The author once believed that ethanol could become the defining direction of his professional life. He accepted the position of managing director at a sugar mill company in Andhra Pradesh. He set a personal condition for himself: he would dedicate two years to the industry. If he concluded that ethanol represented one of India's most promising industrial opportunities, he would stay and build a career around this sector; otherwise, he would move to the same group's Foundation.
This plan seemed sensible because the industry had no say in the matter. However, after two years, he decided to leave. The reason was not a lack of prospects for ethanol, but the conviction that India was trying to solve one problem while creating another. After nearly two decades, this conclusion seems even more justified.
It is worth noting the achievements of the ethanol program in India. Since India imports over 85 percent of its crude oil, every liter of domestic ethanol blended with gasoline reduces this dependence, strengthens energy security, saves foreign currency, and provides a more stable market for millions of sugarcane farmers. Furthermore, it alleviates the situation of the sugar industry by redirecting surplus sugar into fuel when sugar itself becomes less profitable.
Brazil has long demonstrated the viability of this model. Flexible-fuel vehicles regularly switch between gasoline and ethanol, and sugar mills change production between sugar and fuel depending on market prices. The country has created one of the world's most successful biofuel ecosystems. But Brazil's success is based on much more than just culture or policy; it reflects a combination of favorable climate, efficient logistics, large-scale processing, compatible automotive technology, and decades of institutional experience. In Brazil, ethanol is not just an agricultural product; it is an entire ecosystem.
Of course, policymakers in India ask the obvious question: if Brazil can do it, why can't we? This is an attractive question, but the answer is uncomfortable. Although Brazil and India can grow sugarcane, they do so under very different environmental conditions.
When the author began studying the Brazilian model twenty years ago, and even now, one fact remains dominant. Brazil's great sugarcane belt features abundant rainfall, and most of the harvest is grown through rain-fed irrigation. Water, although never free, is not the determining constraint.
The situation in India is fundamentally different. Sugarcane occupies only 3–4 percent of the country's cultivated land but consumes about 12–15 percent of irrigation water. A significant portion of this is grown in states already struggling with groundwater depletion and recurring droughts. Maharashtra and parts of Karnataka are clear examples. Every additional hectare of sugarcane competes for an increasingly scarce resource.
Here, the economics of energy intersect with water ecology. Energy policy cannot be judged solely by saved oil but also by the consumption of scarce resources. Replacing imported oil with domestic water is not necessarily a national gain.
A broader question concerns the social balance of costs and benefits. Ethanol undoubtedly brings important public goods: it reduces crude oil imports, enhances energy security, supports farmer incomes, stabilizes the sugar industry, and lowers transport emissions. However, these advantages must be weighed against the costs that markets rarely fully account for: groundwater depletion, subsidized irrigation, electricity for water pumping, environmental degradation, and opportunity costs from diverting scarce water from food production or urban use. Thus, the positive net social effect of ethanol depends not only on the price of crude oil but also on the ecological value of the water it consumes. The answer will likely not be the same across all of India, and in some regions, it may cease to be positive after accounting for all social costs.
Proponents of ethanol rightly point out that most early ethanol in India was produced from molasses—a byproduct of sugar production. If a byproduct can replace imported fuel, few will complain. But this does not last long. Increasingly, fresh sugarcane juice and high-B molasses are directed toward ethanol production. The crop is no longer producing sugar with ethanol as a useful byproduct; a growing share is grown primarily for fuel.
There is nothing inherently wrong with this, provided it is justified by resource economics. This condition is crucial. Debates often assume that higher agricultural productivity automatically justifies increased production. Nevertheless, sugarcane yield per hectare in India is already largely comparable to Brazil's figures. Despite significantly smaller and more fragmented land parcels, Indian farmers have achieved biological productivity comparable to leading global producers.
Brazil's advantage lies elsewhere. Its cane contains more recoverable sugar. Harvesting is highly mechanized, logistics are more efficient, and factories operate on scales rarely seen in India. These advantages allow Brazil to convert every ton of cane into sugar and ethanol at a substantially lower cost. The difference lies not so much in growing the crop, but in what happens after it leaves the field.
The economy does not end at the farm gate or the refinery. Higher ethanol blends require adjustments across the entire automotive ecosystem. Manufacturers must redesign engines and fuel system components, while owners of older vehicles may face higher maintenance or reduced efficiency during the transition. These costs are not insurmountable or constant, but they must be considered in any serious analysis of ethanol economics.
None of the above is an argument against ethanol. It is an argument against viewing geography as an inconvenience. Government policy tends to replicate successful international models while ignoring the environmental conditions that made them successful. We import visible results while ignoring the invisible foundations.
The question for India is not whether ethanol is good or bad, but what kind of ethanol it is, where it is produced, and from what raw material. Sugarcane ethanol may make a lot of sense in regions blessed with reliable rainfall and sustainable water resources. It is much harder to justify where groundwater levels continue to fall.
Fortunately, ethanol does not have to depend solely on sugarcane. Corn is beginning to emerge as an important feedstock. Second-generation ethanol from agricultural waste offers another promising path, turning what is currently burned in fields into industrial raw material. Municipal organic waste may eventually join this mix as technology improves. India's long-term strategy must become increasingly diversified, rather than increasingly dependent on one water-intensive crop.
Diversification is not just ecologically desirable; it is sound risk management. Dependence on a single type of raw material makes countries vulnerable to climate shocks, rainfall fluctuations, and commodity cycles.
India has the opportunity to build something more resilient. Its ethanol program has already shown that ambitious government policy can transform markets. The next stage is the transformation of the raw material itself. Incentives should encourage crops and technologies that produce more fuel with less water consumption, instead of treating every liter of ethanol as equally desirable regardless of how it is produced.
Looking back, the author remains convinced that ethanol deserves an important place in India's energy future. But water deserves an even more important place in its future. That is why, after two years working in the sugar industry, he decided not to dedicate the next phase of his career to ethanol. He left with the conviction that ethanol was not lacking in prospects, but that India's comparative advantage lies beyond sugarcane.
Oil can be imported. Water cannot. Energy security is necessary. Water security is existential. A wise nation should never secure the former at the expense of the latter.
A small vessel caught fire in the waters between France and Britain this morning, forcing its passengers to jump into the water. The management of the Pas-de-Calais department (northern France) reported the incident, clarifying that there are currently no reports of casualties.
This case has become one of the largest maritime rescue operations since the start of crossings of the English Channel in makeshift boats in 2018. In recent days, the number of people rescued or aboard small vessels under the protection of authorities on both sides of the English Channel has significantly increased.
Last Wednesday, British teams recorded the arrival of 752 irregular migrants across the English Channel in small boats. This was a record number for a single day since the beginning of this year, according to a statement from the UK Home Office. The previous daily record this year was 710 arrivals, recorded on June 15, and the historical maximum is 1305 entries into the UK in one day, noted in early September 2022.
The rise in crossings across the English Channel, which connects northern France with Great Britain, coincides with several tragic incidents, including the death of four migrants during rescue operations off the French coast. The total number of migrants who have crossed the English Channel this year in small and unreliable boats exceeds 13,300 people, although this figure shows a decrease of approximately 45% compared to the same period in 2025.
The recent increase in crossings and smugglers' tactics, which involve sending a large number of boats along the French coast—described as a 'full assault' to overload surveillance—are happening parallel to strong bilateral cooperation. Smuggling networks have begun placing increasingly overcrowded boats with people at sea; last week, 152 people were registered on one inflatable boat.
The UK and France have an agreement on mutual repatriation of migrants ('one for one'), valid until October. It stipulates that undocumented migrants crossing the English Channel from the French coast are returned to France provided that the UK accepts another refugee or asylum seeker from France through legal routes.
The goal of this agreement, adopted last year by then-UK Prime Minister Keir Starmer and French President Emmanuel Macron, is to combat human trafficking networks. This is intended to show migrants that illegal crossing will lead to their immediate return to France, and that there are legal and safe ways to enter the UK.
Most migrants crossing the English Channel in small boats originate from countries affected by armed conflicts or authoritarian regimes, such as Eritrea, Afghanistan, Sudan, Iran, or Somalia. Control over illegal immigration remains one of the most sensitive and debated topics in British politics.
The UK government, led by Labour, emphasizes the decrease in the total number of arrivals in 2026, but opposition parties and right-wing critics argue that the reduction is insufficient, pointing out that smugglers have merely changed tactics, now using larger vessels.
