How climate change is threatening the future of B.C. fruit farming

Sukhdeep Brar had worked on his family’s Summerland fruit farm for decades, but he had never seen anything even close to this. It was March of 2024, two months after a deep freeze saw temperatures plummet to -30 degrees across the Okanagan Valley, and Brar was walking through what had long been a productive 18-acre peach orchard. But where there had always been buds, the branches were empty.

“We were like, ‘This is  not going to be good,’” remembers Brar, who is also vice president of the BC Fruit Growers’ Association. “There’s nothing here.”

The cherry trees—which make up the bulk of the 160-acre farm—fared better, but only marginally. “The leaves still came out, but the actual fruit didn’t come out,” he says. “I was looking at the blossoms, and they were all dead inside.”

They tried to harvest the cherries they did get, but the cost was too high for the little they could salvage, and after a week they called off the harvest—and even though Brar went looking for peaches on his trees, he never found a single one. Still, he had to cover the costs of maintaining and operating the farm.

Brar says the financial losses were “in the seven figures” and the mental toll was immense. “It was the worst year for me, for sure.”

It was the worst year for many Okanagan fruit growers, where losses skyrocketed into the hundreds of millions. For some, it was a knockout blow— especially following the COVID pandemic, the 2021 heat dome and multiple deep freezes that also bit into their bottom lines.

Adding to the already precarious situation, because of the low fruit volumes the BC Tree Fruits Cooperative—which was instrumental in packing, storing and marketing Okanagan fruits—suddenly ceased operations, leaving growers in a deepening spiral.

Dr. Kirsten Hannam, systems agro-ecologist with Agriculture and Agri-Food Canada, says one of the biggest issues is a phenomenon known as compounding damages. For example, a cold snap might cause damage to the stem tissue of an apple tree; then wing moths will nibble around at the graft union; then that dead tissue is susceptible to invasion by bacteria or fungi. With each extreme heat wave and freeze, the problems are adding up.

“Eventually you have a tree that’s got so much damage on its stem that it struggles to pull water up, and the tree is already teetering on the brink of not being able to feed its foliage with enough water and nutrients. Then we get a really warm spell, and the trees just collapse,” says Hannam, who is based in Summerland.

“With one of these events or another, a fruit tree or grape vine could have probably endured. But when there’s this death by a thousand cuts it  just pushes these systems over the edge.”

Hannam says researchers have been looking into everything from the best root stocks for a changing climate to the optimal orientation for orchards, and from soil amendments to protective structures like nets and  sun shades—but the dramatic shifts in climate have upped the ante.

“We’re realizing how urgently we need to figure out which of these are the most practical and effective, and worth the growers’ investment,” she says. By their nature orchards require significant capital, she adds, and then take three or four years for the trees to become productive, so growers can’t be as nimble as those who grow crops that are easily rotated. “If you lose your trees or vines, you can’t recover next year the way you can if you’re growing wheat or lettuce. So I really feel for them.”

B.C.’s Minister of Agriculture and Food Lana Popham—also a former farmer—says that in farming circles climate change has been considered a slow roll, but its effects are speeding up. In response, the government has put in more than $225 million to support tree fruit growers since 2020, including $100 million to replace tree fruit, grape and berry crops, which are especially vulnerable to climate change. Funds were also earmarked for crop protection, B.C. fruit marketing and more. In February the government announced an additional $10 million to help farmers catch up on bills.

Farmers are incredibly resilient, she adds; they also understand that in calmer years, it’s essential to plan for the next big curve ball. “I think we’re going to have a good year, which we haven’t had for a while. That’s what we mostly need,” says Popham. “Because if we keep having failure after failure every year, it’s not affordable, and there probably isn’t enough money to be able to fix the problem.”

Brar agrees that, more than anything, farmers need a good year. The government funds have helped, but after years of climate crises, for many it hasn’t been nearly enough.

On his family farm, they have ripped out a block of peach trees and are replanting, which represents a sizable investment. “For how much we pay per acre here, I need something that produces a lot of fruit to make it worth it,” he says. “If you’re spending $200,000 to 250,000 per  acre, I need something that will actually make some money back.”

Many growers have exited the industry, he says, and more are thinking of following suit. Others are still going but wondering why they’re doing it, while securing loans and credit lines with their banks.

Smaller farms are selling to larger operations, which is creating consolidation—but even those who have 50 acres still have to work side jobs, says Brar. Climate mitigation measures are costly, he adds, and insurance costs are  going up while coverage is coming down—and unlike crop farmers who can simply plant more profitable crops, his family’s business has  deep roots.

“I’m not a canola grower who can switch to soybeans. I plant a tree, and my tree needs to last me 25 years,” says Brar, who is hopeful that this season marks a more “normal” year. “There’s always going to be rain, there’s always going to be something. I’ve dealt with that my whole life,” he says. “But this has to be the year.”