Joanna Yap
A RECENT conversation with a friend yielded an unexpected but valuable lesson on how to evaluate the true value of money.
Over steaming kopi-o, she shared with me the dilemma she felt over leaving her previous job for her current one.
Her job at that time paid much more, had better benefits and better potential in terms of career advancement. On the other hand, the new job offer pays third less and cannot provide good career exposure as well.
When she said she would be taking up the new job, a few people questioned her rationale. They could not see any good reason why someone would leave a well-compensated position for something seemingly less enticing.
But as she explained it to me, it couldn’t have made better sense.
“What finally tipped the scales in favour of the new job wasn’t so much what I would lose compared to my old job,” my friend explained.
“It was the price I was paying to be at my old job.”
She had suffered frequent bouts of poor health, declining emotional well-being and hardly had any time to socialise with her family and friends.
Even though the pay was good and she loved the industry she was in, she was reaching burnout physically, mentally and emotionally.
In the end, she realised the price required to perform at her old job was too high and she didn’t want to pay that price anymore.
My friend’s words have given me much food for thought.
In our present society, money talks and gets things done. The more money one has, the louder one’s voice becomes and the more attentively others will listen. In short, money brings power – no money, no talk.
So it’s no surprise that many issues which preoccupy modern society tend to revolve round the issue of money – or rather the lack of it.
For instance, take the long-standing issue of building and maintaining highways throughout Sarawak, estimated to be as high as RM16 billion.
Recently, the Infrastructure Development and Communications Minister was reported as saying the reason why Sarawak could not have world-class highways was not that the government did not want to but that it was not feasible for private companies due to the relatively low volume of road users.
The minister appeared to be saying the government could not afford to build highways on its own without private sector players – a fair reason justified on financial concerns. The monetary cost is deemed too prohibitive.
However, can we afford not to have good highways?
There are other prices to be paid for not having a good highway infrastructure and transport network in place. For examples, higher cost of goods; inhibited flows of commerce; loss of lives from road accidents and inability of rural communities to access quality healthcare and education.
Although the price paid is not always denominated in currencies, there, however, have to be good returns on investments. Shareholders need to be fearless enough to insist they get what they have paid for.
If a shareholder borrowed in order to invest and the investment subsequently resulted in a loss, it would incur debts which must be repaid plus any interest.
Take for example the many dams said to be required to provide power for SCORE, the keystone on which the state government has built its promises of more jobs, greater socio-economic prosperity and overall higher quality of living for all.
Rural Sarawakians whose communities will be flooded by the dams will pay the high price of their homes, land, means of living, cultural identity and traditions in hope of getting a better future for themselves and their children.
Nature will also pay a high price in terms of extensive logging, loss of eco-diversity and greatly disrupted local ecosystems.
The question on everyone’s minds is that will these investments be worth it?
Based on the experiences of the Sungai Asap community, it is safe to say the returns of their investment for the Bakun dam have been found sorely lacking.
Two decades on, they are still struggling to eke out a living, having yet to reap the promises on which their hopes were sowed. Unless something is done soon to turn the situation around permanently, the future generations of Bakun will continue to pay the heavy debt.
Seen in this light, the current resistance from Baram folk towards the proposed Baram dam and the cautious response from the state government is understandable.
Since my conversation with that friend, I’ve found that evaluating monetary and non-monetary price tags to be a most useful exercise.
Certain details which tend to get lost among public relations spin, statistics and accounting, come more clearly into focus when non-monetary costs are placed on par with financial and economic factors.
For example, how much can cigarette smokers and their families afford to pay to support the habit?
How much can employers and employees afford not to promote and adopt a more healthy lifestyle?
Can our economy and society afford to maintain a political system which is still largely based on matters of race and religion?
What does it cost our country’s economy to not enforce a minimum wage?
What will it cost Malaysia’s future to keep the current level of excise duties on cars and the AP system?
How much are Malaysians willing to pay for development?
Can we afford to adopt and enforce stricterenvironmental legislation if it means not maximising foreign investment potential?
Can our national economy and security afford to keep importing in cheap foreign labour?
What is the cost of accepting leaders from the opposite side of the political divide whose characters are less than honourable but who are willing to hop over for the right price just for political expediency?
Can the opposition and government afford to keep one eye closed over certain leaders’ unethical and immoral discretions compared to the political cost of booting them out?
The prices that we pay for certain things are not always monetary. In matters of national interest, the decision- makers need to give them proper weight and due consideration before they commit to any course of action in matters affecting public interest and well-being whether in the short or long term.
The public must jealously guard their positions as shareholders and kingmakers, and the media as impartial watchdogs, over those who have been entrusted with making those decisions to ensure what they do is in line with the public’s interests and hold them accountable to what they have promised.
Otherwise, we may one day find ourselves regretfully paying a price we were never willing to pay in the first place.