As extreme heat becomes the norm, these farmers choose a different way of life (Part 2)

Focusing on production, life, and ecology sounds wonderful. But beyond feeding themselves, farmers certainly hope to earn a dignified living, send their children to better schools, and be able to afford hospital care for sick family members. The reality is that smallholders are currently being systematically excluded by our agricultural policies and market systems; for example, subsidies, land policies, and even some ‘advanced’ tech-driven agricultural aid all encourage large-scale farming. This creates a situation where production costs per unit of land are relatively higher for smallholders. So we wonder: is ‘ecological agriculture’ today an unattainable niche for smallholders, or is it a viable way out given that they cannot compete with industrial agriculture?

We go to the villages and talk to the people. We ask: if there are no pesticides, chemical fertilisers, or hybrid seeds, can you still farm? The farmers say they cannot. And the result? From machinery to buying seeds, pesticides, and plastic mulch—the whole package means that in a good year they barely break even, and in a bad year, they lose money. What does this mean for the smallholder? High costs, low returns; high dependence, low autonomy.

To what extent do farmers and local governments embrace the path of ecological agriculture?

Initially, the government paid little attention to ecological agriculture, so there was little in the way of resources or policy support. This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, as it meant there was no significant interference. However, we have seen in the last two years that ecological agriculture trials in various villages are beginning to show results, and some local governments are gradually starting to take notice and provide publicity for various reasons.

If the government takes this seriously, it helps the process in two ways: first, the people gain more confidence, as recognition from the local government is very important to them. Second, the process of scaling—from one village to another, and then to many more—becomes smoother.

Additionally, for some villagers, establishing external sales channels is crucial. However, this is not our forte; connecting with external markets is a significant challenge. For instance, in the villages of Panzhihua, where agricultural produce is the primary livelihood, there is a real need to consider how to sell the products. In the Jianyang village, the volume of ecological produce from the collective economy is also quite large, but we find it difficult to support their entry into the market. To some extent, this influences their planting choices. Currently, ecological products from Jianyang are mainly sold through social circles, and because it is a collective economy, there is also procurement support from the local government.

Over a decade ago, while working with Community Partners, I began working on CSA (Community Supported Agriculture), urban-rural interaction, urban farming, and markets, and I discovered how difficult it is. The market is a perennial challenge; connecting with external markets requires a wide range of capabilities. This includes not just the market itself, but also quality control, customer service, packaging, and promotion. These are areas where we lack expertise, and we have no intention of developing these capabilities ourselves. Because these issues require collaborative solutions, we are looking for other resources to handle this part, hoping to provide capacity-building support for the villages. The role of a platform is essential here.

It depends on whether they are farming for production or for a way of life. In fact, with the exception of Panzhihua, the other project villages consist mainly of left-behind elderly residents, whose primary desire is to eat healthily. For example, Uncle Luo in Ya’an is in his 70s and still tends to over two mu of paddy fields and over two mu of dry land. He finds it distressing to stop. This generation has a deep emotional connection to the land; they cannot bear to see it go waste, and their own dietary needs can be met. For this group, farming often serves first to satisfy their own needs, which is also a way of reducing external dependence and achieving community autonomy.

They care not only for their own health but for that of their families. This year, someone from an ecological food sales platform asked if they could visit the project villages to speak with the farmers and buy their ecological rice. Last year in Sichuan, the price of our paddy was roughly 2.7 to 3 yuan per kilogram. That person offered 6 yuan per kilogram. The villagers refused to sell. Even when the offer was increased to 8 yuan, they still refused. They said that having worked so hard to grow such healthy, high-quality rice, they must keep it for their own families and give it to relatives, friends, and their children working in the city. At the same time, there is a prevailing sentiment among the farmers that with current climate change, while they can grow this rice this year, it is a question mark whether they can do so next year; therefore, they must stockpile it. They are thinking about the future.

In Panzhihua, there are more young people in the village; they are the primary labour force and the ones making production decisions. Although they face sales pressure, they are mindful of the market. Seeing the preference for “native” products, they also want to preserve old varieties. Although old rice varieties are difficult to push into the market, they think: what if an opportunity arises later? In the future, these old varieties may have greater commercial value, but once lost, they can never be recovered. Even if they are hard to sell now, by growing them for their own consumption, they ensure that the seeds are at least still there when needed.

We recently held a reading group for *Vanishing Foods*. One of the protagonists in the book is a Sichuan farmer, Sun Wenxiang, who grows an old variety called “Red-beak glutinous rice” on his family ecological farm in Meishan; it has a very unique taste. Thanks to the reading group, we were able to taste this rice. Many people heard about it and asked us for a purchase link. But in reality, Uncle Sun doesn’t need to sell it this way. Most of his grains, vegetables, and meat are sold through his own social circles; if you don’t know him, you can only buy them at the Chengdu Life Market, which happens once a month. Because so many people have recently wanted to buy the Red-beak glutinous rice, I asked Uncle Sun, and he said they have to wait for the new autumn harvest.

This is a very successful example of an ecological farmer.

We have also found that many organisations invest a great deal of effort into creating livelihood conditions in an attempt to attract young people back to the village. In reality, the challenge is immense; it is far more realistic to cultivate a core team of people in their fifties. Our current work focuses primarily on the elderly, and we must recognise their characteristics: they have less livelihood pressure, a deep affection for the village, and a wealth of indigenous wisdom.

I look at it from another perspective: how those who remain in the village can live well and care for their community. For those working away, it ensures that when they wish to return, they can, and that the good things in the village have been preserved.

Moreover, the elderly continue to farm not only to provide healthy ingredients for their families but also to uphold the calling of the farmer. This is why we believe we should not rush into a model of total land transfer where everyone becomes a wage labourer for large-scale landowners. Setting aside the economic arguments, we must first provide supportive conditions for those who, for whatever reason, are still willing to farm, so they can tend the land with peace of mind and maintain their dignity as workers. Farmers have professional dignity, and this is a point that is often overlooked.

This is why emphasising agency and an internal perspective is a core principle of our work. Our approach is as follows: First, break away from the mindset of modern agriculture and broaden the understanding of agriculture’s diverse values, rather than limiting them to yield and income; otherwise, we only narrow our own path. Second, the villagers themselves are the primary agents of change. We often hear about ageing, hollowing out, and atomisation, where everyone only looks after their own interests. Therefore, we must restore community customs and create diverse spaces for villagers to participate—not just in the planting process, but in local life. Farming culture is a local way of living. Third, tap into local traditional wisdom and resources, seeing the potential within the community rather than just the problems. Fourth, carry out organisational building to enhance the community’s awareness and capacity for collective action. I personally find this crucial—addressing rural environmental issues as part of the overall sustainable development of the village, rather than treating symptoms piecemeal.

As a social organisation partnering with villagers, our value proposition is simple: farm well, eat well, live well.

Unless otherwise noted, images are provided by Home Action

Compiled by: Ling Yu, Xiao Qi, Yu Yang