Producers across Crete are entering the new olive oil season with the enthusiasm of someone opening a bank statement after the holidays. Expectations are low. Prices are uncertain. The combination of drought, pests, and chronic structural problems has pushed the island’s most iconic product to its limits.
For the average Cretan farmer, this year’s outlook is a mix of resignation and controlled rage. The production drop is not merely a bad season; it is a significant decline. It is a trend, a warning sign, and, if one listens carefully, the sound of an entire primary sector grinding its teeth.
A Bad Year in a Long List of Bad Years
National forecasts suggest that Greece might not reach 200,000 tons of olive oil for the 2026–2027 season. To understand how alarming that is, last year’s production hovered between 230,000 and 250,000 tons — and that was already considered disappointing.
But Crete, as always, plays in its own league. In some areas, output is expected to decline by 50 percent, which is the optimistic scenario.
The culprits are familiar:
- Drought that never ended,
- Trees dehydrated to the point of surrender,
- The infamous olive fruit fly (δάκος), which this year behaved like it had personal revenge to settle.
The result is a harvest that many producers describe as “the year we would rather forget, but cannot afford to.”
Economics of Disaster: When the Island Bleeds, Greece Bleeds
Producers warn that the financial impact will be felt far beyond olive mills. Crete’s olive oil industry is a cornerstone of the local economy. When production collapses, exports shrink, incomes evaporate, and subsidies disappear.
Several farmers report subsidy losses approaching 80 percent, primarily due to yield-based calculations that punish anyone unlucky enough to live under a climate crisis.
Meanwhile, operational costs — labor, fuel, machinery — continue to rise, because even during bad years, no tractor has ever agreed to run on “positive thoughts.”
Hiletzakis: “We Do Not Control Olive Oil Prices — Others Do”
Myron Hiletzakis, president of the National Union of Agricultural Cooperatives, lays it out with unembellished realism.
Yes, a few sales have been made — but only in early-harvest olive oil (αγουρέλαιο). For conventional oil, prices are still appearing “slowly, carefully, and with no desire to commit to anything.”
According to him, average producer prices will probably land around 5 euros per kilo — but even that depends on Italy and Spain, not Greece. Greece continues to export in bulk, by tanker, essentially gift-wrapped for foreign bottlers who capture all the added value.
Spain, with its dense, industrialised groves and sophisticated technology, produces in a week what Greece produces in an entire year.
It is not a fair fight. And it is not getting fairer.
Hiletzakis identifies the three chronic wounds of Greek olive oil:
- Climate crisis — a polite phrase for “the weather has gone completely feral.”
- Lack of domestic bottling — Greece sells liquid gold as if it were tap water.
- High labor costs — when daily wages hit 60–70 euros, cost and yield no longer align.
The result is predictable: shrinking volumes, shrinking margins, shrinking optimism.
Crete May Produce Less Than 60,000 Tons — Or Much Less
Some producers whisper numbers far lower, especially in the Heraklion–Lasithi spectrum. Hiletzakis notes that if Crete even approaches 60,000 tons, it will be considered a “small miracle.” Anything under that becomes a case study for agricultural collapse.
He also points to a staggering figure:
Crete’s commercial balance sheet for olive oil is missing 650 million euros when comparing the last decade to the decade before.
When olive oil suffers, the island’s economy does not limp — it buckles.
Gavalas: “Dakos Control Failed Us — Again”
Stavros Gavalas, president of the Heraklion Union of Agricultural Cooperatives, takes the conversation in a direction many avoid: the failure of the region’s pest-control programme.
When spraying is late, incomplete, or inconsistent, dako populations explode. And this year, they did exactly that.
Drought + dehydrated trees + uncontrolled pest pressure = oil with higher acidity, lower quality, and even lower quantity.
He refuses to give production predictions (“I will not tempt fate”), but suggests the island may land anywhere between 20,000 and 50,000 tons — a range so wide it sounds more like an archaeological dating method than agricultural forecasting.
His proposed solutions are rooted in real-world urgency:
- Water infrastructure, now, not “someday in the next plan.”
- Reservoirs and modern irrigation, before the next drought season arrives.
- Timely, properly executed pest control, not last-minute heroics.
Meanwhile, in the Supermarket: Prices Fall, But Do Not Celebrate
On shelves, extra-virgin olive oil now costs around 9 to 11 euros per liter, down from the dramatic 13.5–14 euros of 2024. Promotions push some brands as low as 6.8 to 9 euros.
Consumers may feel relief. Producers certainly do not.
Manolis Giannoulis of the National Interprofessional Organization of Olive Oil describes the current moment as “a level of prices where both sides can be cautiously content.” Translation: consumers can buy it without fainting, and producers can survive — just barely.
But this stability has nothing to do with Greece. The balance is supported by:
- Good yields in other Mediterranean countries, and
- Massive production boosts from Tunisia and Turkey, which are reshaping the regional market.
And then there is Spain again:
Fresh Spanish extra virgin is heading straight for 5 euros per kilo, while Greek virgin oil floats at 3.5 to 3.6 euros. Last year’s numbers were even worse.
At least we have upgraded from “catastrophic” to “marginally less catastrophic.”
The Hard Truth
Crete’s olive oil sector is approaching a structural turning point. Climate change, water scarcity, pest management issues, inadequate bottling capacity, and global competition form a perfect storm.
The island that introduced half the world to proper olive oil now finds itself fighting to keep its own production viable.
And unless Greece finally invests in modernising irrigation, enforcing timely pest control, and — above all — bottling its own product instead of exporting it in tanks, the cycle will repeat. Again. And again. And again.
Because olive oil does not simply grow on trees anymore.
It grows on planning, infrastructure, and political will.
And Greece is long overdue for all three.
