The government is one cook too many
Imagine for a minute Milton Friedman at a Pakistani wedding. Mr Friedman would be pleased to see the proliferation of wedding halls around the city, a sign of the market working flawlessly to shoulder the needs of its public, although he might be chaffed at the idea of attending a wedding at the army-run garrison wedding factories. As the clock strikes 9PM, Mr Friedman will notice an upheaval and a general air of excitement as people shuffle expectantly towards where the food is about to be served. Being sensitive to cultural norms of foreigners, Mr Friedman follows lead, heading towards the wedding feast.
By the time he reaches the table, Mr Friedman is aghast at the talk of some ‘one-dish’ regulation which allows caterers to serve just one dish, as the name quite clearly implies. Mr Friedman is aghast, sweating, one look at the table confirms his worst fears, the one-dish regulation weights heavy on Mr Friedman. Anyone from the University of Chicago would find the one-dish regulation unpalatable at best. Laissez Faire economists tend to be near allergic to market interventions by the government, let alone one as blatant as the ‘one-dish’ regulation.
If you have supreme belief in the market, then the one-dish policy in Punjab ought to make you cringe. Surely, with such an extreme measure, the market’s work in delineating the limits and bounds of supply and demand is hampered. The government is one cook too many. Forcing people to spend their money a certain way allocates expenses to areas where money would not have been spent under normal circumstances. Where people might have ordered four or five dishes for their wedding, they have the option of only one.
If you have supreme belief in the market, then the one-dish policy in Punjab ought to make you cringe. Surely, with such an extreme measure, the market’s work in delineating the limits and bounds of supply and demand is hampered
Businesses and organisations associated with the supply of food and beverages suffer revenue losses due to such tight, interventionist regulations. The government bureaucracy, already under immense stress, has to go about implementing another regulation, amongst a host of other regulations, exemptions, licenses and what not. Precious policing resources are diverted towards ensuring that there is compliance to the rule. Black markets emerge and people find ways of bypassing the law, as is the case with the proliferation of weddings at rented ‘farm houses’.
More often than not, such regulations fail and slowly lapse into oblivion, as the issue recedes from the bureaucrats’ and politicians’ minds.
This raises a deeper question of our right to choose our options and whether the government has the mandate at all to impose its version of socially equalising steps on its citizens. How and why does the government feel it has the right to enforce such steps? Perhaps a look at our culture might offer clues, with people seeing the government in an almost paternalistic sort of way. General support among Pakistanis for price controls on nearly everything belies a support for government intervention in general and extends into the concept of the patronage based Pakistani state. But the above is more a symptom rather than a convincing argument in favour of such regulation.
A very real problem that arises from implementing this one policy is that of degree. There is general support among people for the one-dish regulation, it makes the process of arranging the whole wedding affair that much more easier; being less harsh on the individual’s finances and definitely less taxing intellectually. But the question of degree remains; where does one draw the line? For the sake of social harmony and equality, why not just one type of car or one make of pants or one line of Shalwar Kameez. Why stop at just the one-dish rule? Surely, just having one car across the county would definitely signify greater social equality than the status quo of allowing expensive, flashy foreign imports into the country.
There are no philosophical limitations to extending the one-dish across all and every sector of the economy, although practical limitations certainly exist in the form of limitations on the government’s ability to legislate upon such regulations. The one-dish rule was easier to legislate and implement because catering companies have little or no influence among policy makers, the size of each company and the sector in general would make it near impossible for them to challenge the regulation through lobbying while collusion and cooperation among so many companies is always a difficult endeavour. The automotive sector, on the other hand, has companies that are large enough to arm twist the government into legislating in favour of said companies. Of course, not implying that that happens, but just that it could.
To be fair to the regulation, it does lessen the social pressure hosting lavish multi-cuisine weddings in favour of the toned down one-dish affair by strictly laying out the boundaries for us. People no longer have to fret whether what they’ve done is enough or not, what has been arranged has been ordained and the individual has nothing to do with it. Blame the state if you must, but not the individual.
There are no philosophical limitations to extending the one-dish across all and every sector of the economy, although practical limitations certainly exist in the form of limitations on the government’s ability to legislate upon such regulations
On the flip side, however, it allows us to enter into our comfort zone, the regulation propagates a sort of intellectual laziness that comes with having things decided for yourself. Because the regulation exists, there is no clash of ideas, it suppresses situations where other people might have been brave enough to challenge the status quo; through, for example, braving the social pressure of having to host lavish wedding parties and going for more muted, austere affairs. Because of the regulation, no one is given the opportunity enlighten us on other less conventional way of doing things. All our opinions, thoughts and intellect are mashed into one bland regulation leaving little room for any personal challenges to the status quo.
Seen from a holistic perspective, does the legislation even result in a reduction of wedding related expenses or are those expenses just reallocated to other areas where wealth can be displayed. Does reducing food-costs only lead to these costs being allocated to perhaps buying more gold? Or having the same rupee amount in decorations? That could entirely be the case but despite such reallocation, the legislation does its job of eliminating at least the social pressure of organising a grand feast.
The pressures created by such regulations on the supply side need to be looked at too. Catering companies suffer on account of such regulation, as their focus of work is narrowed and the range of prices will always lie between a band, you can only spend so much on a one dish occasion. This of course has the effect of stymying growth in the industry. Innovation also takes a hit as there is little incentive to go beyond your regular gravy and rice combination. There is a general loss of efficiency in the industry as the regulation places too many perimeters around the company’s operations, resulting in stunted growth across the industry.
Opinions gleaned from individuals suggest that the regulation is seen in a mostly positive light. It would be hard to nit-pick a policy that has worked to the perceived advantage of so many people. That the policy has made life easier for many and is widely acclaimed would be reason enough to give it a favourable vote. But Mr Friedman, he would disapprove.