What way do you view war? I don’t mean as in is it good or bad. Rather, what catches your attention first and/or holds onto it the longest. Not being old enough to remember the ins and outs of the original Gulf War in 1991, it was obvious oil was at the heart thereof. Aside from that, knowledge in this seat was pretty much limited to the fact the mission was codenamed Operation Desert Storm and led by a General known as Stormin’ Norman.
War is no different from many aspects of life in that it is often the unseen or almost forgotten circumstances which end up being the most impactful. The trickle down effect, if you like.
It can only be assumed that commodoties like petrol, diesel – both regular and agricultural – and heating oil prices sky rocketed on foot of what was happening in Iraq. Which in turn, due to the law of unintended consequences, meant that things like silage, haymaking and the harvest were more expensive, ditto drying grain and any other process one cares to mention. Most fundamentally of course, heating ones home.
In relation to the last made point, it certainly has been a case of deja vu since Vladimir Putin began trying to blast the Ukranian people – God bless their defiant bravery – into submission persuant to his barely disguised objective of subsuming his neighbouring country into his own.
Back when international outrage was at its peak regarding the diminutive despot’s attempts to ignite World War III, a gentleman was encountered who was a driver for one of the bigger players in the Irish home heating oil market. He went on to tell me that he had recently collected a cheque worth €850 for 500 litres of Kerosine.
A farming neighbour, around the same time, told of paying €1/L for 1000L of agri diesel. Now, obviously, prices fluctuate, but even so, when last I had occasion to fill a tractor’s tank, in August 2020, it came in at 76c/L. That’s some inflation in less then two years.
However, what’s most disconcerting is the level to which, consciously or otherwise, events in Ukraine have, to some extent, slipped down the radar of the general populus. When major world events begin, there is a need to be right up to date with what’s going on.
A hunger for it, a fascination with and almost a dark, veiled excitement. Enabled by a combination rolling news channels, cutting-edge assistive technologies and social media.
However, even with the rapidity at which the world moves these days and we in turn know about it, eventually our mind’s Sat Nav hones in on other matters. Such as the return to normalcy after the chaos to which the world was subjected at the behest of Covid-19.
Or, in another parts of the world, simpletons who people thought would know better, having parties while the rest of the world was doing their bit to curtail what Coronavirus was doing. Another example, the Assembly elections in Northern Ireland.
Yet the virus remains prevalent, and, the war rumbles on. One sector of society which is absolutely absorbed by what’s going on in Ukraine is agriculture. The reason? A large percentage of the world’s fertiliser requirements are tended to by the Russians.
That’s without even thinking about diesel, lubricants and all the other facets of farming which will be stifled if the uncertainty which is unavoidable by-product of war kicks in.
A simple example – if export markets for, say, Irish beef are negatively effected, every other sector of agriculture takes a hit. The beef finisher, naturally, takes the biggest hit. But the tillage operation and their suckler and dairy counterparts get caught in the crossfire.
The first lot actually take a double whammy. Grain prices will most likely become depressed as the finishers become cautious regarding outlay. That in turn has a knock-on impact for dairy enterprises that offload calves to the beef sector. Ditto the suckler people whose bread and butter is selling their young stock on to the ‘shed men’ as weanlings or stores.
***
Now, plenty of people know, but due to a cacophony of circumstances, to my indescribable upset, I have felt disconnected from farming in recent months. Mainly, I suppose because the boss is no longer here. Also, however, that I’ve no stock of my own at present.
It has felt as if, with the cattle gone, even thinking one was a farmer anymore was nothing but fraud. To the extent that there are Memorium Cards for members of the local fraternity undelivered, the Farmer’s Journal hasn’t been bought in months and – until very recently – farming videos couldn’t be watched on YouTube.
That the videos are back on the agenda should be telling mind you. There may be a turn in the road ahead, mind you. It’s been a long and winding road, and there will most likely be further potholes ahead, but there could be value in playing the long game.
Keeping in mind a quote da used often throw my way, from a deceased local publican a long, long time ago: “When everyone else is getting out of something, you get into it”.
For now, looking at input prices that are probably going to get worse before they get better, while sitting on it won’t be an option, parking beside the fence will do me for a while yet.
Fág freagra