In Alishan, adapting tea cultivation to drought comes at a cost

In Alishan, mulching, alfalfa and growing tea under trees are different responses to water stress. These practices focus on protecting the soil, but involve an economic trade-off: how can growers make a living from smaller harvests?

In Alishan, in the mountains of central Taiwan, some tea growers are responding to drought by changing the soil around the plant rather than the plant itself. But adaptation comes at a price: so-called natural methods may preserve tea plants without guaranteeing a plentiful harvest or sufficient income.

In a report published on 26 October and republished by Mongabay on 12 November 2026, the outlet describes two distinct approaches. Lin Kuang-li maintains a managed crop, supporting it with cover plants and pruning residues. In Taihe, Chang Chih-tsung and Yeh Hsin-wen let their tea plants grow beneath trees with very little intervention. Both practices alter the relationships between soil, water and plants, but they are neither identical nor a universal recipe.

The difficulties are not limited to a lack of rain. Researchers interviewed by Mongabay also point to the dwindling mist that filters the sun and helps keep leaves moist, as well as intense rainfall that can damage plantations. Geographer Huang Cho-ying reports two or three spring droughts in five years, during a period when tea plants need water. This regional picture explains the search for ways to adapt; it does not quantify the share of each harvest loss attributable to climate change.

Covering the soil without abandoning cultivation

Lin, an oolong tea grower in Longyanlin, stopped using pesticides about thirty years ago, according to the report. He grows alfalfa between the tea plants and leaves pruned branches on the ground. He still has an old irrigation system, but says he rarely uses it. He says his soil absorbs and drains water better. This is the grower’s observation, not the result of a trial comparing his plot with others.

The pruned branches form mulch: a layer of dead plant material covering the surface. The FAO explains that this kind of cover can slow the evaporation of soil moisture and help rainwater infiltrate. It also protects the earth from the impact of raindrops, keeps it in the shade and adds organic matter as it decomposes.

Alfalfa plays a different role. Grown as a green manure, it can contribute to soil fertility; it is not the same thing as dead mulch. The FAO distinguishes this living plant cover from residues left on the surface. However, a cover plant can compete with the main crop for water or nutrients if its growth is not controlled. Its presence therefore requires management suited to the location and the agricultural calendar.

Beneath the trees, a different way of producing

In Taihe, Chang and Yeh have developed a form of cultivation called yefang on a small forest plot, translated in the report as “wild cultivation”. The couple settled in the region in 2010 and devoted the following decade to this Jin Xuan tea plantation. The tea plants grow beneath a forest canopy. The growers say they do not prune or water them, or apply any inputs.

This practice differs from Lin’s system: he prunes his tea plants and maintains ground cover, whereas Chang and Yeh limit interventions further. Their plot is therefore an example of cultivation beneath a canopy, not simply a thicker version of mulching. Both approaches seek to work with natural processes, but they do not rely on the same methods.

During the spring drought mentioned in the report, Chang and Yeh say their plants survived, but produced no new shoots. This distinction matters in understanding the outcome: surviving a dry spell is not the same as producing a marketable harvest.

Falling production puts pressure on the model

The regional context is already difficult for growers. According to figures cited by Mongabay, tea production in Alishan fell by 13.5% between 2014 and 2023. This decline relates to local production over that period: it does not describe the yield per hectare on each farm and does not make it possible to attribute a precise share of the fall to an agricultural practice or a single climate factor.

The natural methods described also involve accepting lower production, according to the researchers and growers interviewed by Mongabay. Chang and Yeh’s plantation produces between 24 and 36 kilograms of tea a year, according to the report. This figure relates to their farm and should not be confused with a regional average. Chang also works as a photographer, painter and documentary filmmaker. Lin, meanwhile, runs a guesthouse to supplement his agricultural income.

Farming that is less dependent on inputs is therefore not simply a matter of choosing to remove chemicals. The report says Lin found the first three years after stopping the use of chemical fertilisers and pesticides difficult, particularly because of insects. Growers also need to be able to weather years with poor harvests and have other sources of income or outlets for their produce. The available information does not allow a comparison of costs, sale prices and net incomes across the different farms; it does, however, show that the survival of the plants alone is not enough to establish the economic viability of a model.

The value of these examples lies in the practical trade-off they illustrate. Ground cover, trees above the tea plants or less systematic irrigation can change how a plot gets through dry spells. But harvests may still be limited, and the transition takes time as well as an economic structure capable of compensating for lower volumes. In Alishan, adaptation depends as much on agronomic practices as on whether growers can make a living from what they harvest.