Jan 2025
Holding the line in a year that kept moving the goalposts
There’s a moment every autumn, somewhere between the last grain lorry rumbling out of the yard on its way to central storage and the first drill making its opening pass, when I catch myself believing the new season might just play ball. It’s fleeting, lasting about as long as it takes me to finish a cup of tea, but it’s enough to set me up for the next round of decisions, compromises and cautious optimism that come with British arable farming.
This year, we held our nerve and drilled winter wheat in mid‑October, after letting a decent chit of blackgrass appear. I’ll admit I walked those fields in the evenings, doing my usual mental arithmetic on soil temperature, rainfall and how many days of weather luck we might have left. Blackgrass still sets the rhythm, and 2025 was no different. On our stubborn heavy clays, you either get conditions perfect or pay for it all winter. Too soon and you’re inviting weeds, too late and you’re risking a mud‑wrestling match that will haunt you until spring.
Thankfully, the Horsch Avatar did its job: consistent depth, tidy placement, minimal disturbance. Wheat establishment is even, strong and, I’ll whisper it rather than say it, the best start we’ve had in years.
Like many others, we’ve leaned further into spring cropping. Spring barley still ticks several boxes: weed control, a bit of a premium when the market behaves and straw for the growing beef. With grain markets dragging, we’re feeding home‑grown barley for the first time, and so far, it’s proving its worth. In a moment of bravery, we’re trying spring beans in 2026 too. Grass continues to be the unsung hero here, offering reliability for forage, soil rest and weed management.
One thing I genuinely welcome from Minette Batters’ Farming Profitability Review is its push for clearer long-term direction, stronger supply chain fairness and better data-driven decision-making: all actions that feel grounded in the real world of farming rather than theory. The review’s emphasis on boosting resilience, improving business confidence and recognising farming’s wider economic value gives me hope that the sector is finally being heard at policy level.
And while there’s no silver bullet, the call for coordinated action and for government to put farming at the centre of food, environmental and trade policy feels like exactly the kind of reset we need.
It’s also encouraging to see the focus on practical innovation, home-grown solutions and reducing reliance on imports. That ties directly into our own decision to bring spring beans into the 2026 rotation: a small but meaningful step towards producing more of our own protein on farm. Not only does it strengthen our agronomy and support soil health, but it also aligns with the review’s message that boosting domestic production where possible is key to building a profitable, resilient future.
Weather wise, this season has been kinder than the last few. Friends across the country are muttering about wanting more rain, but after the bog‑like conditions of 2023–24, I’m grateful for where we are. Crops have potential, fields are carrying well and optimism, that scarce resource, is reappearing.
The mild winter, however, has brought rising disease pressure earlier than usual. Timings will be everything. Nitrogen scheduling, fungicides, crop management: all of it sits in the annual balancing act between agronomic need and budget frustration.
Then we come to the Sustainable Farming Incentive. If I’m honest, the SFI has been the other dominating storyline of last year, though not in the confidence-boosting way one might hope. The government’s snap closure of options in spring 2025 knocked many of us off-balance mid rotation and mid budget.
Trying to plan multiyear environmental outcomes while the rulebook keeps getting rewritten feels like farming on shifting sands. One minute a scheme makes sense, the next, you’re redrawing maps, reassigning margins and recalculating income.
Wider government policy hasn’t offered much stability either. Machinery investments, choosing varieties, hiring staff; these aren’t short-term decisions. You need a predictable policy horizon.
Becoming a mum has changed how I look at all this. I think more about the future landscape my children might walk into, and whether they’ll have a farming industry that values both food production and environmental care.
Looking ahead to 2026, I’m cautiously hopeful but fully aware we need stability, fairness and better prices. Volatility helps no one.
Meanwhile, real life keeps happening here. The children have already declared that we “definitely need more cade lambs” this spring. They may be fluffy hooligans, wildly inefficient users of milk powder and prone to escaping at the worst possible moments, but the children love them. And honestly, they teach good lessons: responsibility, timing, gentleness and the joy of seeing something thrive because you turn up every day.
2025 demanded nerve, patience and the stubborn refusal to take shortcuts even when tempted. It hasn’t been easy, but farming rarely is. What it continues to offer, even in the most uncertain seasons and shifting policies, is purpose, community and a sense that what we do still matters.
