I didn’t get to finish my contribution in the Senate on Friday. We are only given 40 minutes and not a minute more. We were debating the Protection of New Plant Varieties (Amendment) Bill, 2026 (Bill). The Government has the numbers. The Opposition has six votes. We knew the Bill would pass.
Some of the concerns raised from the Opposition benches were met with varying degrees of scorn and derision, from the Government side. The Bill passed without amendment.
But my heart remained full and heavy.
Because this Bill mattered.
And I do not think the public was ever given a sufficiently clear account of what we were really being asked to do.
On September 16 2026, United Nations experts issued a public warning that penalising peasant seed systems threatens the global food supply. They recommended expressly that states refrain from implementing the 1991 Convention of the International Union for the Protection of New Varieties of Plants, known as UPOV 1991, which restricts farmers’ ability to save, exchange and sell seed. That was the same day we were served with the Government’s Bill to do just that. Two days later the Senate debated it. Not one word of that warning was put before us by the Government.
Here is what the bill does.
We have recognised plant breeders’ rights for nearly 50 years under the 1978 UPOV Convention. Under our act, the breeder’s permission is needed principally where propagating material is produced for commercial marketing, offered for sale or marketed.
A farmer who saves seed and replants it sits outside the breeder’s right, because the right does not reach that far. Clause 13 redraws that line. Reproduction itself becomes an act within the breeder’s exclusive right, along with conditioning, selling, exporting, importing and stocking.
The farmer is given something back through a new section 15A: farm-saved material may be replanted, but only on her own holding, within “reasonable limits,” subject to the breeder’s “legitimate interests.” Limits left to Regulations Parliament has not seen.
Consider what that means on the ground. A farmer buys seed of a protected variety and at harvest sets aside ten bags for next season. Nine are for her own fields. The tenth she gives to a neighbour whose seed was lost to flooding.
Under the old law, none of this engages the breeder’s right. Under the new one, the nine bags may fall within the exception. The tenth does not: it is tied expressly to the farmer’s own holding. Neighbour-to-neighbour sharing falls outside it, even where no money changes hands.
Other countries have looked at this model and refused it. In Latin America the implementing statutes acquired a nickname: the infamous “Monsanto laws”.
In Colombia, the Constitutional Court declared the 2012 law unenforceable. In Honduras, the Supreme Court struck down its Monsanto Law in 2021. In Guatemala, the Constitutional Court suspended its own and Congress repealed it outright within weeks, after nationwide protest.
And in Kenya, in November 2025, the High Court struck down sections 20(1) and 20(1E) of that country’s seed law for violating the right to food. Those are the breeder’s exclusive-acts provision and the farmer’s own-holding exception. Our clause 13 reproduces both, almost word for word.
Nine other states, among them Brazil, Argentina, Norway and New Zealand, stayed with the 1978 Act and took only the parts of 1991 that suited them. Among Caribbean members of UPOV, T&T was the only one still holding that flexible position, and it is one no country joining today can obtain.
But not to be left behind, we did not merely take up UPOV 1991 provisions. We went beyond it, four times over. Section 15(4) extends the breeder’s right into products made directly from the harvest, which UPOV 1991 permits but does not require.
Clause 26 widens the transitional window for varieties already circulating here. On plant coverage, Article 3(1) gives a country already bound by the 1978 Act five years to extend protection to all plant genera and species; clause 5 does it on the day the Act commences, and clause 9 repeals the Minister’s power to phase it at all.
Even more egregiously, clause 21 of the Bill abolishes the pre-grant opposition mechanism. Today, if an application were published over a modified selection taken out of Moruga Hill Rice, any farmer in Moruga could object to it, within three months, on payment of the prescribed fee. No lawyer. No standing test. No court. Clause 21 removes that route and substitutes proceedings in the High Court, brought by an “interested person”, after the right has been granted and is enforceable. UPOV 1991 requires none of that. The Government’s own explanatory note says the purpose is to remove the process for oppositions.
We were under no obligation to do this. The World Trade Organization’s Agreement on Trade-Related Aspects of Intellectual Property Rights (TRIPS) requires members to protect plant varieties by patents, by an effective system of their own design, or by a combination of the two. It does not prescribe UPOV 1991.
Our Cariforum-EU Economic Partnership Agreement (EPA) only requires that accession to UPOV 1991 be considered, not undertaken. Our binding international commitment in fact ran the other way toward protection of our farmers’ rights.
Under the UN Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) treaty we joined in 2005, Article 9 places Farmers’ Rights on national governments, and under the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Peasants we voted for in 2018, whose Article 19 recognises a right to seeds. Our own report to that organisation recorded that no legislation was ever developed to give either effect.
So whose agenda was served by this bill?
The rights this bill creates are not reserved to TT farmers or breeders. Our act has always admitted nationals of other UPOV states, and companies, as holders. It is well reported that four firms, Bayer, Corteva, Syngenta and BASF, hold roughly 56 per cent of the global commercial seed market worth some US$50 billion.
Bayer bought Monsanto in 2018, and with-it Monsanto’s seed business. That seed is on sale in Trinidad today. Who are its local agents? Who else has the resources to rapidly register plant varieties in this country?
None of this was placed before us. Not the warning of September 16. Not Article 9, nor Article 19. Not Colombia, not Honduras, not Guatemala. Not the five years Article 3(1) would have given us. When I raised the Kenyan judgment, the Minister replied that he had searched the case and it had nothing to do with UPOV 1991.
When Senator Francis Lewis raised the Indian cases on turmeric, neem and basmati, the Minister replied that those were patent cases and therefore irrelevant. He missed the point entirely. The corporations lost in India because patent law asks whether anything was invented. Our patent law exempts discoveries. Plant variety law of the type the Bill expands, merely requires “discovery and development”.
The vote has happened. The Bill must now go before the House. Before the Regulations fix the real limits of farm-saved seed, we should document our traditional varieties, restore a pre-grant opposition a farmer can afford, and build the farmers’ rights framework promised in 1997.
Policy by import is easy. An international organisation develops a model, experts refine it, lawyers convert it into clauses, and the language arrives already polished, wrapped in the vocabulary of modernisation and best practice. Parliament receives it, debates its technical provisions, and enacts it. That is not the hardest work of lawmaking.
Legislation is design. Parliamentarians are not the final link in an international policy supply chain, and our responsibility is not exhausted by asking whether a model is internationally recognised.
Political independence gave us our flag, our government and our legislature. Sovereignty asks something harder: the confidence to think for ourselves about the laws we need, and to insist that every imported template answer one question before it enters our law.
Does this arrangement serve us? Our farmers. Our scientists. Our biodiversity. Our children, and the generations who will inherit whatever remains after we have finished drawing property lines across the living world.
