KEY POINTS:
Major honey producers may be tempted to push for tighter regulation of the industry following an outbreak of poisoning on the Coromandel. Much is at stake for them, with exported honey products alone worth $56 million last year. They want to limit the damage caused by an episode
in which at least 10 people have fallen foul of the potentially lethal tutin toxin in comb honey that is believed to have been produced by a small-scale Whangamata apiary. Stricter controls would be one way of reassuring people both here and overseas that the honey on the supermarket shelf is a good, safe product.
Backing for this regulatory itch, if needed, is contained in a report prepared for the Ministry of Agriculture and Forestry which warned just such an outbreak would be a consequence of an easing of rules in 2001. This introduced greater self-regulation in terms of the summer-autumn risk posed by bees feeding on honeydew containing poison from native tutu bushes.
The Food Safety Authority predicted that poisoning would occur and media reports would follow, prompting a "loss of confidence in honey, [and] sales and price will crash".
That forecast was probably a little alarmist. So, too, would be any rush to impose stronger regulation because of an isolated incident. Putting matters in perspective, the authority's senior programme manager for animal products, Jim Sim, noted that "generally honey is a very safe product. Tutin poisoning is a rare event". He also observed that the only totally effective health safeguard would be blanket rules that would disadvantage all honey producers for the sins of a few.
This would entail a return to the very inflexibility that producers sought to discard seven years ago, even though by and large the new system has proved both workable and well directed. The highest standards are expected of exporters, who must sign declarations stating when hives were producing honey and register risk-management plans covering tutu. Similar conditions apply to domestic market suppliers. Hobby beekeepers, however, do not have to sign the declarations if they sell locally.
This approach relies on small-time apiarists being fully aware of the toxic honey risk. They must know of the vegetation for kilometres around their hives. The HortResearch report implied this was too great an expectation. But the current regime ensures that the potential for harm from any mistake by a hobby beekeeper, whether through oversight or ignorance, is strictly limited. The contaminated Coromandel honey, which caused vomiting and seizures among those who ate it, is thought to have been sold at just three Whangamata outlets.
A return to the more restrictive regulations would see a system involving permits and hive inspections. That would impose a burden on the Ministry of Agriculture and beekeepers. At the moment, whatever the qualms about the damage to honey's reputation, there seems little call for this. If there were, indeed, a crash in sales and price, that situation might change. But there is little to suggest this is about to happen. Most people seem able to differentiate between the small-scale supply of the toxic Coromandel comb honey and the product they buy.
If there was a rash of poisoning incidents, there might also be a case for reconsideration. This episode should, however, put all beekeepers on their guard. They all stand to lose from errant practice, even if some will pay a much heavier cost. This has ensured the success of the light-handed regulation, the Coromandel incident notwithstanding. It would be foolish to rush into change on the basis of that one case.
