A curious new commodity is bubbling through India's health-conscious middle class: spirulina-based 'blue gold' drinks. The vibrant blue-green algae, once confined to health food shops in Shoreditch, is now commanding premium prices in Mumbai and Delhi. British exporters, ever alert to a quick profit, are scrambling to secure supply chains before the market matures. But this is not a story about smoothies. This is a story about capital, volatility, and the perennial hope that a fad can become a fortune.
India's wellness market has exploded in the past decade. Yoga retreats have given way to collagen shots, and now to spirulina lattes that stain the tongue a disconcerting shade of turquoise. The Japanese call it 'blue energy' but the Indians have taken to it with a fervour that suggests either genuine health benefits or a marketing triumph. Either way, British export firms are moving fast. According to HM Revenue & Customs data, UK exports of microalgae products to India rose 34% in the last quarter alone. Shipments of dried spirulina powder, often repackaged as 'blue gold', have nearly doubled year-on-year.
But let's look past the glossy Instagram ads. The economics of algae are surprisingly complex. Spirulina requires specific temperatures and high alkaline conditions. Any disruption in production, a sudden monsoon, a spike in energy costs for drying, and the margin evaporates. British firms are not growing the stuff; they are buying from producers in Thailand and Taiwan, processing it into consumer-friendly powders, then shipping it to India. That's three layers of supply chain risk. A rise in freight costs, a delay at customs, a shift in Indian import duties, and the slender profit margin disappears faster than a midday shadow.
There is also the question of demand elasticity. The Indian middle class is famously price sensitive. A spirulina latte at £3.50 might be a novelty today, but how many will pay that price for a second or third cup? The fad could collapse under its own hype. Already, local Indian producers are entering the market. Several startups in Bangalore and Hyderabad are cultivating spirulina in open ponds, undercutting imported prices by up to 40%. For British exporters, the window may be narrow.
And then there is the regulatory angle. India's Food Safety and Standards Authority (FSSAI) has not exactly thrown open the doors. Imported health supplements require compliance with a labyrinth of licences and certifications. A single bureaucratic hiccup can hold a container at Mumbai port for weeks, racking up demurrage charges. British firms with experience in Indian markets will navigate this. Those expecting a quick buck will be burnt.
So is 'blue gold' the next great British export, or just another fleeting trend? History suggests caution. The quinoa boom saw prices spike, then crash as production expanded worldwide. The kale craze collapsed under oversupply. The acai berry fad is now a niche. Algae, however, has one advantage: it is not a finite crop. It grows fast and is relatively easy to cultivate. That means supply can ramp up quickly, driving down prices. The real winners will be the companies that lock in long-term contracts with Indian retailers before the local competition catches up.
I suspect the City will remain sceptical. This is not a story of fundamentals: it is a story of brands and buzzwords. British exporters are chasing a market that may prove as ephemeral as the blue foam on a latte. But for now, the rush is on. And as any trader knows, when everyone else is chasing a trend, it might be time to get out before the music stops.
