Farmers are sitting on their hands, hoping things will improve, which they probably won't
A war fought thousands of miles away is quietly reshaping the economics of eating. Since the conflict in Iran disrupted shipping through the Strait of Hormuz in late February 2026, fertiliser prices in the UK have surged between 50 and 70 percent, severing the flow of liquefied natural gas that underpins global nitrogen fertiliser production. This year's harvests may hold, but 2026 stands as a reckoning — not only for farmers navigating impossible margins, but for the world's most vulnerable communities, where the distance between a blocked shipping lane and an empty plate is shorter than most people imagine.
- The Strait of Hormuz — one of the world's most critical chokepoints — has been effectively closed by Iran's Revolutionary Guard, stranding roughly 1,600 vessels and severing the main artery for liquefied natural gas used to produce nitrogen fertilisers.
- UK fertiliser costs have surged up to 70% since late February, hitting farmers already operating on razor-thin margins and forcing industry figures like Grosvenor Group's Mark Preston to describe the situation as a full-blown crisis.
- Unlike oil, nitrogen fertiliser has almost no alternative supply routes, meaning there is no quick fix — farmers are sitting on their hands, delaying purchases and hoping prices fall, a collective hesitation that risks deepening the eventual supply shock.
- Britain's 2025 harvests are largely shielded by pre-purchased stock, but 2026 looms as the year the crisis lands on grocery shelves, with 80% of UK consumers already anxious about food prices.
- The gravest threat falls on Africa's poorest communities, where food security is already fragile and alternative nitrogen sources are nearly nonexistent — Yara International, the world's largest fertiliser company, has warned of potential shortages and price spikes in the regions least equipped to absorb them.
The war in Iran has set in motion a slow-moving crisis that most people won't feel until they reach the supermarket checkout. Since the conflict began in late February, fertiliser prices in the UK have jumped between 50 and 70 percent — a consequence of the Strait of Hormuz being effectively closed by Iran's Revolutionary Guard, stranding around 1,600 vessels and cutting off the liquefied natural gas that fertiliser manufacturers depend on. Mark Preston, who oversees operations for the Grosvenor Group — a centuries-old farming and property empire connected to the Duke of Westminster — described the situation plainly: fertiliser was already expensive. Now it has become a crisis.
Unlike oil, nitrogen fertiliser has no ready alternatives. The strait is its primary artery, and with it blocked, production of urea and other nitrogen-based products has slowed dramatically. This year's UK harvest is largely protected — most farmers bought their supplies before prices spiked — but the industry is bracing for 2026. Rather than purchasing at inflated prices, farmers are waiting, hoping the market corrects. That collective hesitation, spread across thousands of operations, risks making the eventual supply crunch worse.
Grosvenor itself is somewhat cushioned, relying heavily on cow manure from its large Cheshire dairy operation rather than synthetic fertiliser. But Preston was clear-eyed about the broader stakes: "It's going to be a very, very dramatic problem for the world, not just the UK in terms of food."
The deepest concern lies in Africa's most vulnerable regions, where food security already hangs by a thread and alternative nitrogen sources barely exist. Yara International has warned of potential shortages and price spikes in communities that can least afford them. A recent poll found 80 percent of British consumers already anxious about grocery costs — an anxiety that will only sharpen as next year approaches. The timeline for recovery hinges entirely on when the strait reopens, a question no one can answer. Until then, the gap between a blocked shipping lane and an empty plate grows narrower by the day.
The war in Iran has quietly upended something most people never think about until they're standing in a supermarket: the price of fertiliser, and by extension, the cost of food itself. Since late February, when the conflict began, fertiliser prices in the UK have jumped between 50 and 70 percent. For farmers already operating on thin margins, the increase has been brutal. Mark Preston, who runs day-to-day operations for the Grosvenor Group—a 349-year-old property and farming empire controlled by the Duke of Westminster—put it plainly: fertiliser was expensive before the war. Now it's become a crisis.
The chokepoint is the Strait of Hormuz, a shipping passage so narrow and so critical that roughly 1,600 vessels are currently stranded there. Iran's Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps has effectively closed it, and though officials suggested this week it might reopen soon, the damage to global supply chains is already spreading. The strait is the main route through which liquefied natural gas flows to fertiliser manufacturers around the world. Without it, the production of nitrogen-based fertilisers like urea has slowed to a crawl. There are no easy workarounds. Unlike oil, which has alternative sources and suppliers scattered across the globe, nitrogen fertiliser has almost nowhere else to come from.
This year's UK harvest will likely escape the worst of it. Most British farmers bought their fertiliser before prices spiked, so their spring and summer crops are already planted and fed. But Preston and others in the industry are bracing for next year. Farmers, he explained, are not rushing to buy fertiliser at these inflated prices. They're waiting, hoping the market will settle, hoping the strait will reopen, hoping things will improve. "Farmers are not buying that fertiliser, they're sitting on their hands and hoping things will improve, which they probably won't," Preston said. The longer they wait, the more precarious the situation becomes.
The real danger lies elsewhere—in Africa's poorest and most vulnerable regions, where food security already hangs by a thread. Yara International, the world's largest fertiliser company, has warned that the Middle East conflict could trigger food shortages and price spikes in communities that can least afford them. A research poll this week found that 80 percent of British consumers are already anxious about grocery prices, which retailers have begun passing directly to shoppers. That anxiety will likely intensify as 2026 approaches.
Grosvenor itself is somewhat insulated from the crisis. The company owns one of the UK's leading farms—a sprawling dairy and arable operation in Cheshire that produces millions of litres of milk for supermarket chains like Tesco and Müller. But Grosvenor relies heavily on cow manure rather than synthetic fertiliser, a practice that shields it from the worst of the price shock. Still, Preston acknowledged the scale of what's coming. "It's going to be a very, very dramatic problem for the world, not just the UK in terms of food," he said, "just because so much fertiliser comes through those straits."
The timeline for recovery depends entirely on when the Strait of Hormuz reopens—a question no one can answer with certainty. Until then, farmers face a grim calculus: buy expensive fertiliser now or gamble that prices will fall and supplies will return. Most are gambling. That collective hesitation, multiplied across thousands of farms, could deepen the supply shock when it finally arrives. By next year, the knock-on effects will be impossible to ignore. Grocery shelves will reflect it. Family budgets will feel it. And in the world's poorest regions, where malnutrition is already endemic, the impact could be measured in hunger.
Citas Notables
It's going to be a very, very dramatic problem for the world, not just the UK in terms of food, just because so much fertiliser comes through those straits.— Mark Preston, executive trustee of Grosvenor Group
The concern is at least as much, if not more, around food and fertiliser than it is around oil, because there are alternative sources of oil. There aren't very many alternative sources of nitrogen, for the production of fertiliser.— Mark Preston
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does a war in Iran affect fertiliser prices so directly? Isn't fertiliser made in lots of places?
The Strait of Hormuz is where liquefied natural gas flows through to fertiliser plants worldwide. It's the critical input for making nitrogen fertiliser. Close that strait, and you've essentially cut off the fuel that powers fertiliser production globally. There aren't alternative routes or alternative suppliers the way there are for oil.
So farmers could just buy more fertiliser now, before prices get worse, right?
You'd think so. But fertiliser is expensive even before a 70 percent price spike. Most farmers operate on tight margins. Buying at these prices means betting that food prices will rise enough to cover the cost. Many are choosing to wait instead, hoping prices fall. It's a gamble, but it's the only leverage they have.
You mentioned UK crops are mostly safe this year. Why?
Because farmers already purchased and applied most of their fertiliser before the war started in late February. The growing season was already underway. Next year is when the real problem arrives—when they have to decide whether to buy at inflated prices or plant less.
Who gets hurt worst by this?
The poorest communities in Africa. They depend on imported food and have no cushion when prices spike. In wealthy countries, people grumble about grocery bills. In vulnerable regions, price increases can mean the difference between eating and going hungry.
Is there any way out of this?
The strait has to reopen. That's the only real solution. Farmers have some flexibility—they can shift to spring crops instead of winter crops, which gives them a bit more time. But fundamentally, until that shipping passage opens again, the pressure keeps building.