IN a world ruled by Instagram reels, YouTube shorts and ChatGPT prompts, attention spans are now officially shorter than a pollen lifespan.
If oil palm wants to connect with the TikTok generation, it needs more than data – it needs drama, humour and a hype squad worthy of Korean pop.
Palm oil needs science communicators who can explain its intricacies without sounding like a lab manual; content creators who can turn a fresh fruit bunch (FFB) into viral moments; chefs who can fry chicken and address misconceptions; and yes, maybe even stand-up comedians who can make Ganoderma disease sound punchline-worthy.
The tragedy isn’t that people misunderstand palm oil – it’s that they’ve never been told the full story in a way their hearts and brains can appreciate.
They’ve heard the controversy, but not the chemistry; the headlines, but not the science.
What this industry needs are palm oil edutainers – storytellers who can turn complex science into curiosity, wonder and the occasional “Wah, I didn’t know that!”
Because with better storytelling, the narrative can shift: from “problem crop” to “climate-smart, nutritionally rich, historically rich tropical marvel”.
It’s not just a commodity – it’s a love story, a science story, a human story.
If we want the world to understand palm oil better, we must explain it better – louder, simpler, smarter and with a lot more heart and with a little more TikTok energy.
Oil palm’s Romeo and Juliet version
Let’s decode the love life of the oil palm – a botanical version of Romeo and Juliet, minus the tragedy, lot more pollen plus a whole lot of fruit bunches.
Let’s be honest: most people think plant reproduction is boring and only as exciting as watching fertiliser dry.
But the oil palm?
This one has a love life hotter than a midday estate audit.
Welcome to the enchanting world of oil palms, a tropical stage where flowers flirt in the breeze, pollen hosts its daily carnival and FFB arrive as the love children of a beautifully orchestrated union.
In this lush, Oscar-worthy production, every bloom, pollinator and FFB plays its part in a timeless tale of survival, adaptation and extraordinary productivity.
If Netflix ever runs out of love stories, the oil palm is ready for prime time.
My fascination started back in university where I discovered botany. And somehow that led me to a career in oil palm breeding – proof that love works in mysterious and photosynthetic ways.
During IJM Corp Bhd
’s “Walk With CEO” familiarisation programme, I used to explain this whole love saga from seed to oil. No jargon, no scientific mambo–jumbo–just a good, old-fashioned plantation love story. And it always worked.
As the Malay saying goes, tak kenal maka tak cinta. If you don’t understand it, you can’t love it.
Act 1: Flowers in full flirt mode
Oil palms are monoecious – meaning they house both male and female flowers on the same tree. Very modern. Very progressive. Each leaf bears an inflorescence, a kind of floral cabaret.
Male flowers spray golden pollen like confetti; female flowers sit pretty, waiting for Mr Right Pollen to show up.
Act 2: Nature’s dance
But here’s where it gets truly fascinating: oil palm flowers don’t just smell good – they play the game with a touch of elegant deception.
The male flowers, bursting with real pollen, tempt weevil insects with a heady mix of scents, nectar and free lodging.
The females? They offer none of that, yet they release the exact same seductive perfume. A classic botanical bait-and-switch, tricking the weevils into visiting them and delivering pollen – without giving anything back.
Nature’s own Scrooge McFlower. While the weevils may think they’re getting the better deal, it’s the oil palm that emerges victorious, setting the stage for the next act: fruit formation.
Act 3: Enter the real heroes – the weevils
In the late 1970s, Malaysian oil palms had a romance problem: plenty of flowers, not enough pollinators. The palms were basically waiting for a date who never showed up.
Enter Elaeidobius kamerunicus – a tiny African weevil destined to become the industry’s ultimate matchmaker.
Thanks to the late Datuk Rahman Anwar Syed and Leslie Davidson, this little hero was discovered in Cameroon, flown to Kuala Lumpur in 1979 under stricter quarantine than immigration, and released in Pamol Kluang and Sabah by 1980.
Then the weevils got straight to work, zipping between flowers like pollen-charged couriers on a mission.
Relentless, hardy, and practically dipped in pollen, they turned the palm’s love life around. Fruit yields soared, extraction rates improved, and the once-laborious hand-pollination by our legendary “pollen puffer ladies” quietly bowed out.
One tiny weevil, one giant leap for Malaysia’s oil palm romance.
Estragole: The oil palm’s Chanel No 5
In the steamy world of oil palm romance, a chemical named estragole is the superstar fragrance.
Male flowers release this anise-scented Chanel No 5 and Elaeidobius kamerunicus comes swooping in like tiny perfume critics.
To the weevils, it’s not just a smell – it’s an invitation to feast, flirt and ferry pollen.
Without this seductive whiff, pollination would tank and the oil palm would lose its sweetest little secret weapon.
Timing: The whole game
Pollen lives less than 24 hours – shorter than a weekend sale. Female flowers have an equally tiny “I’m ready!” window.
When timing aligns, yields can jump by 50%.
Miss it, and it’s a botanical ghosting.
Once pollinated, the flowers retire and the fruits get to work.
Around Day 150, the first ripe fruit drops – nature’s version of a ringing alarm clock: “Oi, harvest lah!” Kernels mature earlier, around Day 120, forming the precious next generation.
Here’s a quirky one: bunches ripen near the 30th leaf, while their pollination happened near the 17th.
A long-distance relationship planned months ahead.
Here’s a fun twist: oil palm fronds spiral left or right, depending on the tree’s genetical-mood, personality, or maybe its favourite political leaning.
Which direction gives better fruit?
Science says: neither. Equal yields. Mystery over. Romance intact.
Botany can be dramatic, but not that dramatic.
Stress: The relationship wrecker
Young palms (below 10) are energetic teenagers – fruiting like there’s no tomorrow, then collapsing for recovery.
Older palms become wise, steady aunties and uncles – fewer but heavier FFB, predictable and reliable. Together they perform a non-stop botanical orchestra.
But even the best love stories wobble.
When the El Niño drought hits, rain disappears, or the heat turns brutal, oil palms transform into full-blown drama queensflowering goes rogue, fruit sets crash and planters sigh into the sunset.
Throw in nasty bouts of Ganoderma disease, over-pruning and the oil palm simply sulks.
Its response? Produce more male flowers and fewer female ones – the botanical equivalent of saying, “Not today, okay?” Yields dip, and planters-owners instinctively reach for Panadol.
When weevils are in short supply, palms produce “parthenocarpic” fruits – pretty but pointless fruitlets with empty kernels.
White, oily and useless. Mills cry. Planters sigh.
A love life that feeds the world
So yes – behind every humble bottle of cooking oil is a tree with an epic love life: scented seduction, flirtatious weevils, perfect timing, occasional drama and a work ethic that never takes a holiday.
The oil palm doesn’t just reproduce – it romances, strategises, adapts and quietly sustains millions.
The next time you catch that faint anise scent or hear a weevil buzzing past your ear, remember: you’re eavesdropping on one of nature’s greatest love stories – a tropical romance of a tree that feeds households and fuels economies.
The moral of the story? The oil palm’s love life is not just science; it’s a tropical masterclass in timing, teamwork, and chemistry worthy of a Netflix special.
Misunderstood, occasionally dragged into controversies, but irresistibly fascinating.
Effective and creative communication is needed.
Tell the story right and who knows – we might just grow a new generation of palm-oil romantics.
Because behind every bottle of cooking oil is a tree living a romance far juicier than any Korean drama – and with much better plot twists.
Joseph Tek Choon Yee has over 30 years experience in the plantation industry, with a strong background in oil palm research and development, C-suite leadership and industry advocacy. The views expressed here are the writer’s own.
