Garth George: Farming industry has changed so much

Many who jumped on the dairying bandwagon are now in difficulties due to a lower payout and high debt.

I haven't seen it in print although I gather the story appeared in the Herald on Sunday recently, but I spotted it on the nzherald.co.nz website and it filled me with horror - a deep and abiding sadness.

It recorded that since December 10, when Fonterra cut its milk payout forecast for the coming season, four farmers had committed suicide.

And, even worse, the story informed us that, according to the Chief Coroner, Judge Neil MacLean, 14 farmers have taken their lives in the past six months.

Now I know that every suicide is a tragedy beyond the comprehension of any but those who have suffered its aftermath, but the thought of a farmer, let alone 14 of them in the space of six months, taking their own lives is something I could not get my head around.

No doubt it's a result of my getting old. I was brought up in a rural city in which town and country were intimately coexistent and I spent a lot of time as a youngster on the farms of my parents' friends.

Later, I spent time as agricultural editor of the Southland Times and was in constant contact with farmers; a pragmatic and phlegmatic breed of men to whom adversity, be it climatic or financial, was simply another challenge to be faced and overcome.

Then it slowly dawned on me that my mind was in a place that's long gone and that the agricultural industry has changed out of all recognition; the victim of the rampant materialism that has changed the face of New Zealand in the past three decades.

Farming is simply a business these days, not a traditional occupation passed down from father to son (or, now and again, a daughter) and most of those in it, particularly dairying, have become victims of just another industry in which money, money, money is everything.

And it seems that when adversity strikes, real or imagined, farmers today are just as susceptible as any other section of society in choosing to end it all and leave their families and others to try to pick up the pieces.

Sue McKay, the administrator of a private Facebook-based support group for farm families, told the Herald on Sunday: "I also know some local hospitals have a number of farmers in them from attempted suicide. If there's three in one ward alone, there will be more in other hospitals."

Early last month, Fonterra dropped its payout forecast for this financial year to an eight-year low of $4.70 a kilogram of milk solids, just over half the $8.40 paid out last season.

And that, according to Federated Farmers, is estimated to create an income drop for its producers of $6.6 billion - yes, billion.

To put that in perspective, a friend of mine who owns what he calls an "average-sized" dairy farm in Golden Bay told me this week that the drop in payout would cut his earnings this year by between $300,000 and $400,000.

But in the meantime, compliance and other unavoidable costs were still rising, making matters worse.

One would have thought that sensible farmers would in the good years have reduced their debt and put money aside against a cloudy day. Not so, my friend tells me. Rather, far too many have used their huge profits to buy more land, or more stock or more machinery and equipment or all of those.

Now, save a miraculous sudden increase in international prices for milk products, they are faced with being unable to survive financially.

My heart weeps for the wives and families who have suddenly and inexplicably been deprived of husband, father and provider and left with often unsolvable difficulties.