Social media trends are driving Indonesia's patchouli oil industry. The cost? Deforestation

Independent

28-03-2025

Tucked between the village and the forest, Haruna and his father-in-law worked diligently through the night distilling dried patchouli plants, stoking the boiler with firewood, drops of fragrant patchouli oil trickling into plastic bottles.
A sense of satisfaction washed over them as they watched the container fill with thick, rich brown oil, a sign of high-quality patchouli, the result of their hard work and precision.
Haruna, 42, who like many Indonesians only uses one name, is a patchouli farmer in Simboro, a sub-district of western Sulawesi. He and his father-in-law have been waiting in line for several weeks to finally be able to process their harvest in a modest steam distillation facility an hour's drive from their farm. Demand for the plant's oils has skyrocketed in recent years, and so too has the number of farmers in the region who grow and process it. But the trend has an uglier underbelly as Indonesia's vast rainforest is cleared to make way for patchouli farming. That loss of a vital ecosystem also increases the threat of landslides.
With a deep, earthy, musky scent, patchouli oil is derived from the leaves of the Pogostemon cablin plant, a member of the mint family. It's native to Southeast Asia, mostly in Indonesia. The aromatic oil is marketed for its calming effects, helping ease stress and anxiety. It's found in luxury fragrances, cosmetics and other wellness products. Social media trends have driven the most recent surge in interest in patchouli oil.
Patchouli thrives in Indonesia's tropical climate, which supplies over 80% of the global market. Prices for one kilogram of patchouli oil for farmers can be up to 2.4 million rupiah ($147).
A trend that drives deforestation and landslides
A vast tropical archipelago stretching across the equator, Indonesia is home to the world's third-largest rainforest, with a variety of endangered wildlife and plants, including orangutans, elephants, the endemic bird Maleo, and giant forest flowers.
Patchouli has been a key commodity on Indonesia's tropical island of Sulawesi since the early 2000s, but in just less than two years, it has become part of daily life in Mamuju City. Dried plants hang from homes' porches, while the bushy perennial herbs with their oval, often hairy, leaves can be easily found at the roadsides.
Deeper into the forest and beyond the villages, new lands are being cleared. Thousands of plastic cups shelter young patchouli seedlings, signaling that in a few months, yet more fields will be covered in the fragrant crop.
Local authorities are encouraging the community to get into the patchouli business to support their income. But West Sulawesi's Environment and Forestry Agency has warned that the trend threatens the land and the people around it. As the rainforest gets cleared, slopes get less stable, making them more prone to landslides.
Zulkifli Manggazali, head of West Sulawesi's Environment and Forestry Agency, said that patchouli cannot be planted on slopes with an angle of 45 degrees or more. "Because when patchouli is planted there, there will be erosion, flooding, and landslides,' he explained.
It is not known exactly how much land has been deforested for patchouli planting but as the trend grows, it cuts deeper and deeper into the forest. Patchouli distillation also has the potential to increase deforestation, as firewood is used from the surrounding forests to heat water for the steam distillation process.
In several areas where forests have been cleared to make way for patchouli plantations in the island, landslides have begun to take their toll. This January, a family was killed by a landslide in Mamuju. Their house was in a hilly, vulnerable area.
Local authorities at that time said that patchouli planting was not a main factor in the disaster, but it did play a part because patchouli had been planted nearby.
Finding more sustainable economic alternatives
Hardi, who also uses one name, is a 36-year-old patchouli farmer. He has already harvested patchouli twice, and spends most of his days alongside his 60-year-old mother and brother on their one-hectare plantation. His land has turned into a bustling hub where they dry and cut patchouli before sending it off for distillation.
Before patchouli, Hardi cultivated cloves, but the long harvest period and declining market prices prompted him to make a change. He turned to patchouli, plants that are smaller and more like bushes, and chose to plant it on the steep hillside, an arduous location that demands a strenuous uphill walk of over 30 minutes.
The patchouli brings in enough money for him and his family's needs. But it's unsustainable: patchouli can only grow on the same land twice before farmers need to clear a new patch to farm on. It's another factor leading to deforestation.
Like many farmers, Hardi has no idea exactly where the oil ends up after it leaves his hands. The distillation owner, who buys the oil from him for around 1,400,000 rupiah ($86) per kilogram (two pounds), remains the sole link between his work and exporters, most of whom are based on Indonesia's main island of Java, before it eventually reaches the global market.
For Manggazali from the environment agency, the cost isn't worth the prices the farmers and the surrounding communities would pay if their patchouli farming leads to landslide. "If a flood comes, everyone around there will be affected,' he said.
To avoid a spiraling trend of increased deforestation for patchouli, Manggazali suggests that the island would benefit from getting into a more sustainable industry.
'If patchouli has been planted, it should be replaced with productive trees, such as durian trees,' he said. 'It also has economic value, but for the longer term.'
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