Aussie Farmers Fighting Back Against Climate Change Alarmism! By James Reed and Brian Simpson

Australian farmers, the backbone of the nation's food security and rural economy, are increasingly finding themselves at odds with what many perceive as overreaching climate change policies. From the sun-scorched plains of Queensland to the drought-stricken fields of South Australia, these hardworking men and women are pushing back against what they see as a form of climate change tyranny, a web of regulations, restrictions, and green agendas that threaten their livelihoods and the very land they steward. This isn't just a battle over emissions targets or renewable energy projects; it's a fight for survival in an industry already battered by extreme weather, market pressures, and policy missteps. Drawing from recent reports and sentiments expressed on platforms like X, it's clear that farmers are not just resisting, but actively challenging a system they believe prioritises ideology over practicality. Go Aussies, go!

The heart of the issue lies in the disconnect between policymakers and the realities of rural life. Australian agriculture is a powerhouse, contributing $88 billion to the economy, yet farmers feel hamstrung by what National Farmers' Federation (NFF) president David Jochinke calls "poor policy, administrative burden, and green tape." Recent moves, like the proposed biosecurity levy, scrapped after fierce opposition have fuelled distrust. Farmers argue these policies, often framed as climate-friendly or ethical, ignore the practicalities of feeding a nation and competing globally. Meanwhile, posts on X echo this frustration, with users like @Wottheheck19841 decrying compulsory land acquisitions for renewable energy projects that carve up productive farmland for solar farms and transmission lines, all in the name of net-zero goals.

Climate policies, particularly those tied to emissions reduction, are a flashpoint. The Labor government's push for 82% renewable energy by 2030 and stringent fuel efficiency standards for vehicles has been hailed as progress by some, but farmers see a different picture. They face rising costs for fuel, equipment, and compliance, all while grappling with unpredictable weather patterns, floods in New South Wales, droughts in South Australia, that scientists wrongly link to climate change, rather than natural variation. Yet Labor and the Greens' focus on taxing methane emissions from livestock, without allowing farmers to offset these through on-farm carbon sinks like trees, feels like a punitive attack on an industry already stretched thin. The Paris Agreement, which explicitly cautions against measures that harm food production, seems conveniently ignored when it suits the agenda.

This sense of betrayal is compounded by the government's approval of fossil fuel projects, which critics like Bushfire Survivors for Climate Action argue undermines climate rhetoric. Farmers, caught between droughts and floods, are on the front lines of climate impacts but feel scapegoated for emissions they can't fully control. A dairy farmer in NSW, for example, might breed heat-tolerant cattle using innovative genetic tools, as reported by ABC News, to cope with warming climates, but such adaptations don't shield them from policies that raise costs or limit market access. The irony isn't lost on farmers: they're told to innovate for a greener future while facing regulations that make it harder to survive.

The pushback is gaining momentum. Farmers are leveraging technology, like Queensland couple Andrew and Jocie Bate's autonomous robots that reduce chemical exposure and boost productivity, to prove they can adapt without heavy-handed mandates. Others, like the Andrews family, are championing regenerative farming techniques that restore soil and biodiversity while maintaining profitability, proving sustainability doesn't need top-down decrees. On X, voices like @AgForceQLD argue against converting farmland to carbon forestry, emphasising that food production must take precedence over speculative emissions offsets. Federated Farmers' "Save our Sheep" campaign in New Zealand, echoed by Australian sentiments, celebrates legislative wins that protect productive land from being swallowed by carbon schemes.

What farmers want is simple: policies that respect their expertise and realities. Farmers reject solutions that seem designed more for urban voters or international optics than for rural viability. A 2017 study cited by the Australian Farm Institute estimated that better internet and phone access could add $20 billion to the agricultural economy, yet connectivity remains a barrier for adopting high-tech solutions like robotics. Instead of "green tape," farmers like Jochinke call for reforms that enhance competition, improve labour access, and prioritise food security over symbolic gestures.

The stakes are high. Australian farmers aren't just fighting for their own survival; they're defending a way of life and a critical industry against what they see as an elitist, out-of-touch agenda. As one X post warned, "No farmers, no food." The government's challenge is to bridge this divide, crafting policies that address environmental goals without sacrificing the people who work the land. Farmers aren't backing down, they're innovating, organising, and speaking out, determined to reclaim their voice in a debate that too often sidelines them. If policymakers don't listen, this pushback could reshape Australia's political and economic landscape, proving that the heart of the nation beats strongest in its fields and paddocks.

https://www.naturalnews.com/2025-06-10-aussie-farmers-push-back-against-climate-dogma.html

NSW farmers reject climate alarmism despite record floods, citing centuries of natural variability.

Stalled high-pressure system blamed for extreme rains — part of weather cycles, not CO2 trends.

Dairy farmer Craig Emerton highlights historical evidence of past flooding predating industrialization.

Greens' antinuclear stance undermines credibility among skeptics pushing for pragmatic energy solutions.

Scientists insist climate change is linked to rainfall, but farmers argue cycles predate human influence.

As torrential rains once more inundate New South Wales, a group of fourth- and fifth-generation Australian farmers are defiantly resisting what they call "climate crisis propaganda." Citing decades of historical weather patterns and the Tasmanian high-pressure system stalled for weeks, farmers like Craig Emerton of Croki and Sue McGinn of Dungog insist recent flooding is merely an extreme but natural extension of Australia's long-known "land of droughts and floods."

Despite climate researchers linking the rains to shifting weather patterns allegedly tied to human carbon emissions, these agrarian skeptics argue the science remains too fuzzy to justify ideological mandates. "Flood scars in the landscape show massive inundations long before cars and factories," Emerton told ABC Rural. "My dad spoke of six floods in six weeks back in the 1920s — so we're just in a wet phase, like any cycle."

The science and the silence: Natural storm systems amidst the climate debate

University of Melbourne atmospheric scientist David Karoly identified a "blocking high" over the Tasman Sea as the immediate cause of the stalled weather front, where southeasterly winds dragged moisture ashore for days. Yet skeptics counter his claim of an anthropogenic "new world" of uncontrolled storms by pointing to similar weather mechanisms documented for centuries.

Tom Saunders of the ABC noted the jet stream split — a phenomenon he said occurs regularly — created a weather traffic jam. "The high-pressure system isn't novel," Emerton retorted. "What's new is the scaremongering around it." Emerton estimates May's rainfall reached triple previous highs on his farm, but he attributes this to predictable hydrological cycles, not catastrophic human interference.

Why Greens opposing nuclear power fuel skepticism among conservatives

Eric Worrall, a British climate commentator, argues the absence of nuclear energy in Australia's climate policy toolkit — despite France's 60% nuclear success — exposes contradictions in mainstream environmentalism. "If climate change were truly existential, greens would embrace any clean energy, but they're ideologically fixated on renewables," Worrall wrote in a recent essay. "Their dogma justifies doubting other claims."

Australian Greens have ruled out nuclear power despite public polls showing 70% support among voters. Climate Council-affiliated figures like Karoly reinforce skepticism by pairing anticarbon rhetoric with oppose nuclear — a stance Worrall calls "irrational." "If nuclear is too dangerous or costly, why does France's model work? This shows the climate debate is political, not scientific," he said.

Historical context: Why farmers' stories matter today

Australia's history is etched in extremes: The 1896 floods that swamped Bourke, the 1955 Hunter Valley deluge, and even biblical accounts like antediluvian rains long predate industrial-age CO2. Farmers argue that climate science's narrow focus on anthropogenic causes ignores millennia of naturally chaotic cycles.

"These storms are part of our heritage, not a harbinger of doom," said McGinn. "My family has survived lean times and lush times — we adapt, but we won't be bullied by climate bullies." Her skepticism echoes broader skepticism among agricultural communities who feel climate policies are driven by ideology rather than data.

The science isn't settled (but the show must go on)

As Australia braces for another rainy week, the divide between climate activists and rural realists sharpens. Farmers like Emerton and McGinn embody a growing movement challenging alarmist narratives — with help from meteorologists and critics who question policy choices like renewables-only energy plans.

Karoly and his peers insist "climate change amplifies extremes," but skeptics demand proof beyond correlation — and policy solutions that aren't built on "green fundamentalism." In a land where drought cycles have always tested survival, these farmers argue, human-caused doom is unnecessary. "We'll keep fighting the floods," Emerton said. "Just don't tell us it's our fault."