The price of not coordinating

In late May 2026, the price of avocados in the United States rebounded enough to raise the hopes of more than one exporter. It didn't last long. By July, according to the CIRAD/FruiTrop weekly report, the spot price for size 48 avocados had fallen back to US$35 per box, 36% below the average of the previous two seasons—and that was despite Peru, one of the main suppliers to that market, having already cut its shipments to the United States by more than half this season. One origin withdrew; the price still plummeted. Never before had so much fruit been available on the continent. Never before had any sign of recovery been so fleeting.

It's not a demand problem: global avocado consumption continues to grow season after season, and, as the industry itself reiterates at every conference, there's no limit to the avocado's consumption in sight. The problem lies elsewhere, and it's more uncomfortable to discuss: when more than one origin—or more than one exporter within the same origin—pushes the same volume into the same sales window, the market doesn't reward anyone's efficiency; it penalizes everyone equally.
This isn't the first time this has happened, nor is it unique to Mexico: it happened to Peru in 2025. Market reports showed Peru's shipments to the United States growing by 55%; by 2026, the figure had reversed: its volumes to that market fell by 55% compared to the previous season, according to CIRAD/FruiTrop. While withdrawing from the United States, its share of the European Hass avocado market rose from 71% to 84% between comparable weeks of the last two seasons. It's not that Colombia, Kenya, or South Africa lacked available demand in Europe: it's that Peru, with the same volume it withdrew from one market, ended up flooding the other, leaving less and less real space for other origins to supplement the supply. The pattern repeats itself because the underlying structure hasn't changed: exporting more, faster, before the neighbor, without any entity coordinating how much, when, and where.

This is where the industry confuses two distinct things. One is a geographic cluster, where proximity doesn't automatically generate coordination—Mexico is demonstrating this orchard by orchard, exporter by exporter. Quite another is what I call an Avocado Value Network: a value network where producers, exporters, and importers share information on volumes, harvest windows, and destinations before shipping, not after the price has already plummeted in the wrong market.

This isn't a proposal for a cartel or artificially restricting supply—that line must be carefully guarded. It's precisely the opposite: more transparency, not less competition. An exporter who knows how much volume their competitors are withdrawing from a market can decide, with real information, whether to fill that gap or strengthen another. A producer who sees where the rest of the industry is moving can plan their own market window, instead of reacting blindly. This is exactly the kind of information that, shared in a timely manner, would allow for diversifying destinations and volumes before the market punishes them.

The avocado industry doesn't have a volume problem. It has a problem with shared information and the will to act on it. Coordination isn't about limiting growth; it's the only way to ensure that growth translates into a profitable business for producers, not just pressure that bounces from one market to another.

Pedro Hevia
CEO & Founder Puro Connection
pedro.hevia@puro.farm
Chili