Mark Apsey

British beef, milk, lamb and veg do not arrive by magic. They arrive because someone was up before dawn, walking stock through fields that had already burned brown, calculating whether the winter silage would last, and still making payroll when the harvest came in short. This year has been one of the hardest in living memory for many of them. Summer 2026 brought the hottest conditions on record and a prolonged drought. Grass stopped growing. Dairy farms in the West Country and elsewhere had to break open clamps meant for winter and buy in feed; one Wiltshire family put the extra cost above £100,000, plus lost milk yield. Cereal yields collapsed in the worst-hit areas - wheat down by half on some Gloucestershire farms, spring barley and beans more than 50% lower across parts of the South West. National figures point to one of the lowest cereal harvests on record, with wheat alone estimated hundreds of millions of pounds down in value and livestock producers facing tens of millions more just to replace missing forage. Straw was scarce. Water for irrigation ran short. Farmers described it as soul-destroying and the hardest summer in a generation. On top of the weather came disease. Bluetongue (BTV-3) produced the worst season yet, with more than 2,200 cases recorded and the virus reaching further north, including into Scotland for the first time. Sheep and cattle needed constant checking; fallen-stock costs rose; movement and trading became more complicated. Warmer conditions have helped the midges that spread it. Money has been tight at the same time. Input costs - feed, fertiliser, energy, fuel - have squeezed margins for years. Recent surveys found 87% of farmers saying those costs significantly hit profitability, more than a quarter reporting a loss or break-even, and many others clearing only 1–5%. Average farm incomes after poor seasons have been low. Cashflow is described as at crisis point on some holdings: money that should have gone into next year’s seed, fertiliser or replacement stock has already been spent keeping animals fed. Policy has added another layer. Changes to agricultural and business property relief for inheritance tax, due from April 2026, were partially softened after tractor protests (the full-relief threshold rose to £2.5 million, or higher for couples). Even so, a Country Land and Business Association survey found nearly nine in ten rural family businesses had paused investment - machinery, reservoirs, diversification - because they still expect bills they cannot meet from cash. Some are deliberately shrinking or devaluing holdings. Asset-rich and cash-poor remains the classic farm problem: land and stock look valuable on paper, yet selling a quarter or more of the farm is what many say would be required to pay the tax. Wider policy uncertainty (schemes, trade, environmental rules) is cited by 86% as damaging their ability to plan. Only a small minority express confidence that Britain can secure its own food supply long-term; around two in five have questioned whether they will still be farming in a decade. Trade pressure sits underneath it all. Cheaper imports produced to different standards continue to set the price, so a short domestic harvest does not automatically mean a better return at the farm gate. None of this is abstract. It is early starts, late finishes, decisions about which animals to keep and which crops are no longer worth drilling, and families trying to hand something viable to the next generation while the weather, the disease risk and the balance sheet all move against them. Next time the label says “British”, it is worth remembering the people who produced it - through a drought that halved harvests, a disease outbreak that demanded daily vigilance, and costs and tax rules that have left many wondering how long they can keep going.