The Tragedy of The Commons 

Dear Parents, 

I would like to share a concept called The Tragedy of the Commons, which I believe explains what is happening in this group, Nyukani and our country. 

A long time ago, in a faraway land, there lived three farmers.  The farmers were Mr Chabalala, Mr Gezani and Mr Nkuna [of course, these are made-up names].  Chabalala was tall and dark, had broad shoulders and a deep voice.  Gezani was short, stout and had a big belly.  Nkuna was slender and soft-spoken.  Their land was rich; the soil was dark and full of nutrition, so much so that any crop could grow.  The grass was green and plentiful; their cattle were fat and glistened in the sun with their silky smooth hide.  With such abundance, they lived on common land without regard for borders or boundaries.

One day, Mr Chabalala, known for rearing the best cows, decided it would be good to breed more cattle and create a legacy for his children.  And so, instead of slaughtering for meat or selling to neighbouring villages, he grew his herd.  Then, Mr Gezani, seeing how wealthy his neighbour was becoming, decided to plant only one kind of crop, tomatoes, to gain many customers at the market.  The third farmer, Mr Nkuna, worried that the land would be used up, put up a high fence and raised bulldogs to protect his patch of fertile land.

Soon, Mr Chabalala’s herd was enormous, and he beamed with pride.  But his herd had overgrazed the land, and the grass was no longer growing.  Meanwhile, Mr Gezani regularly fought with Mr Chabalala as they contested the land use rights.  Mr Gezani was only interested in his tomatoes and could not care less about the cows.  But as a result of only planting one crop, the soil soon depleted its nutrition, and tomatoes struggled to grow.  Meanwhile, Mr Nkuna, who thought he protected himself, was invaded by the other two because he was the only one with good land.  

Thus, what was once a peaceful and neighbourly farming community became ruined.  What was the cause?  Quite simply, it is a concept called the tragedy of the commons.  Often, we find ourselves in a shared space, such as a WhatsApp Group, a school like Nyukani or a country like South Africa.  Instead of thinking about what is good for the community, we justifiably pursue personal interests without regard for what the consequences might be in the long run.  Hence, chasing what we think is good for ourselves becomes a tragedy of the commons.

Yesterday, I received a call from a parent complaining that others were posting irrelevant things on the school’s WhatsApp Group.  Indeed, he was right to complain.  Our conversation continued to other areas of the school’s administration, including the chronic problem of the collection of fees.  After all, the school collected only 10% of its fees by the 7th of August.  He confessed that he is one of the parents who pay whenever it suits him because there are no consequences.  He said, “If I tell my kids that by 7 pm you must be home, and then I don’t punish them when they come home at 8 pm, then I am at fault,” In other words, if he hears that somebody else is not paying fees and nothing happens to them, then why should he pay fees on time.  I argued that you pay fees because it’s the right thing to do and not for any other reason.  He retorted that it is human nature and that the school must lay down the law and be strict. 

In reflecting on our discussion, I remembered a passage in a book called The Book of Leadership and Strategy by the Masters of Huainan.  “PUNISHMENTS AND penalties are not enough to change habits; executions and massacres are not enough to prevent treachery.  Only spiritual influence is valuable.” 

We live in a country where it is customary to hear about corruption, rape, murder and other forms of treachery and not be alarmed.  We operate a school where it is normal not to pay fees and not even feel bad about the well-being of the teachers who stand in class the whole day raising future leaders.  We have a WhatsApp group where there is no sense of community, common cause and sensitivity for what is suitable for the greater good.  These are signals of deep spiritual corruption, and no laws or rules will fix it.  

In our private spaces, we must assess the cancer that has taken over our moral standards.  Simply put, we must change from within before we demand change outside.  The change I am referring to is easier said than done because it is much easier to be corrupt, militant or complain in a chaotic world.  But wouldn’t it be better if rules and laws were there but not known because people lived sincerely and in concert with one another? Wouldn’t it be better if the school’s initiatives and administration, such as e-learning, were working smoothly because parents were paying fees?  Wouldn’t it be better if we stopped talking about Ubuntu and started living it again – one person at a time?  Some might call me naive, but I believe it is possible.

If you want to post something on the WhatsApp group, ask whether it benefits other parents and whether it is relevant to the school.  If your account is outstanding, do not wait for a phone call from the finance office or the school to pull your child out of class.  Even from the school’s side, we should not wait for parents to complain before taking care of our duties and administration. All this needs to change, not because there is a stick, but because we all want the same thing; we want the best for the future of our children.

With Warmth:

Vusi Sindane