Good morning!

Today I'm here with a topic that seems straight out of a science fiction movie: drone pollination. Yes, you read that right. It turns out that flying robots are already replacing bees.

Autonomous drones flying through fields, with their sensors and mini-pollen tanks, buzzing among flowers like futuristic mechanical insects. And although what I'm about to tell you isn't exactly a Black Mirror episode, it's not far off.

The idea, on paper, has its charm: in places where bee populations have been lost due to pesticides, diseases, or simply habitat loss, these drones could spring into action. They fly with precision, release pollen onto selected flowers thanks to sensors that detect which ones are ready to be pollinated, and theoretically help ensure the harvest.

There are farmers in Japan who already use them in greenhouses. And if things get complicated with the lack of pollinators, who knows, perhaps they will soon start appearing in our Valencian fields too.

For example, with the pitaya flower, the situation for pollinators is sometimes difficult because it's a nocturnal job, and its flowers, being so large, require manual pollination. Some time ago I told you about this in this newsletter.

But now comes the other side of the coin. Because, as they say in the countryside, "when you see an unshorn sheep... there's a reason." And it is that despite its apparent modernity, this type of pollination poses dangers that we are not yet prepared to face.

First is the pollen. Where does the pollen these drones use come from? Well, it's not always known for sure. To date, there is no robust system that guarantees the origin, traceability, and health of commercial pollen.

And what happens if that pollen is loaded with fungi, viruses, or bacteria without anyone knowing? Well, imagine a drone distributing invisible spores at full speed across half a field of orange trees. What seemed like help can become a Trojan horse.

In fact, recent studies have detected pathogens such as Botrytis or Sclerotinia in pollen used for drones. And the most worrying thing is that this type of cross-contamination not only affects plants.

When we introduce new pathogens into an area, we are also affecting the insects in the environment. And if we start interfering with biodiversity — that same biodiversity that has been balancing our orchards for centuries — we run the risk of breaking something that we don't know how to repair.

In addition, there's the issue of biocontrol. Because if you didn't know, natural pollinators (bees, yes, but also beetles, hoverflies, and a long list of critters) don't just carry pollen. They also help keep certain pests at bay naturally.

But if their visits drop by 40%, as has been observed in several areas where this technology has been tested... that balance goes out the window. And the only Plan B, for now, is to go back to the chemicals that have already done so much damage to the countryside.

To top it off, there is also no clear regulation. Some countries have already banned this practice in high-biodiversity areas or treat it as a biological pesticide. But in the EU itself, they are still figuring out what to do. This is progressing faster than regulations, and that is always a recipe for disaster.

Therefore, from here, we continue to advocate for the usual: respecting cycles, taking care of bees, planting auxiliary flowers on the edges of fields, and working hand in hand with nature and not against it. It may be that putting up solitary bee houses or planting flowering hedges doesn't look as impressive as having an army of drones buzzing around, but in the long run, it yields many more fruits, in every sense.

So now you know: before applauding the "technological solution of the year," it's worth asking the usual question: is this helping the countryside... or just patching up the problems we ourselves have created?

We, as always, remain grounded. Literally.

Have a great week! 🌿

Agricultor

Marketing Campos Del Abuelo