The Thoughts of Rathbone - Canine Sage - on Water

As Rathbone, Jake the Greyhound and Lucy the Golden Retriever made their way across the common, they were met by an amazing sight.  Everywhere they looked, the common seemed to be submerged in water.  What was once a small pond now resembled a large lake, and what was a gentle stream, was now a swiftly running river.  Forced to take a different route home, a route which took them close to the main road, they were soon to discover why the common now resembled the Floridian Everglades.

'Rathbone!’  Exclaimed Lucy.  ‘Just look at that!  No wonder the common’s flooded.  How dare they claim there’s a water shortage’?  Lucy, a fast maturing and soon to be beautiful young lady, was at that age when almost every sentence seemed to contain at least one question. 

Only last week Rathbone had raced away pursuing an imaginary rabbit rather than respond to Lucy’s request to 'please explain the beneficial properties of Viagra.' 

But now, as he, Jake and the young Retriever gazed at the huge fountain of water shooting up from the road and into the heavens, Rathbone had to admit, that this time Lucy’s question regarding a water shortage, was a fair one.  And as they watched while yet another water company made an attempt to break the world water wasting record, and as drivers scrambled onto the roofs of their cars.  Rathbone was about to be asked.  'Why do we have hose-pipe bans?'  

Lucy pressed on, 'anyway, how can there possibly be a shortage of water?  I heard that even in the driest year we get enough rainfall to serve our needs twice over.  But all it takes is a few days of dry weather, and then in no time flat, they’re telling us to save our bath water and flush the toilets with it.  Why is that?'

Lucy was right of course, it did always seem to be raining somewhere.  But trying to explain the reasons for the potential shortage of H₂O, as the puddles on the common got deeper, and as the water crept ever closer toward his canine masculinity, might not be that easy.  Realising that another rabbit, imaginary or otherwise - unless it was an Olympic class swimmer - was unlikely to come to his rescue, Rathbone began his explanation. 

'The first thing you must understand Lucy, is that although there may be enough water, the water, or most of it, is in one place, and the people, or a lot of them, are in another.  That’s the water company’s story anyway.  And secondly, Lucy, what looks like water to you, could, in someone else’s eyes, look like something completely different.  Looking puzzled, it was now Jake’s turn to ask a question.  ‘But surely’ he said ‘water’s water, isn’t it?’

‘Well it’s definitely water when it causes chaos like this’.  (Rathbone gestures towards the highway as the police arrive in a motor launch)  And yes, it's still water when it comes through the roof and makes a stain on the bedroom ceiling.  But that liquid that’s pumped along pipes; and ends up in the kitchens, restrooms and bathrooms of the world.  That's definitely not water.  Not if you're a director of one of the water companies it isn't!  It's as though a metamorphosis has occurred.  What was once water, now, mysteriously and magically, becomes something else.  It becomes a rare and expensive product.  A means of profit.  A dividend for shareholders.  AND A DIRECTOR’S BONUS.'

‘Well I can understand why we can't have water for nothing,' said Jake.  'But just why is it so expensive.  And as for being rare’? 

'Imagine,' said Rathbone, 'that I'm the chief executive of a water company.  The graph in my office is showing that profits have risen tenfold over the last few years.  My fellow directors - whose salaries, bonuses, and enhanced pension funds are nearly as good as mine - are ecstatic.  The institutional investors think I'm the best thing since sliced bread; and my wife (who’s fallen in love with our new villa in the south of France) is sleeping with me again.  And how Lucy, Jake, do you think all this has been achieved’?

'Perhaps by providing a better product, a better service, and beating the pants off your competitors', Lucy suggested?

'Better products, better services, beating our competitors’, retorted Rathbone.  ‘Heaven forbid!  None of those things apply.  We don’t have competitors.  We're a monopoly’!

'Then perhaps you've made much needed investments into modernisation.  Provided new pumping stations, more reservoirs, a national water grid, etc,’ suggested Jake.

'You must be joking,’ said Rathbone.  ‘And anyway, building more reservoirs and creating a national water grid, could prove counterproductive to our marketing strategy’.

‘Counterproductive?  You mean that you might end up with too much water’ said Jake.

‘Too much?  No chance of that,’ said Rathbone ‘Why do you think we have world class leaks like this one.  They just don’t happen you know?  It takes years of neglect and planning.’

'Then, Mr Chief Executive,’ asked Lucy, 'how have you created this huge money-making haven for all you overweight felines’?

'Well,’ said Rathbone, ‘the first thing we did was to increase prices.  Water has been too cheap, too long.  Also, if we’re to achieve our ultimate objective of a half-a-bucket of water costing a bucketful of cash, it was necessary to convince our customers that water supplies were desperately short, and getting shorter.  For too long people had been conditioned into believing that water simply fell out of the sky.  That we got it for nothing.  Then we got some help.  Because thanks to the speculation regarding the effects of global warming.  And thanks to that picture (only slightly enhanced by us) on TV, showing a small boy standing in the middle of our deepest reservoir and not even getting his socks wet.  We were at last able to persuade our customers that water was indeed a rare commodity.  Not only that.  But a careful emphasis of the costs involved in cleaning up our beaches to comply with International law - sewage must now be dumped in the sea and not on the beach - not only allowed us to raise our prices, but to blame somebody else for making us do it.  (Hallelujah)  And as a bonus, we even made our customers feel guilty about the tiny drop of water they were using.  It’s hilarious really.  Not only do we have them furtively watering their gardens in the middle of the night, washing their undies in the bath water (if they dared take a bath that is) and only flushing the toilet on every third visit.  We’ve even making rapid progress with our metering programme.'

'Metering programme, yes I’ve heard about that’ said Lucy. ‘How does it work?’

'Oh it's our intention that everyone should eventually have a metered water supply.  Now that we've managed to convince our customers that water is scarcer than a politician telling the truth about his expenses; it should be relatively easy to persuade them that it's in all our interests to buy it by the metered amount.  You can see the plan.  If they know how much it's costing for every thimble full they use - they will use less.  And we’ll make even bigger profits.’

Lucy was puzzled.  'How will you make bigger profits if they use less?’

'By introducing a minimum charge of course.  This will mean that on average, everyone pays at least what they're paying now.  Which is a lot more than they used to pay.  And they will be using less water, too.  They use less; we store less - might even drain a few reservoirs and build a housing estate or two.  Then we tell them supplies are getting even shorter, which they will be.  Then we can put the prices up again.'

'Sounds like you've got it made,' said Lucy.

'Not quite,' said Rathbone, 'because not only are the regulators threatening to make us lower our prices, but they’re making us repair leaky mains as well - we’re only losing about 20% of our supplies that way now - and if we're not careful, our reservoirs will fill up, and our customers will start thinking there's plenty of water.  Which there might be?  And then they'll start complaining it's still too expensive.  Mind you if things get really serious we can always introduce our contingency plan.

'What's that' asked Lucy?

'We simply downsize.  Lose some labour - not senior management of course - and in no time at all, we would have all our old problems back.  Water mains would burst, there would be leaks all over the place, and before you can say H₂O, wastage levels would soon be back to the good old days.  We could even conjure up a picture of small boys playing football in the middle of what used to be our deepest reservoir - add a picture of a few sun bleached camel bones.  And in no time at all put our prices back up.  I've always fancied a luxury yacht’.  Just then Jake started to laugh.  

‘Rathbone’, said Jake, ‘I sure have learnt a lot today.  And if you’re right.  Those Water Board Executives must really love us boy dogs’. How come’? Said Lucy.  ‘Well,’ said Jake lifting his leg, ‘no one’s more selective with their sprinkler system than we are, are they’?  When the trio stopped laughing, Rathbone pointed towards the road.  ‘Look,’ he said, ‘the waters subsiding, they must have fixed the leak. Let’s make a dash for home.  It looks like rain’.