Crops made, and remade

Two new studies of very different crops – banana and chrysanthemum, of all things – end up telling surprisingly similar, deliciously complicated stories. For these crops, domestication was not once and done, so to speak. They were both repeatedly remade as people moved them through landscapes containing new wild diversity.

In the banana study, the authors suggest that a partly domesticated Musa acuminata lineage from New Guinea was carried westwards through Southeast Asia, encountering and hybridizing again and again with different local wild bananas along the way. Each encounter added new genetic material to an already changing crop, helping produce the genomic mosaics found in mainland Southeast Asian bananas today.

The chrysanthemum study reveals a strikingly parallel history: cultivated plants originating in China were introduced to Japan, where they encountered local wild populations and acquired new genetic diversity, before later movements to Europe and further breeding reshaped the crop again.

The papers also show that an essentially similar process played out somewhat differently in the two crops. In banana, repeated hybridization appears to have been important in the building of the crop itself, as domesticated or partly domesticated plants became the starting material for successive encounters with wild Musa. In chrysanthemum, genomic analysis reveals a more complex network of relationships among multiple wild and cultivated groups, with C. indicum among the important ancestral contributors. In this genetic cauldron, hybridization and introgression repeatedly diversified an established cultivated genepool, contributing to traits such as flower form, colour and plant architecture.

Taken together, these papers challenge the familiar “funnel,” or bottleneck, image of domestication: a one-way downward slide from diverse wild relative to genetically narrow crop. Instead, they point to a more stop-start, two-way, non-linear, geographically contingent process, in which (semi-)cultivated plants continue to encounter, absorb and be reshaped by wild diversity.

In both banana and chrysanthemum — and probably many other cases — wild relatives have been more active, continuous participants in creating the diversity of the crops we know today than we sometimes give them credit for. Or I have given them credit for at any rate.

That argues for treating the wild genepool not simply as a reservoir from which to fish out useful genes one at a time. The historical evidence suggests that crops have benefited in the past from repeatedly absorbing larger chunks of wild genetic diversity, allowing selection to reconstruct useful combinations. Might it be worth trying to make that happen again? Is anyone out there doing pre-breeding explicitly with an eye to the past?

Brainfood: Biodiversity works through relationships

Putting names and faces to organic seed diversity

LIVESEEDING is a project…

…to foster the growth of the organic sector and transition towards more sustainable local food systems by delivering high quality organic seed of diverse cultivars adjusted to organic farming for a wide range of crops.

It is funded by Horizon Europe (Innovation Action), the Swiss State Secretariat for Education, Research and Innovation and UK Research and Innovation, and gathers 37 partners from 16 countries.

The project is producing some interesting resources, but the ones I like best are actually a little difficult to find on their website. So difficult, in fact, that I have to resort to linking to them via a search result on Organic Farm Knowledge.

They are plant genetic cards, each providing information on a specific cultivar, “supporting its identification, conservation, cultivation and use by farmers, seed practitioners, breeders, researchers and other stakeholders of the seed system.”

Here’s a little piece of one such card from Greece.

There’s also something called the EU Organic Seed Database “to create more transparency for the EU member states and for plant reproductive material suppliers regarding available offers of organic plant reproductive materials and to increase the supply of organic plant reproductive material in the EU member states and Switzerland.”

To be honest, I haven’t really played around with it enough to form a definitive judgement, but it does seem a little complicated to navigate at first blush. If anyone has a go, and has an opinion, please let me know in the comments. However, the plant genetic cards do have links to possible sources of seeds.

Biodiversity plans need genebanks

A new FAO policy brief analyses how the 78 revised National Biodiversity Strategies and Action Plans (NBSAPs) submitted to the CBD as of February 2026 treat agrifood systems.

The headline numbers: All 78 NBSAPs that were looked at include agrifood-related targets and actions: 63% of all national targets are implemented through agrifood-related actions, and 36% of all planned actions (4,381 of 12,332) relate to agrifood systems. I think that’s pretty good. Togo tops the list with 80% of its actions being agrifood-related, built around agroecology, sustainable forest management and genetic resource use.

The genetic resources for food and agriculture (GRFA) angle: Of the 55-item typology of agrifood actions tracked, sustainable use of GRFA appears in 74% of NBSAPs and conservation of GRFA in 70%, so both are relatively well covered. But two other pieces of the puzzle lag: inventory and characterization of GRFA sits at only 49%, and access and benefit-sharing of GRFA at 48%. So countries seem to be readier to commit to using and conserving genetic resources than to the maybe less glamorous work of cataloguing what they have or sorting out benefit-sharing arrangements.

The report’s six policy recommendations essentially argue for turning these paper commitments into funded, monitored action, particularly flagging aquaculture, agroecology, rights-based governance, and finance as areas needing a bit of a push.

This is a genuinely thorough policy analysis: 78 NBSAPs coded against a 55-item action typology is real work. But to me it was a little frustrating that twelve pages on agrifood systems never get to grips with the infrastructure that actually keeps agricultural biodiversity — the foundation of healthy agrifood system — alive. Protected areas are mentioned, but there’s nothing specifically on national or international genebanks or on-farm conservation; no Plant Treaty and its access and benefit-sharing system either. I can’t believe none of these were mentioned in the NBSAPs. Conservation and sustainable use of GRFA end up as generic line items in a typology, without much sense of what “conservation” looks like in practice, or who’s actually doing the inventorying that only half of countries have committed to.

It’s solid policy-text analysis, but it stays resolutely, almost defiantly, high-level. It’s a report on commitments on biodiversity in and for agriculture that doesn’t recognize that at least for crop diversity, a global genebank system is being built to help carry them out. Seems a pity.

50 years of cassava diversity: what went into the bank, and what came out

Two new papers in Plants, published two months apart, tell the story of CIAT’s cassava genebank 1 from opposite ends: how the collection was assembled and conserved, and what breeders have actually done with it. Read together, they amount to a remarkably candid 50-year audit of a slow-motion agricultural asset. I’ll just give you the main beats here. It’s really worth reading both papers in full.

Part I is the origin story. Botanist Victor Manuel Patiño’s 1969–70 expeditions alone brought in roughly a third of today’s 5,000 or so cassava landraces, transported as stem cuttings across Colombia, Ecuador, Venezuela and beyond, often in difficult conditions and under changing quarantine rules.

The collection has its blind spots: Brazil and the Guianas remain poorly represented 2, passport information can be patchy, and the overwhelmingly male composition of historical collecting teams probably meant that some of the varietal knowledge held by women farmers went unrecorded.

Conservation itself has been a moving target. It has evolved from field genebanks to in vitro slow-growth tissue culture storage after a frogskin-disease scare forced the field collection to close in 2003, and now cryopreservation at CIAT’s Future Seeds facility. Meanwhile, DNA fingerprinting keeps revealing an awkward truth familiar to genebank curators everywhere: the names people give varieties and the genetic identities of the material do not always agree. A lot of effort over the years has also gone into testing for pathogens to ensure that distribution is safe.

Part II asks what all this diversity is actually for? The answer has also changed considerably over five decades. Early researchers chased traits such as high protein and low cyanogenic content before turning towards yield and starch percentage in the Green Revolution era.

The payoffs have been considerable: landraces have contributed traits such as resistance to pests and diseases, adaptation to acid soils and highland cold, and quality traits for fresh-market cooking versus industrial starch. The route from accession to released variety is rarely direct: a landrace gets screened for a trait, crossed, then recombined and selected over several more generations before anything reaches a farmer’s field. The results include varieties like Nataima-3, bred for whitefly resistance thanks to an Ecuadorian landrace. At the same time, the authors argue that cassava breeding now needs to move beyond broad phenotypic selection towards more systematic use of inbred lines, because the crop’s high heterozygosity makes the introduction of specific traits particularly difficult.

The two papers therefore tell a big story about genebanks. Collecting diversity is only the beginning; its value is realized decades later, when a breeder encounters a problem that nobody could have anticipated when the stuff was first collected. The cassava collection is a long-term portfolio of biological options, one whose contents have taken half a century to assemble, whose inventory is still being corrected, and whose most valuable assets may be the ones that have not yet been used.

A new project is looking to genetically engineer cassava to photosynthesize more efficiently at higher temperatures. I do wonder whether someone has already checked whether any of those 5,000 landraces might help with that. Maybe they can’t, but it’s worth having a look. And you never know, something else of interest might jump out. That’s the beauty of large international collections of crop diversity such as CIAT’s.