Farmers in the face of climate crisis
Much have been said about the Philippines being a high-risk country for disasters. In fact, according to the latest World Risk Report, the Philippines scored highest on the disaster risk index. While this vulnerability is often attributed to the country’s geographic location, social scientists argue that disasters are also shaped by social, economic, and political factors.
The recent consecutive catastrophic typhoons have once again highlighted the country’s long-standing vulnerability to climate change, with the agriculture sector consistently bearing the biggest brunt. Despite an average of 20 typhoons a year, we seem to be regressing in mitigating their adverse effects. With economic losses already reaching record highs and affecting hundreds of thousands of hectares of farmland, our farmers find themselves once again at the receiving end of devastation.
It would be easy for some to put the blame on the farmers themselves. Some might say they should have heeded calls from the local government and weather bureau to prepare for the typhoons’ onslaught much earlier. They could have moved their equipment and materials to safer ground, or harvested their mature crops before the typhoons come. It is tempting to view their predicament as a result of poor preparation, complacency, or both. However, sociologist C. Wright Mills cautions that what we often perceive as personal troubles are, in fact, rooted in broader social structures and processes, and should not be seen merely as individual issues.
In my conversations with smallholder rice farmers in Laguna, I realized that what they are facing is far more complex than it appears. Due to their repeated exposure to typhoons, they have actually come to accept and normalize their situation. As one farmer expressed, “Wala namang magagawa, kumbaga panahon na ‘yun eh. Wala namang may gusto nun (There’s nothing we can do; it’s the weather, after all. Nobody wants this to happen).”
For them, it is a force of nature beyond their control. However, they spoke about problems that they directly attribute to systemic failures. How could they possibly harvest their crops, even mature ones, ahead of time when they lack basic equipment like drying machines? Even if they manage to salvage some crops, opportunistic middlemen often exploit the situation, buying at prices below market rates.
These farmers also have limited resources, often relying on loans to raise capital. When their farmlands are washed out or submerged, they are left empty-handed and further trapped in debt. Furthermore, how can they quickly transport equipment when accessible roads are limited, or leave their animals behind, knowing these are their only valuable assets? Indeed, it is not a lack of foresight on their part; rather, it is due to structural barriers that continue to hold them back and weigh them down.
In the face of the climate crisis, we must rethink and reevaluate the ways we treat our agricultural sector. Let us ask: what can be done for our farming communities to become more resilient to the impacts of climate change?
First, we have to listen to them. Our farmers have long called for institutional reforms, such as support for modernization. They appeal for assistance to acquire equipment such as harvesting machines that will make emergency harvest easier, drying machines so they can dry their palay indoors, and post-harvest storage facilities to ensure them an ample supply for a long period of time.
Moreover, they urge a more direct connection with consumers and the elimination of usurious intermediaries who exploit their vulnerable situations. The state should also provide them with a safety net—make crop insurance policies more accessible to as many farmers as possible. This can act as a fallback during crises to help them recover quickly and avoid falling into the vicious cycle of debt. Time and again, the one-size-fits-all, top-down approach has proven ineffective. A bottom-up approach, therefore, may be the way forward.
Finally, we must demand accountability. Our farmers have been made resilient by necessity, not by choice. Instead of shifting the risks onto the already burdened shoulders of our farmers, the state should be more proactive in supporting our agriculture sector. Many wonder why farmers are gradually abandoning their fields and why the youth in farming communities are no longer interested in agriculture. The answer is blatantly clear: farming in this country is full of risks, a gamble with no guaranteed returns.
Farmers do not need our pity—they need empowerment. And as long as those in positions of power deny them the means to uplift themselves, they will continue to be victims.
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John Patrick P. Habacon is a graduate student of sociology and a social science professor at the Lyceum of the Philippines University-Laguna.
