Farmer prefers fruit to rot rather than sell

What is 'Market Price' when there is no market?

    A farmer works hard in the build-up to harvest and arrives at market with a barrel of freshly picked fruit. He is aware of the value of his produce - but there is only one buyer. And the buyer is poor and does not have enough money to meet the farmer’s price. So, what does the farmer do? What does ‘market price’ mean in such circumstances?

    He refuses to accept less than the ‘market price’ and prefers to let the fruit rot in the barrel, the buyer and his family go hungry, and do without the money he could have had in his wallet. As far as lose/lose/lose situations go, the farmer has nailed it.

    As most readers will know, I have a vested interest in the subject of this column but, as long as it is declared, no harm should be done. I have worked as a commentator for the SABC for 33 years. The corporation has been in steady decline for much of that time until recent years during which it went into freefall.

    Auckland Park, its Johannesburg headquarters, is a behemoth of unsustainable, almost comical inefficiency. Built in 1972 at the ‘height’ of apartheid when money was no object, it was a state-of-the-art broadcasting hub with enough studios to service America, never mind South Africa.

Today there are literally kilometres of unused, decaying corridors and facilities which have been unused for decades. Despite the culling of thousands of editorial and production jobs there are still enough security personnel to guard a vault of gold, although most kit of value went missing years ago.

    In all those years as freelancer, however, one thing remained a constant: The Sports Department never lost the desire to get the job done. Ever-decreasing funds eventually led to less rights and less events, and even commentating ‘off-tube’ when it became too expensive to be at the venue. One of those old studios was dusted off and the commentary team, armed with our own packed lunches and bottled water, did our best.

    Then, two years ago, the radio arm of the SABC realised that they could make more money (or even, some money) by ditching ball-by-ball commentary in favour of a commercial model featuring DJs, music and, yes, advertising. There was a modest outcry, even by some people at CSA. Ball-by-ball had been a feature of peoples’ lives for generations. But nobody did anything about it.

    Several corporate sponsors said they were interested in investing in radio coverage, but nobody took the lead. Nobody made it happen. Online commentary is undoubtedly the future – it is, indeed, the present in some countries – but South Africa is many years away from a society which has affordable access to the internet.

    All that was left was free-to-air to television. SABC is so strapped for cash that the commentators were asked, and agreed to, pay for some of our own flights and accommodation to make the production for the current Australia tour work. It was a significant step up, or down, from taking our own sandwiches and drinks. But, believe it or not, the commitment is that strong to helping under and less-privileged cricket lovers to enjoy the Proteas. Men and women.   

    The SABC is very far from perfect. Nobody would deny that it is deeply flawed. But it’s the only option CSA have to show the highest levels of the game to the vast majority of the population. Professional cricket, like every other business, has commercial imperatives. In this instance, there are also social imperatives to consider. But the crucial point to remember is that, not only are they not mutually exclusive, they are, infact, inter-dependent.

    CSA’s Chief Executive, Pholetsi Moseki, is a numbers man, a career accountant. Which is probably what the organisation needed, to be fair. He began his journey at CSA as the CFO and was surrounded by one of the most inept, short-sighted and self-serving groups of amateurs imaginable.

    His task was to put together a sustainable financial plan, making ruthless cuts wherever possible while keeping the lights on in the office and the players on the field. He was appointed CEO on an interim basis in the wake of the disastrous tenure of Thabang Moroe and stayed in a temporary capacity for well over a year while the search for a full-time CEO continued, one with a ‘feel’ for the unique nuances, needs and purpose of the game.

    Many candidates were approached and some were interested but a combination of the organisation’s miserable administration record and, let’s be honest, a remuneration package which could not be described as internationally competitive, led to a blank. But still, Moseki had stemmed the hemorrhaging of funds and was a solid, reliable appointee.

    His decisions have been brutally pragmatic, so far. Or pragmatically brutal. His comments in mitigation and explanation have been curious, however. To say the least. The decision to send a Test team to New Zealand in February next year, denuded from selection by approximately 60 players with SA20 contracts, was described as showing “our commitment to the ICC Future Tours Programme.”

    He said CSA were equally “committed to our relationship with the SABC” and spoke of the “importance of taking the game to the people”, moments after refusing them the rights to show the Australia series, five months after the national team last played. It is, to say the least, confusing. When you have a barrel of apples to sell to hungry, eager buyers, and no alternative buyers, why would you not conclude the best deal possible? Unless you were a career bean-counter.