RICE AS THE BAROMETER OF FOOD SECURITY

 RICE AS THE BAROMETER OF FOOD SECURITY

It is already obvious that our rice farmers are forced to sell their palay harvests at prices lower than their production costs. Imagine this: farmers spend around ₱20–₱22 per kilo to produce palay, but are forced to sell at ₱10–₱14 per kilo. That is a straight loss of about ₱10 per kilo. Who would keep farming under such conditions?

Now, we hear proposals about selling rice at ₱20 per kilo to more consumers. Good news for the urban poor perhaps—but what about the rural poor, the farmers themselves? If they keep selling at a loss, eventually they will stop planting. What happens to food security then?

This leads us to a bigger question: what should really be the definition of food security?

Too often, food security in the Philippines is reduced to the size of the rice inventory. But what good is rice without viands to eat it with? Shouldn’t food security also mean a reliable supply of poultry, meats, fruits, vegetables, fish, and even root crops? In truth, food security should be defined holistically—not only in terms of quantity (consumption) but also in terms of quality (nutrition).

We should also include in that definition access to potable water, cooking fuel, and electricity, because what use is rice if you can’t cook it?

Palay Prices and the Role of Government

The palay price crisis did not come from nowhere. The Rice Tariffication Law (RTL) stripped the National Food Authority (NFA) of its buffer stocking and price stabilization role. The NFA’s 2026 budget is pegged at ₱11.18 billion, but once you deduct personnel and operating expenses (~₱6 billion), only about ₱5 billion remains for palay procurement. That’s enough to buy just 320,000 tons of palay—or a measly 1.6% of national output.

Now compare that with our neighbors:

• India’s Food Corporation procures 30–40% of rice output every year.
  
  

• Thailand’s rice pledging scheme once covered 20–25% of production.
  
  

If they can do it, why can’t we?

Some experts suggest that the Philippines should aim to procure at least 20% of palay output, roughly 4 million tons. That would require ₱100 billion for procurement plus another ₱100 billion for warehouse infrastructure. A steep price, yes—but is it any steeper than the social cost of losing our rice farmers to bankruptcy and migration?

Rice as the Barometer

Dr. Ted Mendoza is right: rice is the barometer of our food security. If our rice farmers are suffering, then the entire food system is in crisis. When rice prices collapse at the farmgate, it signals a larger problem of market stabilization and government intervention.

But let us not stop there. The 1996 World Food Summit gave us a globally accepted definition of food security that still applies today. It has four dimensions:

1. Availability – Is there enough food produced, stored, or imported to meet demand?
   
   

2. Access – Can people afford and physically reach the food they need?
   
   

3. Utilization – Is the food being consumed in a way that supports health? This includes nutrition, water, and cooking methods.
   
   

4. Stability – Are these conditions reliable over time, or are they vulnerable to shocks like typhoons, wars, or inflation?
   
   

Notice how rice only addresses the first dimension—availability. But access, utilization, and stability are just as critical.

A Call for Holistic Food Security

The truth is, food security should mean food sovereignty. We should not only ensure that rice is cheap and abundant; we should also ensure that farmers, fisherfolk, and food producers live in dignity. After all, how can we expect food producers to continue feeding the nation if they themselves cannot eat properly?

Food sovereignty means that communities should have control over how their food is produced, distributed, and consumed. It means strengthening farmer cooperatives, investing in local food systems, and promoting diversified farming—not just rice monoculture. It also means linking food security to environmental sustainability, because there is no food security in the long run without healthy soils, clean water, and stable ecosystems.

So yes, rice is the barometer of food security—but let us not mistake the barometer for the whole climate. If rice tells us that farmers are in crisis, then the entire food system is under stress.

The solution? Restore the government’s Market Stabilization Role. Ensure fair farmgate prices. Build strategic warehouses. Invest not just in rice, but in poultry, vegetables, and fisheries. And above all, treat farmers not as charity cases, but as partners in securing the nation’s future.

Because food security is not just about keeping rice cheap for consumers. It is about ensuring that both producers and consumers can live with dignity, health, and resilience. (With credits to Dr. Ted Mendoza).

Ramon Ike V. Seneres, www.facebook.com/ike.seneres

iseneres@yahoo.com, senseneres.blogspot.com 

12-26-2025

WILDLIFE PROTECTION VERSUS AQUACULTURE PROMOTION

 WILDLIFE PROTECTION VERSUS AQUACULTURE PROMOTION

Some call it a tension; I call it a lack of coordination. Or perhaps it is coordination—or the lack thereof—that is at the heart of the tension.

On one hand, we have the Biodiversity Management Bureau (BMB) under the DENR, tasked with protecting our wildlife and ecosystems. On the other hand, we have the Bureau of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources (BFAR) under the Department of Agriculture, tasked with promoting food production and food security. These are both noble mandates. The problem is, when the two agencies pursue their goals without aligning with each other, we end up with conflict instead of complementarity.

Take one case in point: the BMB wants to protect our native freshwater species in rivers and lakes, while BFAR promotes tilapia culture. Tilapia may be cheap, resilient, and fast-growing, but it is an invasive species that preys on or outcompetes native fish. This leaves us with a paradox: in trying to ensure food on the table today, are we sacrificing biodiversity—and future food security—for tomorrow?

Another case: BMB wants to preserve the biodiversity in swamplands and wetlands, which are natural habitats for migratory birds, amphibians, and native fishes. BFAR, however, has historically promoted the conversion of swamplands into fishponds. That creates jobs, yes, but at the cost of losing entire ecosystems. Do we really have to choose one over the other?

The key to biodiversity management is balance. But how do we keep that balance?

I believe the solution is not just in the hands of BMB and BFAR. We need LGUs, the DOST, state universities, NGOs, and people’s organizations all sitting at the same table. In fact, I would go further: let us bring these issues to the Regional Development Councils (RDCs), where cross-sectoral coordination is possible. Food security and environmental sustainability should not be treated as separate silos—they are two sides of the same coin.

Globally, aquaculture is no longer a small side industry. It now provides more than 50% of aquatic food consumed worldwide, and demand is projected to double by 2050. This makes aquaculture indispensable. At the same time, conservationists warn that if aquaculture is done recklessly, it can cause ecological collapse—disease outbreaks, invasive species proliferation, and water pollution from fish feeds.

In Southeast Asia, several countries are now experimenting with sustainable aquaculture models. For instance, integrated mangrove-aquaculture systems allow shrimp and fish to be farmed while still maintaining biodiversity corridors. In Vietnam, farmers are testing closed-loop aquaculture that recycles nutrients and reduces waste. Why can’t we do the same here?

One promising approach is to prioritize native species for aquaculture, such as milkfish, catfish, and indigenous carps, instead of relying too heavily on imported or invasive species. Another is to invest in circular design systems: fish cages that minimize waste, wetlands that double as natural filters, and community-led monitoring of disease risks.

Here are some ideas that might help bridge the divide:

1. Policy Integration – Let aquaculture development be embedded within LGU biodiversity action plans and zoning ordinances. Don’t let one agency push for fishponds where another agency has declared critical habitats.
   
   

2. Community Co-management – Empower fisherfolk and indigenous peoples to co-manage aquaculture areas side by side with protected zones. After all, they are the most affected by both biodiversity loss and food shortages.
   
   

3. Eco-certification and Traceability – Promote aquaculture products that are certified as “biodiversity-friendly” or “sustainably farmed.” Consumers, especially in cities, are increasingly willing to pay for products that are good for both the people and the planet.
   
   

4. Restorative Infrastructure – Let’s think beyond fishponds and cages. Why not create aquaculture learning sites that also serve as biodiversity hubs, eco-tourism areas, or even cultural heritage parks?
   
   

At the end of the day, food security is important, but so is environmental sustainability. If we continue to push one at the expense of the other, we all lose. The better path is not “either-or” but “both-and.” Both food on the table and biodiversity in our rivers, lakes, and wetlands. Both livelihood for fisherfolk and conservation for future generations.

The challenge, therefore, is not to pick sides but to design governance systems where BMB and BFAR work hand in hand, instead of at cross purposes. We cannot afford turf wars in a time of climate crisis, dwindling biodiversity, and rising food demand. What we need is participatory governance, with RDCs as the platform, and circular thinking as the guiding principle.

Because in the long run, the survival of both our people and our planet depends not on competition, but on coordination.

Ramon Ike V. Seneres, www.facebook.com/ike.seneres

iseneres@yahoo.com, senseneres.blogspot.com 

12-25-2025

BREEDING AND REWILDING LOBED RIVER MULLET

 BREEDING AND REWILDING LOBED RIVER MULLET

The good news is that our government has kickstarted a lobed river mullet (ludong) conservation project through Oplan Sagip Ludong, initiated by BFAR Region 2. The bad news is that this project is likely not getting enough funding, support, or attention. For now, it remains mainly a regional initiative, when it should be a national priority.

Ludong, scientifically known as Cestraeus goldiei, is no ordinary fish. It is rare, seasonal, and herbivorous, feeding exclusively on river algae. It is also catadromous—meaning it migrates downstream to the sea to spawn before returning upstream. That makes it doubly vulnerable to overfishing, dam construction, and river pollution. No wonder it is often called the “President’s Fish” because of its high market value and exclusivity. At one point, it was selling at ₱4,000 to ₱5,000 per kilo in local markets. But behind the prestige lies a sobering reality: ludong is classified as “near endangered” or “near threatened.”

If we don’t act now, it could slip down the ladder of conservation categories: from “vulnerable” to “endangered,” to “critically endangered,” and eventually to “extinct in the wild.” And once it’s gone, there’s no turning back.

Here are my questions: what is the actual surviving population of ludong today? What are the numerical targets for the next five years? Unless BFAR and DENR publish these numbers, the public will remain in the dark, and accountability will be weak. Conservation is not just about slogans; it’s about measurable outcomes.

Another concern is the enforcement of the ban on catching and selling ludong. Reports suggest that despite the prohibition, ludong still finds its way to black markets and private dining tables. If this is true, then implementation is failing. Moreover, we must extend the ban to cover ludong roe (fish eggs), because harvesting eggs directly threatens the next generation of the species.

Beyond enforcement, we need science. The Department of Science and Technology (DOST) should accelerate genetic barcoding studies to clarify whether ludong populations in Luzon are truly unique or related to lobed river mullets found in Sulawesi, Vanuatu, or Fiji. If the Luzon ludong is genetically distinct, then it deserves the full weight of “endemic species” protection. If not, then at the very least, we can learn from regional conservation models. Either way, scientific clarity is essential.

What’s missing, in my view, is a comprehensive rewilding program. Breeding ludong in captivity is only half the battle. To rebuild healthy river populations, we need rewilding efforts aligned with watershed rehabilitation and anti-pollution campaigns. Otherwise, even if hatcheries succeed, there will be no suitable habitats for restocking. BFAR’s research centers in Claveria and Aparri are commendable first steps, but they must be scaled up, not left struggling with limited funding.

Let us also broaden the collaboration. Why is this effort mainly BFAR’s alone? Where is the DENR, which oversees freshwater ecosystems? Where is DOST, which could provide scientific innovation? Where is the DA, which could link conservation with fisherfolk livelihoods? Even LGUs along the Cagayan River basin should be fully mobilized. Without multi-agency coordination, the program risks becoming another well-meaning but underfunded project.

Globally, the lobed river mullet (Cestraeus plicatilis) has been recorded in places like Sulawesi, Okinawa, and New Caledonia. However, these are scattered populations, possibly even distinct species. In the Philippines, ludong’s story is not just ecological but cultural—woven into the identity of Cagayan Valley communities. Protecting it is both a scientific obligation and a matter of heritage.

So, what do we do next?

1. Nationalize Oplan Sagip Ludong. Turn it into a flagship biodiversity program, not just a regional experiment.
   
   

2. Set clear population targets. Publish baseline numbers and five-year goals to measure progress.
   
   

3. Strengthen enforcement. Include a ban on the sale of ludong roe and crack down on black markets.
   
   

4. Invest in science. Push for genetic studies, captive breeding, and rewilding programs.
   
   

5. Align with river rehabilitation. A healthy ludong population depends on clean, flowing rivers.
   
   

6. Promote fisherfolk participation. Give local communities a stake in protection—through ecotourism, conservation-linked livelihoods, or hatchery partnerships.
   
   

The ludong is a symbol of what we stand to lose if we neglect our rivers. It is also a symbol of what we could achieve if we align science, policy, and community action. The choice is ours: let ludong become a legend of the past—or let it swim again in abundance, a living testament to Filipino stewardship.

The question remains: will we wait for this species to vanish before acting decisively, or will we breed and rewild it now while we still have the chance?

Ramon Ike V. Seneres, www.facebook.com/ike.seneres

iseneres@yahoo.com, senseneres.blogspot.com 

12-24-2025

KICK STARTING SUPER WOOD RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT IN THE PHILIPPINES

 KICK STARTING SUPER WOOD RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT IN THE PHILIPPINES

As a tropical country, the Philippines is blessed with a wide variety of hardwood species—narra, molave, kamagong, yakal, tanguile, and more. These are highly prized not only for their strength but also for their beauty. Yet imagine this: what if we could produce a type of wood even harder than hardwood? A “super wood” that is so strong it could rival steel—or even titanium—in terms of strength-to-weight ratio?

That’s no longer just science fiction. Canadian and American researchers have developed exactly that: engineered wood that’s stronger than steel, fire-resistant, pest-proof, and moisture-resistant. Unlike steel or concrete, this “super wood” is renewable, carbon-negative, and requires far less energy to produce. In tests, it has even outperformed titanium in certain applications.

Can you imagine what this could mean for the Philippine economy if we entered the field early? What kind of industries could emerge? From construction beams and cladding to aircraft interiors and car frames, the possibilities are enormous. And if we combined this with our world-class furniture design industry, our exports could skyrocket.

Now here’s the more intriguing question: what if this technology could also harden softwoods? Species like gmelina and falcata, which mature much faster than traditional hardwoods, could be densified to produce material as tough as molave. Suddenly, our fast-growing species, often undervalued, could become strategic assets. This would reduce logging pressure on slow-growing native hardwoods while creating new livelihood opportunities for agroforestry cooperatives.

And let us not forget bamboo. Bamboo already has tensile strength comparable to steel. What more could it become if treated with densification technology? We could be looking at super bamboo—lighter, stronger, and longer-lasting—perfect for resilient housing in typhoon-prone areas like ours.

So, what should we do?

First, let’s put this on the agenda of our economic diplomacy. Two Western countries—Canada and the U.S.—are already advancing super wood technology. Both are friendly to us. Why not pursue technology transfer agreements under the Department of Foreign Affairs (DFA) and Department of Trade and Industry (DTI)? Canada, for example, is piloting production in British Columbia. We should be talking to them now.

Second, let’s not rely solely on imports. The Department of Science and Technology (DOST), through the Forest Products Research and Development Institute (FPRDI) and the University of the Philippines Los Baños (UPLB), should spearhead our own research. This will require funding, yes, but the potential payback—in reduced steel imports, new export industries, and disaster-resilient housing—is huge.

Third, this research must be aligned with our reforestation programs. Planting fast-growing species like falcata and bamboo could serve both ecological and industrial goals. Instead of merely restoring forests, we could be building future resource banks for high-value super wood.

Finally, furniture export development should be integrated. The Philippines is already known for high-quality craftsmanship. Imagine furniture that not only looks beautiful but is lighter, stronger, and longer-lasting than anything on the market. Why should IKEA or Japan dominate this space when we could?

Of course, this requires strong inter-agency collaboration. The Department of Agriculture (DA) must coordinate with the Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR) for sustainable forestry practices. DOST and UPLB must lead the science. DFA and DTI must lead the diplomacy. Without coordination, this opportunity could easily slip away.

The truth is, we’ve long been behind when it comes to green industrial materials. We import most of our steel, we over-rely on cement, and we often neglect our own natural resources. Super wood could be the game-changer that allows us to build stronger, greener, and cheaper.

So, here’s my question: will we wait until other countries dominate the technology and simply become buyers again? Or will we finally seize the chance to lead, at least in Asia, in super wood research and development?

If Canada and the U.S. can do it, so can we. But only if we start now.

Ramon Ike V. Seneres, www.facebook.com/ike.seneres

iseneres@yahoo.com, senseneres.blogspot.com 

12-23-2025