我當初離開家裡產業,其實是因為早期的銷售模式非常受限。我們的柿餅主要是賣給盤商,由盤商再批發給水果攤,能不能賺錢完全要看盤商臉色。那是更早以前就存在的問題。
後來我回來接手,開始思考轉型。剛好那段時間,台灣與中國大陸簽署了 WTO 相關貿易協定,中國的農產品可以大量進口。因為他們的生產成本低,對台灣產業造成非常大的衝擊。以前這個地區有 23 間柿餅業者,現在只剩下 9 間。
除了進口競爭,更大的問題其實是「年輕人不願意接手」。這不只是台灣的問題,日本、韓國也一樣。大家普遍對農業沒有興趣,覺得科技業比較有前途,導致產業嚴重斷層、人力難找。許多業者倒閉,除了賣不贏進口產品,另一個原因就是後繼無人。
我自己是第四代,本來也不想接,但我不希望這個產業斷在我手上,所以最後還是回來了。很多年輕人甚至不知道家裡有這樣的產業,除非是從小由長輩帶著、吃過、接觸過,才會有感情。
其實台灣很早就在課本中介紹柿餅這類地方產業,只是行銷力道不夠。近年因為觀光客增加,開始有遊覽車進來,情況才慢慢改善。
我們原本只是加工站,後來我接手後開始行銷,申請轉型為觀光農場。但在過程中我發現,最大的斷層還是年輕世代,因此我又進一步申請教育農場,希望透過學校教育,讓孩子從小認識本地產業。
剛好我自己也是在地國小的會長,所以先從熟識的學校開始,帶學生來認識在地產業,從地方、全國,甚至放眼世界,讓大家知道這個產業的存在。
我們所在的地區是新竹縣新埔鎮的漢坑。柿餅其實是客家人非常重要的文化產業。客家人因為長期遷徙、逃難,很擅長將食物曬乾保存,柿餅就是其中一種高營養、方便攜帶的食物,可以說是早期的「逃難口糧」。
這項技術是客家人從中國大陸帶來台灣,已經有四百多年歷史,而漢坑開始發展柿餅產業約有兩百多年。
早期製作柿餅完全靠天氣,風乾失敗就整批報廢,因此是很珍貴的食物,只有有錢人吃得起。後來我父親發明了乾燥設備,可以量產、不受天氣影響,但風味與傳統日曬方式差異很大。
我曾想全面使用機器,但後來想起奶奶的一句話:「做吃的要有良心,要嘛做到最好,不然就不要做。」最後我們選擇堅持最傳統的製作方式,雖然辛苦,卻也因此成為最有特色、最被看見的一家。
目前漢坑主要有 9 間柿餅業者,其中只有少數能轉型為觀光型,其餘仍以盤商銷售為主。
進口產品對我們的衝擊非常大,尤其是中國大陸的柿餅,不僅價格低,還常使用添加物,甚至冒用台灣品牌名稱販售,造成消費者混淆。我們的柿餅捏了會回彈、容易裂,進口品卻能任意塑形,差異非常明顯。
我們不選擇進入大型通路,是因為上架費與層層抽成讓小農根本無法獲利,反而進口貨有價格優勢。
因此,我選擇從教育著手,讓孩子親身體驗、認識「食物」與「食品」的差別,理解農業的重要性。科技固然重要,但沒有農業,人類連生存都有問題。
我也常問學生一個問題:世界末日來臨時,兩個貨櫃,一個裝 3C 產品,一個裝農產品,你會選哪一個?大多數孩子會選 3C,但經過討論後,他們才開始思考農業真正的價值。
我不會強迫下一代接手產業,因為我認為,只有真正喜歡,才能把事情做好。農業現在已經不再是過去那麼辛苦,只要懂得經營與行銷,一樣能創造價值,也能擁有時間與生活的自主權。
我希望透過教育,讓孩子記住這個味道、這段故事,哪怕未來不從農,也能尊重土地、珍惜食物。這樣,教育就算成功了。
The reason I left the family business was because the early sales model was extremely limited. Our persimmon cakes were mainly sold to wholesalers, who then resold them to fruit stalls. Whether we made a profit depended entirely on the wholesalers' whims. That was a problem that had existed for a long time.
Later, I returned to take over and started thinking about transformation. Around that time, Taiwan and mainland China signed a WTO-related trade agreement, allowing for large-scale imports of Chinese agricultural products. Because of their lower production costs, this had a huge impact on Taiwanese industries. Previously, there were 23 persimmon cake businesses in the area; now only 9 remain.
Besides import competition, the bigger problem was that "young people are unwilling to take over." This isn't just a problem in Taiwan; it's the same in Japan and South Korea. People generally lack interest in agriculture, feeling that the technology industry has a better future, leading to a severe industry gap and a shortage of labor. Many businesses went bankrupt, not only because they couldn't compete with imported products, but also because there was a lack of successors.
I myself am a fourth-generation descendant, and I initially didn't want to take over, but I didn't want this business to die in my hands, so I eventually came back. Many young people are unaware that their families have such a business, unless they've been introduced to it by elders from a young age and have experienced it firsthand.
Actually, Taiwan has introduced local industries like persimmon cakes in textbooks for a long time, but marketing efforts have been insufficient. In recent years, with the increase in tourists and the introduction of tour buses, the situation has gradually improved.
We were originally just a processing station. After I took over, I started marketing and applied to transform it into a tourist farm. However, I discovered that the biggest gap was with the younger generation. Therefore, I further applied for an educational farm, hoping to introduce children to local industries from a young age through school education.
I happen to be the president of a local elementary school, so I started with schools I'm familiar with, bringing students to learn about local industries, and then, from a local, national, and even global perspective, letting people know about the existence of this industry.
We are located in Hankeng, Xinpu Township, Hsinchu County. Persimmon cakes are actually a very important cultural industry for the Hakka people. Due to their long history of migration and refugees, the Hakka people are very skilled at drying and preserving food. Persimmon cakes are a highly nutritious and easy-to-carry food, and can be considered an early form of "refugee rations."
This technique was brought to Taiwan from mainland China by the Hakka people and has a history of over 400 years, while the persimmon cake industry in Hankeng has been developing for about 200 years.
In the early days, persimmon cake production was entirely dependent on the weather; if the drying process failed, the entire batch was wasted, making it a precious food that only the wealthy could afford. Later, my father invented drying equipment that allowed for mass production, unaffected by the weather, but the flavor differed greatly from traditional sun-drying methods.
I once considered using machines entirely, but then I remembered my grandmother's words: "When making food, you must have a conscience; either do it to the best of your ability, or don't do it at all." In the end, we chose to stick to the most traditional production methods. Although it was hard work, it made us the most distinctive and well-known.
Currently, there are nine persimmon cake businesses in Hankeng, but only a few have been able to transform into tourist businesses; the rest still mainly sell through wholesalers.
Imported products have had a huge impact on us, especially persimmon cakes from mainland China. They are not only cheaper but also often contain additives and even use Taiwanese brand names to sell, causing consumer confusion. Our persimmon cakes are springy and easily cracked when squeezed, while imported products can be shaped at will—the difference is very obvious. We don't choose to enter large distribution channels because the listing fees and multiple layers of commission make it impossible for small farmers to profit, while imported goods have a price advantage.
Therefore, I chose to start with education, letting children experience firsthand the difference between "food" and "products," and understand the importance of agriculture. Technology is certainly important, but without agriculture, humanity would struggle to survive.
I often ask my students a question: If the world ends and you have two shipping containers, one filled with electronics and the other with agricultural products, which would you choose? Most children would choose electronics, but after discussion, they begin to consider the true value of agriculture.
I won't force the next generation to take over the industry because I believe that only those who truly love it can do it well. Agriculture is no longer as arduous as it used to be. With proper management and marketing, it's possible to create value and have autonomy over time and life.
I hope that through education, children will remember this taste, this story, and even if they don't pursue a career in agriculture, they will still respect the land and cherish food. That would be a successful education.