Governments are playing a dangerous game by promoting food for fuel
As oil markets reel from geopolitical rupture, governments are reaching for an ancient instinct — turning food into fuel — and in doing so, may be trading one crisis for another. The surge in biofuel production, driven by constrained oil supplies and political urgency, threatens to repeat the painful lessons of 2007 and 2008, when crop-based fuels helped push food prices beyond the reach of the world's most vulnerable. In the tension between energy security and food security, the choices made now will be felt most acutely by those who had no voice in making them.
- With oil near $100 a barrel and the Strait of Hormuz closed, governments are racing to expand biofuels — but the cure may be as dangerous as the disease.
- Biofuel demand could surge 70% by 2030, consuming land and fertiliser already stretched thin by war, drought, and geopolitical disruption.
- The ghost of the 2007–08 food crisis looms large: biofuels drove up to 70% of maize and soya price spikes then, and the conditions today are arguably worse.
- Fertiliser scarcity from the Iran conflict is already lifting staple food prices, and every tonne diverted to fuel crops tightens the squeeze on the world's poorest.
- Researchers argue the real solution is already within reach — solar panels on just 3% of current biofuel land could power a third of global vehicles, far more efficiently.
Oil has climbed to nearly $100 a barrel. The Strait of Hormuz is closed. In the wake of strikes on Iran, global energy markets are in turmoil, and governments are scrambling — reaching for biofuels as a lifeline. But energy analysts warn that burning crops to replace oil could set off a cascade of consequences far more damaging than the crisis it seeks to solve.
Demand for biofuels is expected to surge by roughly a third this year alone, with the US, Indonesia, Brazil, and others blending more crop-based fuels into their energy supply. If oil stays constrained, that demand could climb 70% by 2030 — requiring vast tracts of land and fertiliser already under severe strain. One in five tonnes of fertiliser in Indonesia already feeds fuel crops, not people. With the Iran war squeezing fertiliser supplies and pushing prices higher, the cost of rice, wheat, and corn is rising for those least able to absorb it.
The historical warning is unambiguous. During the 2007–08 food crises, the UN estimated biofuels accounted for 40–70% of price increases in maize and soya. The US is already projecting food price inflation of up to 4.7% this year. Kädi Ristkok of Transport & Environment was direct: governments are trying to solve an oil crisis, but biofuels can only ever be marginal without devastating food and environmental consequences.
The alternative, analysts say, is hiding in plain sight. Solar panels on just 3% of the land currently used for biofuels would generate equivalent energy — and because electric vehicles are far more efficient than combustion engines, that power could fuel roughly a third of the world's cars. The choice, as one analyst put it, is between burning food and building a smarter system. The math strongly favours the latter.
Oil has climbed to nearly $100 a barrel. The strait of Hormuz is closed. American and Israeli strikes on Iran have upended global energy markets, and governments are scrambling for alternatives. What they're reaching for—biofuels, made from crops and organic matter—could trigger a cascade of consequences that ripple far beyond the pump.
Demand for biofuels is expected to surge by roughly a third this year alone. The US, Indonesia, Brazil, Thailand, and others are moving to blend more of these crop-based fuels with traditional fossil fuels, betting that the move will ease their energy crunch. But energy analysts and climate researchers are sounding an alarm: this is a dangerous calculation, one that treats food as a commodity to burn when oil gets scarce.
The math is stark. If oil supplies stay constrained, biofuel demand could climb 70% by 2030, according to Transport & Environment, a research organization focused on sustainable transport. That expansion would require vast amounts of land and fertiliser—resources already under strain. Globally, one in every twenty tonnes of fertiliser goes to growing crops for fuel. In the United States, it's one in ten. In Indonesia, it's one in five. The war in Iran has already squeezed fertiliser supplies and sent prices soaring, which means the cost of staple foods—rice, wheat, corn—is climbing for some of the world's poorest people.
Kädi Ristkok, the energy and climate director at Transport & Environment, put it bluntly: governments are playing a dangerous game. They're trying to solve an oil crisis, he said, but biofuels can only ever be a marginal part of the energy system without devastating consequences. The unintended impacts on food prices and the environment are enormous. The more crops we burn for fuel, the more fertilisers we will need—and fertiliser is already scarce and expensive.
Biofuels currently supply about 4% of the world's transport energy. If countries follow through on their expansion plans, that would rise to 6%. Reaching 20% would require an area of land the size of South Africa. There is no realistic way to expand biofuel production at that scale without competing directly with food crops for the same finite resources. During the food crises of 2007 and 2008, the UN's Food and Agriculture Organization estimated that biofuel use accounted for between 40% and 70% of the price increases in maize and soya beans. The US is already forecasting that food prices will rise between 2.2% and 4.7% this year, largely because of the war's ripple effects.
Simon Suzan, a principal energy analyst at Transport & Environment, said the impact could be significant—though the exact magnitude is difficult to predict. What is clear is that there are far more efficient alternatives. Solar panels covering just 3% of the land currently used for biofuel production would generate the same amount of energy. Because electric vehicles are so much more efficient than combustion engines, that solar energy would be enough to power roughly a third of the global car fleet. Electrification, not burning food, is where the real solution lies.
Notable Quotes
Biofuels can never play more than a marginal role in our energy system without devastating consequences. The unintended impacts on food prices and the environment are enormous.— Kädi Ristkok, energy and climate director at Transport & Environment
The more crops we burn, the more fertilisers we will need.— Kädi Ristkok, Transport & Environment
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why are governments turning to biofuels now, when they know the risks?
Because oil at $100 a barrel feels like an emergency. When energy prices spike that fast, governments reach for whatever looks like a quick fix. Biofuels are already part of the system—they're blendable, they're domestic, they feel controllable. But they're solving one crisis by creating another.
How directly does biofuel expansion affect food prices?
It's not abstract. The same fertiliser that grows corn for your table grows corn for your fuel tank. When fertiliser is scarce and expensive—which it is now—both prices rise. In 2007 and 2008, biofuel demand accounted for nearly half of the spike in staple crop prices. We're walking into that same trap again.
Is there any way to expand biofuels without harming food security?
Not at scale. You'd need an area the size of South Africa just to reach 20% of global road fuel from biofuels. The land doesn't exist without taking it from food production. That's the hard truth.
So what's the alternative?
Electrification. It's more efficient, it uses less land, and it doesn't compete with food. Three percent of current biofuel land covered in solar panels could power a third of the world's cars. It's not a quick fix, but it doesn't sacrifice food security to buy time.
Who bears the cost if biofuel expansion goes ahead?
The poorest people. They spend the largest share of their income on food. When staple prices climb, they're the ones who go hungry first. That's why experts are calling this a dangerous game—it's not a cost shared equally.