The Potato Throwers

III. The Noose of the Agricultural Green Transition

Yet farmers will bear the steep costs of this transition. They must invest in new machinery, switch to more expensive organic inputs, and set aside portions of their land to qualify for ecological subsidies.

Although the EU’s Common Agricultural Policy channels subsidies into the transition, practical issues such as ongoing disputes and lengthy implementation periods persist. The crux of the matter is that EU subsidies largely cover ongoing operational support rather than the initial capital required to kickstart the process. The World Business Council for Sustainable Development (WBCSD) estimates upfront costs at between €2,000 and €5,000 per hectare, with a payback period stretching to nine years. Even with subsidy support, farmers still face a funding shortfall. Furthermore, regarding the goal of halving chemical pesticide use, modelling studies on transitioning grain and oilseed production to greener methods indicate a tangible risk of reduced yields. Farmers find themselves trapped between environmental mandates and the imperative to make a living.

More critically, the allocation of subsidies suffers from structural flaws. Data reveals that 80% of agricultural subsidies flow to just 20% of farming businesses. This policy tilt, which favours large, technologically advanced agribusinesses, leaves small and medium-sized farms—the very ones that stand to benefit most—with empty hands. Compounding this, market uncertainty driven by volatile energy prices and trade competition further erodes farmers’ confidence in pursuing a green transition, given that it represents a long-term, high-risk investment.

IV. The Green Transition Cannot Be Shouldered by Farmers Alone

The heart of the EU farmers’ protests lies not in outright resistance to agricultural transformation, but in a pointed question: who should bear the cost of this transition? When market liberalisation and high environmental standards advance in tandem, the costs too often fall first on the producers.

Yet this is not a dilemma exclusive to the European Union. Following the first inclusion of “green agriculture” in the 2016 Central Document No. 1, the 2026 edition introduced the term “low-carbon agriculture” for the first time. Chinese agriculture, too, has embarked on its own path of transformation.

A report released this February, titled *The Green Transition in Agriculture Against the Backdrop of Chinese-style Modernisation*, authored by state-affiliated experts and scholars in collaboration with multiple social organisations, observes that China has pursued rapid agricultural modernisation and a green transition simultaneously over a short period. This has created a “parallel-track” effect, resulting in the coexistence of conventional chemical-intensive farming and green agriculture, alongside a gap between the formulation and implementation of green agricultural policies. The pace and direction of the green transition vary across different agricultural operators, regions, and farming models, displaying marked diversity. Meanwhile, tensions persist between standardised large-scale farming and diverse smallholder operations during this shift. Compounding these challenges, China also faces a large population, upgrading consumption patterns, and scarce per capita resources.

When policy aspirations reach the furrows of the field, can “green” truly become an affordable, comprehensible, trustworthy, and sustainable choice for farmers? Or will it once again become a passively accepted mandate?

In practice, green agricultural inputs carry a steep price premium over conventional alternatives. For instance, the cost of fully biodegradable mulch films often exceeds twice that of standard plastic mulch, while the procurement and transport costs of organic fertilisers continue to rise year on year. For fragmented smallholder operations, this translates into a sharp escalation in individual input costs.

Yet against the broader backdrop of low grain prices and limited arable land, farmers have grown accustomed to a singular growth model reliant on “high input, high output”. On one side, chemical fertilisers and pesticides deliver immediate results, visible within the very same season; on the other, the green transition demands a protracted wait, with returns only materialising after three to five years. Faced with the imperative of food security and livelihood, farmers have little room for hesitation.

Simultaneously, the green transition in agriculture faces a significant barrier in technology extension. Breaking the reliance on agrochemicals, improving soil health to boost yield and quality, and mastering complementary cropping techniques all require systematic, experience-based guidance. Farmers’ capacity to adapt varies widely. In particular, the current backbone of grain cultivation—shaped over decades by agro-input suppliers and policy incentives—has, in a sense, become “deskilled” through lifelong dependence on chemical fertilisers and pesticides. Retraining them to adopt ecological and green farming practices proves exceedingly difficult.

Along China’s path toward a green agricultural transition, farmers face not only frontline production challenges but also “invisible” hidden costs. When the blanket ban on straw burning eased apparent environmental pressures, the labour and machinery costs of straw management were quietly shifted onto individual households, without a corresponding compensation mechanism. In response to this thorny issue, several regions have begun experimenting with alternative approaches, seeking to transform straw handling into a collaborative framework guided by government and driven by market participation.

Even so, a deeper issue remains unresolved: the green transition is far more than a matter of technology and subsidies; it is fundamentally about the structure of returns.

Within the current agricultural commodity market, a stable mechanism for green product premiums has yet to fully take root. The signal that consumers are willing to pay more for “green” produce is often diluted layer by layer through the supply chain, rarely reaching producers with precision. Farmers absorb the upfront investment and risk directly, yet are not guaranteed stable market returns. Consequently, green agriculture in practice remains driven more by policy than by market forces.

Moreover, the generational composition of producers is shifting. New forms of agricultural operators, epitomised by the “new-generation farmers”, are more inclined to recognise the long-term value of ecological agriculture, more willing to embrace and proactively learn new technologies, and better positioned to access information on policy subsidies. Yet they too confront practical hurdles: high land lease costs, financing difficulties, and unstable operational scales. By contrast, older generations bring vast experience but tend toward caution and conservatism.

Therefore, the crux of a green agricultural transition may lie not in how advanced the underlying philosophy is, but in whether a “risk-sharing and benefit-sharing” mechanism can be established, involving government, producers, enterprises, and consumers alike. If costs materialise solely at the production end while returns remain trapped in the supply chain or buried in policy documents, the transition will inevitably be fraught with rupture.

The “potato projectiles” hurled through the streets of Brussels serve as a reminder: any structural transformation must ultimately answer the same question:

How, precisely, should the cost of an ideal be fairly distributed within our institutions?