Now, it’s utterly unlike me to get political—absolutely unheard of, right? But I’ve got to get this off my chest because it’s been brewing for far too long. Let me preface this by saying that no, I am not a farmer, but my family has always been farmers. My roots go back to Old Romney, specifically Jasmine Farm, which was home to my grandfather and his father before him. It wasn’t some sprawling estate or a Downton Abbey situation; it was the kind of farm the Marsh was famous for—a modest plot with a mix of livestock and arable land. A proper family operation.
And while I’m not directly in the thick of it with muddy boots and calloused hands, I’m not daft. I know farm work is gruelling. You take the weather in your stride, and that’s no easy feat in Britain, where we’re currently enjoying a delightful cocktail of wind, rain, and the looming threat of snow. And let’s not forget the summer—ah yes, a time of working 14-hour days in scorching heat, all for what? Basic wages. It’s one of those age-old myths, isn’t it? That farmers are rolling in it. Oh yes, because who doesn’t dream of long hours, high risks, and praying your tractor doesn’t pack up on you mid-harvest? Sure, the big landowners might have it cushy, but your average farmer is just grateful to break even after dodging droughts, floods, animal diseases, and, of course, the occasional light-hearted theft of fuel or machinery. Lovely stuff.
But now—oh now!—our farmland is under siege from a different kind of pest. Forget locusts or aphids; I’m talking about the lesser spotted rear charmer. Or, as he’s better known, Sir Keir Starmer. Yes, Sir Keir and his delightful entourage: Rachel “Tax Everything That Moves” Reeves and, not to be outdone, Ed “Green Me Up” Miliband. Together, they’re cooking up policies that would make even the most battle-hardened farmers wish for a return of foot-and-mouth disease over this lot.
Let’s rewind for a moment to Sir Keir’s oh-so-sincere promise to make British food production a key objective. A touching sentiment, really. Except, naturally, actions speak louder than words, and what have they done instead? Well, Reeves decided it would be a laugh to hike up the minimum wage and National Insurance, making it nearly impossible for farmers to afford their workforce. Because, you know, nothing screams “supporting British agriculture” like forcing farmers to do the work of three people themselves. I mean, what’s a 14-hour day when you can make it a 16-hour one? Who needs health and safety, anyway?
And the cherry on top? Reeves and her mates have decided that when you finally shuffle off this mortal coil, they’ll help themselves to 20% of the value of your farm. Isn’t that generous of them? Oh, but don’t worry—they’ve got a plan for that too. Enter Ed Miliband, who’ll gladly take the farmland off your hands to make way for solar farms and wind turbines. Fabulous. Because if there’s one thing we’ve learned over the years, it’s that people can totally eat electricity. Why bother with crops and livestock when we can snack on solar panels?
And the absurdity doesn’t stop there. Let’s all take a moment to brace ourselves for what’s coming next: a cow tax. Yes, you heard me right. A tax on the methane from cows’ backsides. I suppose the idea is that we’ll all embrace veganism and live on lentils like Ed himself. But wait—there’s more! Rumour has it they’re planning to slap taxes on fish catches too. Because why not make life even harder for the folks who bring us fish and chips?
It’s almost impressive how they’re managing to alienate the very people who put food on our tables. You’d think, at some point, someone would stand up in their policy meetings and say, “Hang on, maybe attacking farmers isn’t a great idea.” But no, full steam ahead, chaps. After all, what’s a little food insecurity between friends?
Honestly, this is shaping up to be the worst government I’ve seen in my living memory. And let’s not forget, I’ve lived through some corkers. It’s almost as if they’re trying to outdo themselves. What’s next? A tax on tractors? A levy on hay bales? Perhaps they’ll introduce a quota on how many sheep you’re allowed to own. Who knows? The possibilities are endless.
So here we are, hurtling towards what can only be described as a winter of discontent. Farmers are stretched to their limits, food production is in the gutter, and the people supposedly in charge seem more interested in virtue-signalling about green energy than actually feeding the nation. But hey, at least we’ll have plenty of wind turbines to admire while we’re all queuing at food banks, right?
In conclusion, to the powers that be: a heartfelt round of applause for your tireless efforts to dismantle British farming. Really, well done. You’ve managed to take an already challenging industry and make it nearly impossible. But don’t let me stop you. By all means, keep ploughing on—pun absolutely intended. Just don’t come crying when the shelves are empty, and we’re all living off imported soybeans. Bravo.