WHEN guests visit, they usually ring the doorbell. Some send a WhatsApp message beforehand. The considerate ones even ask whether it is a convenient time.
Then, there is El Nino, Spanish for “the little boy”. It simply lets itself in, and when it arrives, farmers, food prices and palm oil all get the message.
It comes carrying heat, drought, floods, anxious commodity markets and the unmistakable sound of governments, farmers and businesses scrambling through contingency plans they meant to read last year.
Wherever it goes, harvests become nervous, reservoirs become shallower and economists suddenly discover an interest in ocean temperatures.
Few visitors travel so far and leave such large bills behind.
For much of early 2026, meteorologists spoke cautiously. The probability of El Nino returning in the second half of the year was still around 50% to 60% – serious, but leaving room for comfort, denial and the occasional optimistic shrug.
Then, the numbers climbed – 80%, 90%. Forecast after forecast pointed in the same direction. The Pacific was warming. The warnings were getting louder.
Now the conversation has changed again. El Nino is no longer approaching. It is here.
The US National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) has just officially confirmed El Nino conditions in the Pacific, with forecasters warning that this event could strengthen into one of the largest on record since 1950.
The knock on the door has become heavy footsteps in the hallway.
Meteorologists are no longer debating whether El Nino will come.
They are debating how strong it will become. Planters are looking at the sky.
Unless nature performs one of her unexpected miracles, the world may be heading into considerable climate distress. The question is no longer whether El Nino will come, but whether governments, farmers, food systems, energy planners, markets and consumers are ready for what follows. Are we prepared?
When warning becomes reality
El Nino begins quietly enough – with unusually warm waters across the central and eastern Pacific. No drums, no trumpets, no press conferences.
Think of it as climate’s rogue conductor. With a flick of its baton, it rewrites the world’s weather score, leaving wheat fields, rice paddies, maize belts, cocoa farms, coffee hills and oil palm estates waiting to discover which part of the orchestra will suffer loudest.
That is El Nino’s strange power. It never attends commodity conferences, publishes market outlooks or speaks at investor briefings. Yet, it can move billions.
Recent reports warn of higher risks from heatwaves, floods, droughts, wildfires and wider agricultural disruption.
The impact will not be evenly shared.
El Nino is not a fair tax system. Some regions may get too much rain; others none when they need it most. Some may briefly benefit. Others may watch fields, reservoirs and budgets shrink together.
Consumers discover that grocery bills have developed a personality of their own.
For all our satellites, artificial intelligence (AI), algorithmic trading and climate dashboards, civilisation still depends on whether rain arrives at the right place, at the right time, and in the right amount.
Agriculture remains an act of faith dressed in modern equipment.
For the world, El Nino is a climate phenomenon. For farmers, it is a character test.
Oil palm’s love affair with rain
For oil palm, the relationship with rain is especially intimate.
Oil palm and rainfall have enjoyed one of agriculture’s longest-running love stories. Like many love stories, it works beautifully when both parties cooperate – and becomes complicated when one disappears without notice.
Oil palms are thirsty creatures.
A mature palm may consume up to 400 litres of water a day. When rain arrives, the estate hums like a rehearsed orchestra.
Fronds stay healthy, bunches form, harvesters stay busy and millers smile.
Then, El Nino enters the theatre. The orchestra misses a beat. The rhythm changes. The music becomes uncomfortable.
One of the most misunderstood aspects of oil palm is that it has a long memory. Many assume drought affects production immediately. That is only partly true.
Oil palm is not impulsive. It is reflective, it takes notes.
A drought today may reveal itself in next year’s yield and even later. Biological decisions determining future production are made months, even years, before a fruit bunch reaches the harvesting path. That is what makes El Nino so frustrating.
The weather event arrives. It departs. The consequences remain like unpaid bills. By the time yield loss becomes visible, the sky may be blue, the rain returned and the headlines moved on. But the palms remember. In plantations, memory is never sentimental. It is measurable.
A botanical opera, interrupted
Before drought interferes, the oil palm stages one of nature’s most under-appreciated operas.
Male and female flowers emerge in sequence. Tiny Elaeidobius pollinating weevils move diligently between inflorescences, carrying pollen and possibility. It is a tropical romance conducted mostly without applause.
When rainfall is adequate, the cast knows its lines, the orchestra follows the score, and the audience receives its happy ending. Then drought arrives.
The script changes.
Under stress, palms increasingly favour male flowers. Female flowers – which, after pollination, develop into fruit bunches – become less abundant.
Some fail to form properly, while others abort before maturity. As a result, future yields begin declining long before the effects become visible in the field.
It resembles a stage production where the leading actresses fail to appear, leaving the understudies trying bravely to save the show.
This delayed response creates one industry reality: many industries suffer immediately; palm oil often suffers later.
A prolonged El Nino drought in 2026 may well shape yields in 2027, with its lagged effects still echoing into 2028.
By then, the weather event may have retired from the headlines, but its production impact could still be reporting for duty – in crop figures, balance sheets and market prices.
This is why analysts watch El Nino so closely. They are trying to glimpse future harvests hidden inside today’s climate signals. In oil palm, every weather forecast is also a production forecast wearing a raincoat.
When the world adds more ‘ifs’
If climate were the only variable, life would already be challenging enough. Unfortunately, the world enjoys adding extra chapters.
Geopolitical tensions can influence energy markets. Crude oil prices can affect biodiesel economics.
Indonesia’s biodiesel and canalisation export gate ambitions can tighten demand. Shipping disruptions can alter freight costs. Fertiliser prices can respond to energy and supply-chain pressures. Global growth can soften or strengthen consumption.
Suddenly the oil palm sector finds itself inside a giant crossword puzzle where every answer affects another answer.
The result is a shifting equation, and experienced planters know better than to celebrate too early. High prices and high profits are not always twins; sometimes they are distant cousins.
If El Nino tightens the rainfall tap, yields may stumble. If yields stumble, prices may climb. If prices climb, demand may adjust.
If crude oil rises, biodiesel economics may improve. If energy stays expensive, fertiliser may bite.
And if fertiliser bites while yields wobble, margins may run away like a shy animal — visible from afar, but difficult to capture.
That is the great game of “ifs”.
Preparedness Is Not Panic
So what should the industry and the world do now that El Niño is no longer a forecast but a confirmed visitor?
One would hope that some preparedness had already been laid out with foresight since the warnings began late last year, and with lessons properly drawn from past El Niño episodes. Panic is useless. Denial is worse. Preparedness is the sensible middle path: less dramatic than alarm, but far wiser than sleepwalking.
For estates, this means treating El Niño as both an agronomic and business risk: watching rainfall data, conserving soil moisture, maintaining field access, protecting water bodies, strengthening fire patrols, managing fertiliser prudently and monitoring vulnerable fields, especially on peat, sandy soils, steep terrain or areas with past moisture stress. Drains, roads and harvesting logistics must also stay functional, because under climate stress, small weaknesses quickly grow fangs.
For mills, water management becomes critical. A mill without adequate water is like a singer without breath - the song may still be written, but the performance suffers. Water ponds, intake points, processing discipline and contingency arrangements should have been reviewed before the dry spell deepens, not when the boiler is already coughing.
For companies, El Niño is not merely agronomic. It is financial, operational and reputational. Production forecasts, cash flow, fertiliser timing, labour deployment, logistics and hedging strategies must speak to one another. In difficult seasons, departments cannot behave like distant relatives meeting only at weddings.
For governments, the issue is bigger still. Food security, water security, energy resilience, inflation, rural livelihoods and farmer support are not separate subjects during climate stress. They become one family argument. Strategic food stocks, irrigation readiness, reservoir monitoring, power planning, fire prevention, import flexibility and clear communication all matter.
Preparedness also requires early-warning systems that actually become early action. Satellites, weather models, rainfall gauges and crop data must move quickly from scientific reports into practical decisions. A forecast left unread is expensive wallpaper. Information must become action.
We cannot stop El Niño from being here. But we can still decide whether he finds us asleep, arguing, or ready - with boots on, tanks filled, data watched, firefighting-ready and plans already moving.
Technology Helps, But Rain Still Matters
Today, we speak confidently of drones, sensors, satellites, artificial intelligence and predictive analytics. All are useful. But El Niño reminds us that technology improves preparedness; it does not abolish dependence on nature.
A satellite can warn that the sky is changing. It cannot make rain fall. A model can predict stress. It cannot persuade an oil palm tree to ignore drought. Artificial intelligence can process data faster than any estate manager, but it still cannot negotiate with the Pacific Ocean.
That may be the lesson. The world often believes it controls more than it does. Then a patch of warm ocean appears, and suddenly harvests, food prices, energy costs and economic forecasts begin changing.
This is not an argument against technology, but for humility. The plantation of the future must combine digital intelligence with field wisdom - the kind that notices a wilting spear, a drying drain and a sky that looks too confident.
Agriculture has always been built on disciplined optimism. You plant before you harvest, invest before you earn, and trust before you know. Resilience remains agriculture’s quiet superpower.
But resilience is not passivity. Hope is not a plan unless it comes with preparation.
When Young Eyes Watch the Next Harvest
This updated reflection took shape after I was recently engaged by CIMB Securities for its Expert Engagement 2026 series to speak on palm oil. My presentation, “Palm Oil 2026: Heat, Hunger, Energy and the Next Harvest,” led me back to El Niño under the theme of heat - because dry weather can leave yield fingerprints long after the sun behaves.
What encouraged me most was the room itself: young analysts and fund managers, alert, curious and asking sharp questions. It gave me hope that the next generation may understand the palm oil story with greater depth.
My broad outlook was simple: palm oil may remain supported not by one miracle factor, but by a convergence of pressures now moving in the same direction. Supply is no longer expanding easily, while demand is pulled by food, biodiesel, emerging markets and geopolitics. On the supply side, fertiliser strain, labour shortages, ageing palms and delayed replanting can tighten availability further.
Now, with NOAA confirming that El Niño is here, its manifestation must be watched closely - especially the lagged yield effects. The market may stay firm, but not effortlessly.
Because in oil palm, high prices are useful only when there is crop to sell. Biology, weather and discipline may still write the final script.
Price makes the headline. Margin writes the verdict.
