A Critique of the Current Season of Farmer Wants A Wife
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I have a few things to say about the current season of Farmer Wants A Wife. It’s not the fact that the farmers this year seem exceedingly dull. Nor is it the repeated insistence from Farmer Jarrad about wanting a “strong and independent woman.” It’s not even the drama that Miranda brings to the table in her MAFS-esque style. No, it’s the Jessicas.
They are giving every one of us who shares the same name a very bad reputation.
Watch: This is what’s in store for us on the 2026 season of Farmer Wants A Wife. Post continues below.
Video via Channel Seven.
As a Jessica myself, I’ve spent years defending our people. Yes, we are the Millennial Kares. Yes, there were approximately 74 of us in every primary school class photo taken between 1992 and 2002. But, generally speaking, Jessicas are reliable. We show up. We follow through. We understand the assignment.
But the Jessicas on Farmer Wants A Wife have apparently decided to launch a coordinated campaign against our collective reputation.
Let’s review the evidence.
First, there was Jessie, who barely made it onto the show. The 36-year-old administrator was matched with Farmer Jason, but panicked before ever setting foot on his farm, making it only as far as nearby Kingaroy before deciding the experience wasn’t for her.
Ah, Jessie, we hardly knew ye. And neither did Jason. Image: Channel Seven.
I can genuinely sympathise with anyone who realises reality television might not be their thing. Being followed by cameras while competing for the affections of a stranger sounds like my personal version of hell. But, respectfully, Jessie, was this information not… available beforehand?
Farmer Wants A Wife has been on Australian television for nearly two decades. The cameras aren’t exactly a surprise plot twist.
Then came Jessica Number Two, who somehow managed to eliminate herself because Farmer Jason… didn’t eliminate anyone else. When Jason decided not to send a woman home during a group dinner, Jessica became so annoyed that she essentially said, “Fine, I’ll do it myself.” There was eye-rolling. There was scoffing. There was a dramatic microphone removal. It was exactly the kind of theatrical overreaction I’d expect from a Jessica, and exactly the kind of publicity we do not need right now.
“I’m disappointed that Jason chose not to send anyone home, so I’m actually not going to stay,” she explained. Again, I say this with love, but… what?
Jessica, please, not now. Image: Channel Seven.
This is the dating show equivalent of rage-quitting Monopoly because nobody landed at your hotel (also, coincidentally, a very on-brand Jessica thing to do).
This same Jessica had, hours earlier on her solo date, pointed out that life on a remote farm might not be for her because she enjoys being able to walk to a bar, have a few cocktails and walk home. Which feels like another detail that very much could have been anticipated before applying to, you know, date a farmer.
And just when I thought the Jessica situation couldn’t get any more dire, another one appeared. Over on Farmer Zac’s farm, yet another of my same-name friends decided she could no longer handle the emotional pressure of watching the man she was dating… date other women. Which would be extremely reasonable if she wasn’t on a dating show specifically designed around a man dating multiple women.
“Seeing Zac and Miranda dance together, obviously that’s hard to watch. I feel like I’m getting in the way of other people’s connections,” she explained, before deciding to pack her bags and head home.
This is the one that I do have the most sympathy for. The format genuinely would be difficult; watching somebody you are developing feelings for connect with other people sounds awful. But — and I cannot stress this enough — it is literally the premise of the show. It’s like signing up for MasterChef and being shocked when somebody asks you to cook.
Never have I seen a sadder Jessica. Image: Channel Seven.
Somewhere along the way, the reality television Jessicas seem to have forgotten what reality television is. Farmer Wants A Wife is not a surprise experience. Nobody is tricked into arriving at a farm and discovering there are cameras. Nobody accidentally wanders onto a dating show and learns, with horror, that they may have to compete with other contestants.
The entire premise is printed on the packaging, and I am beginning to suspect the Jessicas didn’t bother to watch the show before applying. Which is disappointing because, if you are going to represent the Jessicas of Australia on national television, the very least you could do is a little homework.
The most suspicious part of all of this, however, is that none of these women are going by Jess. Every single one is using Jessie or Jessica. As a loud and proud Jess, I don’t really know what to do with that information, but it feels extremely relevant.
Whatever the reason, the result is the same: there are now officially no Jessicas left on Farmer Wants A Wife.
And honestly? Thank God, because I don’t think our reputation could survive another self-elimination.
Men letting me down is something I’ve made peace with. Jessicas letting me down? That one still hurts.
Feature image: Channel Seven.
