This Isn’t a Food System. It’s Supermarket Hegemony.

Alfred Henry Lewis once warned that we are only nine meals from anarchy. That’s not a historical truth, it's a warning.

Right now in Ireland, there are just 60 commercial vegetable growers left.
In the late 1990s, there were around 600.

And the number is still falling.

A major carrot grower in Wexford — one of the backbone suppliers in the country — has recently exited the industry. Not because they forgot how to grow food, but because the numbers simply no longer stack up.

Year after year, supermarkets push prices downward.
Growers are expected to absorb rising costs — labour, energy, fuel — and still produce perfect food for less money. The current fuel situation will only tighten that pressure further.

So when a grower walks away, they’re not replaced.
Young people aren’t entering the sector. The risk is too high, and the returns too low.

Of the 60 growers that remain, 52 are producing just one or two crops, often tied to a single supermarket contract.

At the same time, five supermarket chains control roughly 93% of the Irish grocery market.

So let’s call it what it is:

This isn’t a healthy food system.
It’s supermarket hegemony.

A fragile, highly concentrated supply chain — controlled at the top and hollowed out at the bottom.

We are losing growers faster than we are replacing them.
And nobody seems to be asking what happens when we reach 50… 40… or fewer.

Because when the growers are gone, they’re gone.

A European Problem — But Not an Equal One

Across Europe, growers are under pressure.

Countries like Netherlands, Spain and France have all seen farm numbers decline due to:

Retail consolidation 

Rising input costs 

Imports undercutting local produce 

Unfair supermarket standards 

But those countries still have something Ireland is rapidly losing:

Scale. Infrastructure. Depth. They are still farming a similar amount of land for vegetables. 

Why Ireland Is More Exposed

Ireland hasn’t just declined — in vegetables, it has collapsed.

1. A Small, Isolated Market

Ireland has no meaningful wholesale system like France, limited export scale, and relies heavily on imports. When a local grower disappears, there is no one to replace them.

2. Retail Power Concentration

With 93% of the market controlled by five players, most growers have one buyer and no leverage. In larger countries, growers still have multiple routes to market. Here, many have just one.

3. Lack of support for Production Infrastructure

Countries like Netherlands, backed by favourable loans from state supported banks have built vast protected growing systems. Irish growers received no such support and so has very little in comparison — meaning shorter seasons, higher risk, and less consistency.

4. Policy Neglect at Government Level. 

Irish agriculture has focused on beef and dairy. Horticulture has been left behind — underfunded, under-supported, and without any long-term strategy. Our current so called minister for Horticulture is a gombeen in a flat cap who wouldn’t know a carrot from a block of cheddar cheese. 

5. The Cost Squeeze

Ireland is an expensive place to grow food. Labour, land, and energy costs are high — but growers are expected to compete with EU pricing dictated by indigenous supermarkets.

The result is simple:

👉 High costs + falling prices = growers exiting and no replacement. 

The Reality We’re Facing

Every country in Europe is losing growers.

But most still have:

Depth 

Alternatives 

Resilience 

Ireland doesn’t.

We have:

Very few growers left 

Limited crop diversity 

Heavy reliance on a handful of retailers 

Growing dependence on imports 

The Real Risk

If a grower exits in Spain, the system absorbs it.

If a grower exits in Ireland…
you feel it immediately.

That’s the difference.

We are relying more and more on imports, and in an uncertain world, how certain are we that we can continue to import even basic food stuffs. 

What if there is a war?

What if fuel supply dries up?

What if our supply lines are cut?

These are all risks we would have laughed at a few short years ago, yet now they feel somehow imminent.

And it brings us back to the same uncomfortable truth:

Nine meals. That’s all it ever takes.