Is climate change coming for chocolate?
Climate change is coming for everything, of course, but as we consider mitigation and adaptation strategies, we must put a good bit of thought, and then money, towards preserving that which will comfort us - nay, make life bearable - as the world burns. Chocolate, along with salmon roe, cod liver, and fish head curry, are on the list. My list, at least.
And so I present a first-hand report from the islands of Sulawesi and Bali, the former home to a unique sago ball soup, among many other wonderful things, as well as a considerable density of cacao farms; the latter to extraordinary Hindu Dharma temples, conspicuous pork consumption (babi babi babi, baby!), and lovely
wedding venues.
My visit would have been impossible without Pak Peni, the friendliest patriarch of Indonesian cacao you'll ever meet. He works for the Indonesian branch of Rikolto, a Belgian NGO that, in its own words, "...operates in 7 provinces and focuses on 5 main commodities (rice, coffee, cocoa, cinnamon, seaweed) and 2 thematic initiatives (Food Smart City and Payment for Ecosystem Services)... We support smallholder farmers to take up their role in rural poverty alleviation and
to contribute to feeding a growing world population in a sustainable
way."
We met in Denpasar, Bali, the thriving hub of beach tourism that visitors should be sure to break free of, at least for a day, although there is, in fact, impressive food amidst the tourist-oriented, overpriced, soul-sucking nonsense... just look for "warung..." and you'll probably do very well. A non-negligible amount of cacao is grown on Bali, but most Indonesian production is on Sulawesi, the world's most oddly-shaped island. Our itinerary would focus on said funky landmass, as such, but we began with a three-hour drive west from Denpasar to Jembrana, just across the water from Java. There we met the inimitable Agung Widi, founder of the Kalimajari Foundation. What a spirit! She's been working for years to strengthen cooperative farming and agricultural extension with, among other organizations, Koperasi Kerta Semaya Samaniya, or KSS.
Setting aside the specter of climate change for a moment, producing high quality cacao is difficult even when the planet isn't rebelling against you. Trees are fickle; pollination is tricky; and perhaps most importantly, as least from the perspective of craft chocolate makers, fermentation is crucial and difficult to control. This is one of the processes that Agung has worked hardest to standardize at KSS and other cooperatives.
Feast or Famine, for trees and pollinators alike
First, the trees. Of the thousands of varieties of cacao - don't believe outdated resources that suggest theobroma cacao's enormous genetic diversity can be neatly reduced to criollo, forastero, and trinitario - some are more drought-resistant than others. Inundation is its own problem, too, as are higher average temperatures. What to do? Develop, and then disseminate, new and heartier clones. A well-run farm replaces its oldest trees every year - most cacaos decline in productivity after 25-35 years - so there is an annual opportunity to get the best new clones in the ground.
Next, the pollinators. Bees? Nope. Tiny flies. Cacao pollination is so complicated that a Belgian university - of course it would be Belgian! - has put together an entire website on the subject, fittingly at cacaopollination.com. I've put a lot of links in this post, but you really ought to spend some time with this one, which reveals that only 10-20% of cacao flowers are successfully pollinated. It notes as well that, "Evidence suggests improving midge habitat can increase fruit yield. So, in some cacao-growing areas, current farming practices include developing and maintaining suitable ground habitat within and near cacao orchards in an effort to increase the number of midges capable of pollen transmission."
What the article doesn't note is the dire effect of climate change on said midge habitat. As Peni and company explained, midges lay their eggs in the decomposing pod husks, leaves, and other forest detritus that collect underneath cacao trees. Moisture is crucial: this decomposing mass must be damp, but not sopping wet, in order for the eggs to hatch. Increasingly erratic rainfall makes these conditions increasingly rare: often too dry, occasionally too wet, rarely just right. As midge populations further decline, yields will, too, unless a new, more committed pollinator takes up the mantle, whether insect, human, or bionic.
We didn't interact directly with farmers on Bali. We certainly would on Sulawesi, where we stopped in on a co-op members meeting and training session.
Engaging with, and adapting to, the new reality
The internet is a powerful tool that, despite its increasing penetration into low-income and/or rural populations in the developing world, is totally inadequate to the challenge of helping smallholders grapple with climate change. A community, and coordinated outreach to that community, is required. Therein lies the importance of cooperation, which Ayu, Pak Yanto, and company fully recognize and practice on their farms outside of Masamba, North Luwu, Sulawesi. I promise that the photo below the following paragraph wasn't staged: I just happened to visit on a co-op training day. The subject at hand wasn't advanced hybridization, pollination techniques, or disease control, but fertilizer: what type, how much, applied when and how? Even experienced farmers could increase yields, or reduce costs, via a more strategic approach.
For 8 Degrees, the priority is clear: whenever possible, buy beans directly from coops like Ayu's that are actively engaging with their members to address climate change. As for making sure we're able to give Ayu and her members the best possible price, that's where our evangelism comes in: we must convince our customers to pay a premium for chocolate made from beans grown by climate-aware coops. Flavor comes first, but sustainability, both ecological and financial, comes second.
Yale-NUS College, True Love, and Yellow rice
I didn't fly all the way to Indonesia for cacao alone. I first stopped off in Singapore, not because Changi is a lovely airport and the stepping stone to SE Asia, which it is, but because a close friend and graduate of the inimitable Yale-NUS, for a few white-hot years surely the world's finest liberal arts college, was to be married in a hardcore Catholic ceremony, i.e. 100% Latin with a big translation booklet for the philistines in the audience - at the lovely Saint Joseph's Church on Victoria Street. The following weekend I was due in Bali for the wedding of two more Yale-NUS friends, hence the thrilling opportunity to plop a tour of Indonesian cacao cooperatives among the intervening days. The highlight of this second nuptials, besides the company, the conviviality, and the commitment to loving partnership? Nasi kuning tumpeng!! I'd been waiting for this moment for over a decade. That a ceremonial conical tower of yellow rice surrounded by savory scrumptiousness exists in Indonesian banquet cuisine had been made known to me in the first few weeks after I moved to Singapore. I'd never seen one in the grain. I was overjoyed to find that my fearless, badass, brilliant friends subbed it for their wedding cake. Legendary.
