’m not (yet) worried about global food production – last year’s cereal crop, along with most others, was the biggest ever, the continuation of an upward trend. And I’m not (yet) worried about putting food on our plates – food security is achieved not primarily by national self-reliance but by resilient international trade networks (with caveats for times of war). But I love eating British food and want to see British farmers flourishing, so the worry is that mild temperate Britain may come to be among the worst-affected by the changing climate.

Europe is by quite some distance the fastest heating continent, and the Arctic even faster. Sitting as we do, on the edge of Europe, just out into the Atlantic, our weather has long been dictated by warm water and warm air flowing from the equator to the Arctic. As the temperature difference between the Arctic and the equator narrows, those flows slow and become more erratic, and along with them, our weather. All the signs are we should expect greater volatility in the coming decades.

The best way forward for farming, however, may well lie in more-Biblical farming practices. The Law and the Prophets have a lot to say about farming. Harvesting, gleaning, sabbath, Jubilee, land that works for the farmer, the poor and wildlife. Just one example of many – “Whatever the land yields during the sabbath year will be food for you … your livestock and the wild animals in your land.” (Lev. 25v6-7) – gives a glimpse of the Biblical picture for our countryside.

For decades the European Common Agricultural Policy incentivised British farmers to hyper-efficient, chemical-intensive crop specialisation, grubbing out hedges and filling ponds, barely increasing profits, but hugely increasing exposure to climate risks. Cumbrian Low Sizergh farm, by contrast, has been future-proofing itself for years. Holistic thinking, mob-grazing, feed-crop diversity, new wider, higher hedges, soil rejuvenation, resilient livestock, fewer antibiotics. “For the vast majority of farms, I think it’s completely unnecessary to be using nitrogen, pesticides, insecticides,” says Richard at Low Sizergh. At least when it’s hot, his livestock have somewhere to shelter.

Good for the farmer, good for animal welfare, good for the land, good for the community and good for production. Good for climate resilience, good for carbon capture and good for wildlife. Miraculous? Or just farming as God intended (and still intends)? This kind of farming creates a new (or restores an older) balance in our countryside – one that works for flourishing people and flourishing wildlife, closer to Biblical shalom.

Of course, with rapidly rising temperatures – this year is set to be yet another unwelcome global record-breaker – there are no panaceas. Our best chances, though, surely lie in healthy soils, healthy eco-systems, diverse, resilient, mixed farming; a way of farming closer to God’s way. However, this isn’t yet the norm. So, what can those of us who are not farmers, who rarely encounter a live chicken, do? It’s back to “supermarket-aisle discipleship”: not just hoping to convert the cashier, but making godly choices about the food we buy. It takes a bit of effort, but isn’t it worth it, to be aligned with God’s way for the flourishing of people and all creation?