OPINION: By Toby Williams, Federated Farmers meat & wool chair
From the golden age of wool to lamb roasts at Sunday dinner, sheep farming has sat at the heart of our national identity for generations.
We used to proudly say New Zealand was built off the sheep’s back-but today our sheep farmers are sitting at a crossroads, unsure which way to turn.
Our sector is in crisis – and we can no longer face it alone.
Sheep are quickly becoming an endangered species in New Zealand. Their main predators? Pines, pigs, and poor Government policy.
To paint a picture for you: I’m only 44, and in my lifetime alone we’ve already lost over two-thirds of our national flock.
That’s not just a scary statistic-it’s a warning sign that our policy settings are badly broken and that something is very wrong.
Since 2007, when the Emissions Trading Scheme (ETS) was first introduced, our national flock has shrunk by 40%. We’re now losing almost a million sheep every year.
If that trajectory continues, within the next two decades there’ll be no sheep left in New Zealand. Is that really the future we want for our country?
As sheep numbers continue to decline, huge pressure is being put on the critical infrastructure that supports our red meat sector, like meatworks, shearers and stock trucks.
Without sufficient livestock, our meat processors-already operating on tight margins-will struggle to justify the continued investment required to continue operating.
The economics simply don’t work. Alliance’s Smithfield meatworks in Timaru has already closed its doors, and that’s not a one-off: it’s a symptom of the times.
This is not the situation our farmers should be facing, but even with strong prices for red meat, farmers are still exiting the industry. Their confidence has evaporated.
When farmers aren’t investing despite good returns, it means they’re looking at the broader policy picture-and they don’t like what they see.
So, what does a sheep farmer see when they look out their window? Right now, it’s nothing but pine trees, pests, and politicians breaking promises.
New Zealand’s climate policy is creating huge uncertainty, and the endless push to plant pine trees risks forever changing the face of our rural communities.
Between 2017 and 2024 alone, 260,000 hectares of sheep and beef land were converted to pine-not because forestry is a better use of that land, but because of our flawed ETS settings.
This is short-sighted, dangerous policy. We’re sacrificing food production, rural jobs, and community resilience at the altar of carbon accounting.
Sheep farmers are not climate deniers. We’ve always been environmental stewards, understand the land better than most, and want to leave it in better shape for the next generation.
But regulation must be grounded in practical reality, not ideology. Blanket environmental rules that fail to consider the nuances of hill country farming are doing more harm than good.
The great irony in all of this is New Zealand sheep farmers are among the most efficient and sustainable producers of red meat in the world.
Our carbon footprint per kilogram of lamb is lower than virtually any other nation, and our wool is a renewable and biodegradable alternative to synthetic fibres and plastics.
So why are our sheep-farming families being punished, rather than rewarded, for the work we do behind our farm gate? The answer is simple: politics.
Unfortunately, the electoral math is not in our favour. Politicians will always chase the votes of big population centres like Auckland and Wellington over small rural communities.
There also seems to be an attitude in the halls of power that the farming vote can be taken for granted, but those who hold that view should tread carefully.
So, what’s the solution? I think New Zealanders need to ask themselves a simple question: do we still value our sheep industry? Because if we do, we need to act-and fast.
It’s time to start valuing food production and put an end to the broken climate policies that are turning productive farmland into pine plantations and pest havens.
Farmers are sounding the alarm. This is our SOS. Please save our sheep-before it’s too late.