Key takeaways:
- Fuel disruption linked to the Iran conflict has forced Japan’s Yamayoshi Seika to halt crisp production, showing how quickly energy shocks can hit food manufacturing.
- Attacks on Middle East energy infrastructure, including LNG and oil facilities, are tightening global supply and raising the risk of wider production disruption.
- The crisis mirrors Japan’s 2017 potato shortage, highlighting the food industry’s vulnerability to single points of failure – this time not crops, but energy.
Japan’s snack aisle has become an unexpected casualty of the escalating Iran conflict, after fuel shortages forced Tokyo-based chip maker Yamayoshi Seika to halt production of its Wasabeef crisps.
The company has suspended six products after supplies of heavy oil – used to power its frying systems – were cut off, leaving production at a standstill and availability limited to existing stock, according to Japan Times. What began as warnings of price increases of up to 30% quickly escalated into a complete halt in deliveries, leaving the business with little choice but to stop production altogether.
The disruption is linked to mounting attacks on energy infrastructure across the Middle East, where oil refineries, gas facilities and export routes have all come under pressure. At the same time, the Strait of Hormuz – which carries around one-fifth of global oil supply – has become an increasingly fragile chokepoint, tightening fuel availability in import-dependent markets.
For Japan, which sources roughly 95% of its crude oil from the region, the impact has been both immediate and unusually visible – in this case, showing up on supermarket shelves.
From war zone to factory floor
What began as a geopolitical conflict has now evolved into something far more tangible for industry: an energy shock that is starting to feed directly into production.
QatarEnergy estimates that strikes on Qatar’s gas infrastructure have already knocked out around one-sixth of its LNG export capacity, while oil facilities in Kuwait and Saudi Arabia have also been hit. Israel has also targeted Iran’s South Pars gas field – one of the largest in the world – raising concerns that disruption to supply could prove more prolonged than initially expected.
In global markets, that’s playing out through price volatility and tightening supply. For manufacturers, the effects are more immediate and harder to manage. Fuel becomes more difficult to secure, costs rise sharply, and in some cases, supply simply stops.
That was the position Yamayoshi Seika found itself in. Its supplier flagged steep price increases before halting deliveries altogether, leaving the company without the fuel required to run its frying systems. The business impact is significant. The company typically generates around ¥400m-¥500m ($2.5m-$3m) in monthly sales, all of which is now effectively on pause.
Governments have begun to respond, with Japan releasing oil from its strategic reserves and G7 countries signalling a willingness to stabilise shipping routes and increase output. However, these are system-level interventions, and they take time to filter through to manufacturers dealing with immediate supply gaps.
Not the first time Japan’s crisps have vanished
For Japan’s snack sector, this isn’t the first time a single supply shock has had such visible consequences.
In 2017, a series of typhoons hit Hokkaido, the country’s main potato-growing region, which supplies around 80% of domestic potatoes. The resulting crop losses led to the smallest harvest in more than three decades and triggered a nationwide crisp shortage.
Manufacturers were forced to scale back production quickly. Calbee halted 15 products and discontinued 18, while Koike-ya suspended nine and cut seven lines entirely. Crisp prices rose sharply – by close to 20% in a single month – while empty shelves and panic buying became widespread.
Attempts to offset the shortfall through imports were limited, constrained by quality requirements and phytosanitary restrictions.
Different shock, same weak spot
The parallels with the current situation are difficult to ignore. Then, the industry was exposed to a single point of failure in agricultural supply. Now, it’s exposed to a single point of failure in energy. The triggers are different, but the underlying vulnerability is the same: a heavy reliance on a single, critical input.
In both cases, once that input failed, production followed.
Yamayoshi Seika may be the first snack maker to halt production in the current crisis, but it’s unlikely to be the last. Pressure is already building upstream, with fertiliser producers pausing new orders as costs surge and supply routes come under strain.
For now, most food manufacturers are absorbing those pressures rather than stopping output. However, that balance becomes increasingly difficult to maintain as disruption continues.
The difference this time lies in both scale and complexity. Damage to major energy infrastructure in the Gulf could take years to repair, while continued attacks raise the risk of sustained disruption. Unlike agricultural supply, energy is embedded across every stage of the system.
It’s not simply a cost to be managed. It underpins everything from farming and processing to frying, baking, transport and cold storage. When supply tightens, the impact goes beyond margins and into whether production can continue at all.
If the 2017 crisis forced manufacturers to rethink sourcing and crop resilience, the current shock may prompt a more fundamental question. How secure is the energy that underpins the food system itself?
