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The annual witch-hunt of farm stubble burning masks the real policy culprits

Industry and vehicles fuel the crisis year-round, yet agriculture carries the blame

Gurpreet Singh, Nivedita Sharma

  • North India’s winter smog returns annually, yet long-term air pollution policy remains absent.

  • Agriculture is blamed disproportionately despite industry and transport driving year-round emissions.

  • Stubble burning stems from structural policy failures, not farmer negligence.

  • Tight paddy–wheat cycles and unviable alternatives leave farmers with few options.

  • Lasting solutions require crop diversification, institutional support and systemic reform.

Every year, as winter approaches, North India becomes a gas chamber, prompting a public health emergency — albeit only for a brief period. But as soon as the wind shifts and the dense smog recedes, so does the urgency of addressing the issue. Despite this recurring crisis, India has not evolved a coherent long-term policy to tackle air pollution. 

According to the Indian Institute of Tropical Meteorology’s (IITM) Decision Support System, on November 15 the region adjoining Delhi contributed nearly 20 per cent to the city’s pollution. Air Quality Index (AQI) data, constituting a daily average over 24 hours on November 18 provided by the Central Pollution Control Board, show lower air pollution in cities in Punjab and then Haryana, most of which are located around paddy-growing areas, compared with the National Capital Region (NCR). 

Yet, in the public conversation, agriculture has disproportionately come to bear the blame. Farmers are routinely portrayed as the principal culprits, even though ample scientific evidence shows that pollution in Delhi-NCR is primarily driven by emissions from industry and vehicles, both of which operate at massive scale throughout the year. 

Agricultural burning, by contrast, is seasonal and episodic. Its smoke becomes hyper-visible only because it coincides with winter’s meteorological inversion, when wind speeds drop and pollutants remain trapped close to the ground. As a result, farm stubble burning becomes the face of the crisis, even when it is far from its primary cause.

This skewed narrative dilutes attention from the structural failures in urban governance, industrial regulation and transport policy that consistently degrade air quality. The intention here is not to absolve any sector, industry, construction, transport, or agriculture, of responsibility, but to highlight a deeper and long-ignored structural problem: The origins of crop residue burning and the policy ecosystem that produces it. Without understanding this foundation, any set of “quick fixes” will continue to treat only the symptoms, leaving the root causes untouched.

The focus of this article is to amplify a deeper and long-ignored structural problem: the origin of stubble burning and the policy framework that contributes to it. If the foundation is not understood, then every “quick fix” will address only the symptoms while the root causes remain untouched. The genesis of stubble burning lies in the policy approach towards the agricultural production system since the Green Revolution.

The policy ecosystem aggressively supported the cultivation of the paddy-wheat cycle in Punjab and Haryana — regions that were never ideally suited for such water-intensive cropping. Farmers’ hard work had a major role in shifting the country’s focus from food scarcity to producing more than enough.

However, this transformation came with severe costs to the agricultural ecosystem, such as deteriorating soil and depletion of groundwater levels, among others. What began as an emergency measure to feed a famished nation has now turned into an ecological burden that has also become an economic and social crisis in recent decades.

Stubble burning is not essentially a cultural practice or an act of negligence by farmers. It is a result of structural compulsion brought about by policy constraints. Paddy, the principal crop grown in Punjab and Haryana, requires a great deal of water and thus depends heavily on groundwater. To prevent aquifers from falling further, policies encouraged delaying paddy transplantation until the end of June so that irrigation would coincide with the monsoon. 

Although the results of this policy cannot be fully ascertained, it delays the harvest until late October and early November — dangerously close to the time for preparing fields for the next crop, wheat. Wheat is highly sensitive to temperature, and sowing must not go beyond mid-November; otherwise yields suffer significantly. This very tight turnaround within the paddy-wheat cycle is what leads to the burning of stubble.

Due to the lack of time and affordable options, burning becomes the method farmers consider the easiest way to clear fields, even when the stubble is moist. This is a clear instance of a water-saving policy that intended to do good but inadvertently worsened air quality. The problem is reinforced by the fact that many prescribed technological solutions — such as Happy Seeder machines, mulching equipment and balers — remain financially unviable for a majority of farmers. 

These methods require expensive equipment, high-powered tractors and considerable operational costs, while crop yields remain uncertain under new methods of wheat sowing. Research by agricultural universities has confirmed that farmers still practise burning because they cannot see any economically viable options within the short time available for cropping. Any policy solution must recognise these limitations instead of merely blaming farmers.

A petition filed by an non-governmental organisation before the National Green Tribunal revealed that stubble burning was once included in the methods recommended by Punjab Agricultural University in 2012. The manual supposedly advised burning paddy straw as a measure for controlling diseases such as sheath rot, stem rot and sheath blight.

Importantly, this recommendation appears to have been based on a specific situation, not a general policy — meant for disease-ridden fields rather than overall farm practices. Still, even this limited institutional support shows how burning had become acceptable in certain scientific and extension circles long before the public-health crisis emerged.

As a short-term solution, the cost of managing post-harvest residues must be fully internalised in the total cost of cultivating paddy, which should be reflected in minimum support price calculations. Further, to implement eco-friendly post-harvest techniques at scale, operational support and timely response from agricultural institutions must be ensured at farm level. But the long-term solution requires a systematic policy shift away from paddy towards crops that are ecologically sustainable for Punjab and Haryana. 

There have been many efforts to promote horticultural crops such as kinnow as an alternative to the paddy-wheat monoculture, along with other citrus fruits in various parts of Punjab. Kinnow, considered well-suited to South Punjab, often faces challenges such as adverse marketing conditions and low shelf life. In fact, in recent years many farmers have shifted back to stable and secure paddy owing to poor farm-gate prices. 

This demonstrates that crop diversification cannot succeed on farmers’ initiative alone. It requires assured procurement of alternative crops, investment in storage and processing infrastructure, and institutional coordination across authorities and ministries. Unless diversification efforts are reinforced through favourable market conditions and institutional support, farmers cannot be expected to shoulder the risks alone.

In sum, India must not regard pollution as a behaviour that appears and disappears with the seasons. The yearly smog is a crisis created by poor policies that have failed across sectors — urban, industrial and agricultural. While stubble burning remains a visible trigger during winter, it is only a symptom of a larger structural malaise. Unless the root causes are addressed, the ghost of air pollution will continue to haunt both our skies and our collective conscience.

Gurpreet Singh is associate professor, Jindal School of Government and Public Policy, OP Jindal Global University; and Nivedita Sharma is associate professor, Jindal Global Business School, OP Jindal Global University. Views expressed are the author’s own and don’t necessarily reflect those of Down To Earth