Inspired by Smallholders
(March 23): My first speaking gig of the year kicked off in the best way possible — an invitation from the Sarawak Land Consolidation and Rehabilitation Authority (SALCRA) to share with their smallholders and management team about “The Malaysian Oil Palm Sector: Challenges and Way Forward”. The event was held during their 7th AJPLS Conference at the Bajo Training Centre in Lundu, where over 400 participants from all over Sarawak gathered.

It was such a refreshing change to deliver nearly the entire talk in Bahasa Malaysia — finally, a break from my usual English presentations! But what really made the experience unforgettable was the incredible energy of the ‘uncles and aunties’ aka Baby Boomer smallholders in the audience. Their enthusiasm to listen, learn and their unwavering belief in the potential of oil palm was absolutely contagious! It truly reignited my passion for what we do.
My mantra is simple: the golden rule for planters, whether young or not-so-young, should always be: Never stop learning, because life will never stop teaching. Over shared meals and heartfelt chats in the corridors, I was fortunate enough to hear their stories — stories of resilience, hard-earned wisdom and dreams of a brighter future. These smallholders didn’t just inspire me; they reignited a deep passion within me for the work we do. It’s their unwavering spirit that reminds me why this journey matters so much.
Balancing “Adat” and Transformation of Smallholders
Smallholders are the backbone of Malaysia’s oil palm industry. With over 450,000 smallholders scattered across the country — who, by the way, are also a force to be reckoned with at the ballot box — each managing 100 acres or less, these farmers are essential to the sector. In Malaysia, smallholders come in two flavours: independent smallholders, who tend to their family-owned lands, and organised smallholders, whose lands are managed by government agencies like FELDA, FELCRA, SALCRA and SLDB. Either way, they’re all key players in this well-oiled (pun intended) industry.
However, despite their essential role, many smallholders — especially those in Sabah and Sarawak — still face significant challenges. Limited access to larger markets and millers means they often depend on dealers at collection centres and those who travel long distances to collect their produce. Sadly, this dependence often puts them at the mercy of some dealers. Even more concerning, these smallholders lack the crucial support of seeds, fertilisers and additional manpower, all of which are essential for improving yields and sustaining their livelihoods.
The continued pressing issue for smallholders, especially within indigenous communities, is land ownership legitimacy. Land tenure issues, particularly among groups with ancestral lands, create a constant struggle. These communities are not only battling economic hardship but also fighting for their heritage and future.
One quote that resonated deeply with me comes from a Sarawakian, Pita Amen Uyan Uma, who, in his prayer for the farming year, shouts out, “In our work throughout the year as we farm, let us be guided by you, kind spirit of the hawk, so that the field we sow, spread, rises and yields.” For the people of Sarawak, life follows a different rhythm, in tune with the rise and fall of seasons and the very essence of existence. This rhythm is governed by Adat — the guiding principle for life. It is believed to have been bestowed by a higher power to help humankind live peacefully on earth.
Adat governs more than just daily life — it defines land boundaries, ownership and use, placing it at the heart of agrarian society. It determines the rewards, redress and restitution needed to maintain social order. However, Adat, now must also find balance in a rapidly changing world. Globalisation and the mass media are flattening the world, making it harder for traditional practices like Adat to thrive.
But to raise society, we must first raise the land. Transforming society without losing this essential cultural element is a delicate process — one that requires respect and perseverance. Change unfolds slowly, often one step at a time.
Yet, amidst these challenges, there will always be some opportunists who seek to exploit the plight of smallholders for personal gain, whether through attention, wealth or influence — rightfully or otherwise. These individuals or groups may exploit the situation, complicating any proactive endeavours involving the smallholders’ journey toward progress.
Another crucial point is the importance of training smallholders so they can learn to fish, rather than relying on the handouts year after year. How else are we going to break the cycle of dependency and subsidies? I’ll always remember a book I read called Toxic Charity. The lesson from it is simple, but powerful:
Give once: you get appreciation.
Give twice: you spark anticipation.
Give three times: you breed expectation.
Give four times: you create entitlement.
Give five times: you build dependency.
But when the giving stops, suddenly, you’re the ENEMY. It’s a harsh truth that stretches across politics, family, business, sports, and yes, even smallholders. For many, human nature boils down to “What have you done for me lately?” In our attempts to help, or to hold power and control, we often end up causing more harm than good. It’s time to trade handouts for empowerment.
I once had an intriguing chat with someone in political authority, lobbying for something crucial to the industry. He looked me dead in the eye and said, “Joe, I can give you what you want.” Naturally, I asked, “When?” His response? “When I’m the Prime Minister.” Then, with a smirk, he added, “Unfortunately, I won’t last long enough as PM.” At least he was honest — though I’m still torn between laughing or starting my search for a new lobbyist!
Well-intentioned government assistance can sometimes go off course, leading to potential resource leakages and misuse. This issue is made even more challenging by a lack of access to accurate information and skillsets, which leaves smallholders vulnerable to exploitation by opportunists with a short-term focus.
But despite these hurdles, the resilience of smallholders is truly inspiring. Their unwavering dedication to their Adat, land, families and future is something that deserves both recognition and support. Their journey, though challenging, is filled with hope and determination. It’s crucial that relevant stakeholders, as a collective, pay urgent attention to their struggles and work together to create a comprehensive, transformative blueprint — one with clear rules and a shared vision for a thriving long-term future.
My Favourite Presentation Slides
Over the years, I’ve had the privilege of speaking at many conferences, offering my insights on everything from industry trends to thorny challenges — as well as learning from others.
During my presentation to the SALCRA smallholders, I pulled out few of my favourite slides that I just can’t resist sharing. These slides are like my trusty Swiss Army knife — compact, versatile and bound to spark a few chuckles, debate and even prompt a bit of self-reflection.
Now, I’ve never quite found the time to jot down my thoughts on these slides — mainly because, let’s face it, conference time slots are rarely long enough for me to fully unpack all the content. So, more often than not, I ended up presenting impromptu, like a stand-up comedian winging it with a PowerPoint. The silver lining is that the participants can always refer back to the slides.
My friends have a blast poking fun at my tendency to run over, often with a cheeky “We knew you’d go overtime,” as they settle in with snacks. And you know what? They’ve absolutely earned that right. I believe the real magic in capturing an audience’s attention lies in storytelling. It’s not just about data or slides; it’s about weaving a narrative in a jig-saw puzzle that pulls people in and keeps them riveted. Who would’ve thought oil palm could be this thrilling, right? These days, though, I’ve become a lot more disciplined. I will still seek for a full-hour, if not I’ve learned to respect the clock — no more impromptu marathons — unless, of course, the crowd demands it!
Here’s the magic of one of those go-to slides from my arsenal — the one that always steals the spotlight and leaves an impression. But more importantly, it’s the one that strikes a chord, sparking a moment of discernment about the world we live in — a world where the playing field in agriculture in addressing food gap is anything but level.
Global Food Gap Puzzle
I first stumbled upon this puzzle sometime around the early 2000s. Someone, somewhere, had coined the thought-provoking term “food gap puzzle,” highlighting the disparities in food distribution across the globe. (Caveat: This puzzle is meant for discernment, not targeting or generalising any particular country or continent).
Imagine the United Nations launching a brilliant survey to solve global food shortages. They ask, “Would you please give your honest opinion about solutions to the food shortage in the rest of the world?”. The survey was sent out to all member nations.
The results were, to put it mildly, catastrophic.
Why? Because, as it turns out, the world is a very uneven playing field. Here’s how the responses might have unfolded:

In Africa, many wouldn’t even understand the word “food” in the survey. In many areas where hunger is a daily reality, food isn’t a commodity — it’s a luxury. Asking for solutions is like asking someone without bus fare to pick lottery numbers.
In Western Europe, the word “shortage” might sound baffling to many. With supermarket shelves packed with cheese, kale and artisanal bread, many would dismiss “shortage” as a distant problem. But ok, let’s not ignore some areas where there is food insecurity today.
In Eastern Europe, the issue wasn’t food or shortage — it was “opinion.” After years of silenced speech under political regimes in the yester-decades, the shortage here may be lesser people willing to speak up.
In the Middle East, the challenge wasn’t a shortage of food, but “solutions” that actually work. After years of conflict, any proposed solutions often may feel as mythical as a unicorn — talked about but never seen.
In South America, the problem was “please.” After centuries of exploitation, many people had developed a healthy suspicion of polite requests with hidden motives.
In Asia, the issue was “honest.” The cultural emphasis on face-saving meant blunt honesty about food shortages took a backseat to maintaining harmony. The same may go in doing business – where sometimes, the line between truth and dishonesty can blur for many. You’d get a lot of smiles, but few truth bombs.
In the U.S., the real issue was “the rest of the world.” Many Americans might not even realise that life exists outside their 50 states — not from malice, but because geography lessons often end at the border.
A Global Paradox: Cobra Effect
As we search for solutions to the food gap puzzle on a non-level playing field, let’s explore the infamous “Cobra Effect” and its relevance to consequences of any banning palm oil advocacies from the global food equation – and replacing it with other edible oils. This isn’t some newfangled snake oil, though it sounds like it could be! No, the cobra effect is a delightful (yet disastrous) phenomenon in which attempts to solve a problem inadvertently make the situation worse.
It’s named after an amusingly ironic situation in colonial India, where the British government, in its infinite wisdom, offered a reward for every dead cobra brought in. The result? People began breeding cobras to collect the bounty. When the government caught on and stopped the reward, all those cobras were promptly released into the wild, multiplying and causing even greater havoc than before.

Now, imagine the Cobra Effect applied to the global food system with the drive to ban palm oil. But here’s where the plot thickens: oil palm is far more productive than other crops. So, what would happen if oil palm disappeared? More areas would likely be cleared to plant alternative crops that simply don’t yield as much per hectare — crops like soy, canola, sunflower, corn or other oilseeds that are far less efficient. The result? More deforestation, more land cleared and more environmental degradation. The very issue you were trying to solve by removing palm oil would become worse! It’s like trying to fix a leaky faucet by using a sledgehammer. The solution would backfire, making the global food crisis even more dire. That’s Cobra Effect.
If palm oil is lobbied to be removed from the food equation, it might initially seem like a noble environmental decision, especially with the criticisms and alleged concerns surrounding its sustainability.
But let’s not be fooled by the surface-level simplicity of this approach. The reality is, sustainability challenges are not exclusive to oil palm. Every crop, as for that matter — every industry, is grappling with similar issues and are addressing them — and these problems extend far beyond just one crop. When we single out or target at oil palm, we risk ignoring the much larger, systemic challenges that impact the entire food system and beyond. The truth is, the challenges — and the opportunities — are far more expansive than we often realise.
To truly make a difference, we must take a step back and see the bigger picture. The way forward is clear, yet urgent: we must champion responsible and sustainable crop production across the entire agricultural sector. It’s not just about oil palm —bit’s about creating a more resilient, sustainable future for all, covering all aspects. To do this, we need consensus and collaboration, backed by third-party certification, traceability and market-supported mechanisms — and more.
Addressing the Food Gap
The global food system is riddled with double standards. Many developed nations lecture on sustainability while often turning a blind eye to their own consumption habits, especially food waste. Meanwhile, palm oil-producing countries, which supply vital raw materials to feed the world, are unfairly targeted for their palm oil production. The irony? These same nations demand more palm oil while critical of its production.
Removing palm oil from the equation would be catastrophic — not just for the economies of producing countries but for the entire global food supply chain. It would be like removing the linchpin from a well-oiled machine, leading to soaring food prices, escalating hunger, and widespread economic disruption.
To solve this global food puzzle, we must be unwavering in our efforts to unite governments, supply chain stakeholders and industry leaders. Sustainability is a delicate and complex balancing act — one that must align social, environmental and economic realities. We can no longer afford to point fingers; the time has come to create effective collaborative spaces where decision-makers can truly understand and respect each region’s unique challenges, and work together to chart a unified course forward.
Promoting sustainable palm oil production is not just about achieving social and environmental goals — it’s also about forging a future where responsible practices and economic considerations can come together to meet the world’s needs. It’s about ensuring that both our planet and its people don’t just survive, but thrive for generations to come. It’s finding that delicate balance, but one worth fighting for, together.
Let’s be real: the world will never be a perfectly level playing field. But if decision-makers and stakeholders across the supply chain can unite with a shared commitment to fairness and responsibility — and maybe a touch of humour to break the tension — then we can avoid turning this into a never-ending cycle of blame and mud fights.
We must try. We must persevere. And together, we must make it happen.
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