It was idyllic. The 20 farmers from around the district patted themselves on the back. The first farmers market had been a roaring success after the families who had struggled for to sell their vegetables and fruit on rickety tables at the entrances to their farms for years agreed to centralize every Saturday to sell their wares. In the village, where it would be easier for the customers and save them petrol and time. "After all", Miss Evans had commented in that first meeting, "We all have different produce to offer, and the same family which buys lettuce from me will need potatoes from her and onions from him."
There was much happy nodding, agreement and excitement.
For the first season it went so well. The Jones family had been able to buy a much-needed car with the increased sales of their tomatoes. The Smiths were so happy with booming apple sales that they accidentally fell pregnant one night celebrating their new-found community and family of choice. The O'Hares got excited seeing the Jones' tomatoes and wondered why they had never thought of growing them, and so they saved some seeds and before long they had 200 new tomato plants merrily flowering out back of the barn too!
Life was good. Everyone was allowed to make their own choices and decisions, and everyone helped with the shared tasks. Centralization had been a wonderful idea!
When the O'Hares started harvesting large buckets of tomatoes, most of the other vendors were pleased. The O'Hares had done it hard, their roof had holes and they deserved success. But the excess of tomatoes drove the price down, and the Jones family sold less due to more competition. They started to wonder about the wisdom of buying the car, which was expensive to maintain. The Smiths were delivered, much to everyone's surprise, of triplets! They suddenly had no time to tend to their cabbages and so they used the profits they had saved from the wonderful months of sales prior to buy some cheap plastic toys. It was all they could afford. And, after all, toys were high on their radar and no one else was selling them. The other farmers wondered about the wisdom of allowing the Smiths to sell plastic toys at the Farmers Market, but no one felt empowered enough to confront them. Despite everyone talking about it at home behind closed doors, there was a tacit, unspoken agreement that there was no need for heavy handed centralized control. After all, it didn't affect the sales on anyone else's apples, right, so what was the harm?
It was an unseasonably cold and wet year that year. The farmers grumbled about the rain and the cold which limited their customers. At the December meeting, possibly due to everyone having heavy colds and maybe due to a little too much spiced wine being served, the centralized collective of farmers agreed to all contribute funds towards a big, weather-proof shed. The Gardener family suggested an air-conditioning system too, as the shed would be VERY HOT for the rest of the year, and the motion was carried almost unanimously amidst coughs and snuffles.
Slowly the Farmers Market began to struggle. Three other families found themselves short on time, and eventually the collective agreed to contribute a little money each month towards a paid administrator, who could help with marketing, to relieve those families from the burden of endless discussion and meetings. Slowly, the other families felt no need to keep coming either, as the administrator was doing a good job and was, after all, being PAID to be there, and they weren't. A plant virus did the rounds of the district and 6 more families found themselves with little produce to sell. Like the pioneering O'Hare's they too, bought cheap imported goods that the villagers seemed to want and were very happy to pay for. After all, they had financial commitments towards the cost of the building and the administrator.
And so it continued.
One day an optimistic and arguably naive reporter from the famous Steem based Eco Living Weekly magazine stumbled in to the local bar and was chatting with the locals. The village families complained that people now bought fruit at the next village, since their own market had few fruit offerings anymore. Times were hard and 'things' were not what they had once been. The earnest, probing reporter was overheard to cynically question if the village's troubles weren't all fueled by centralization led by the evil corporation started and now owned by the once diligent co-op administrator.
Really?
The pure energy of centralization had brought them the Farmers Market in the first place, just as it had inspired the eclectic families and lonely individuals who had formed the new local Steem eco-village. Everyone else in the village had embraced the centralization of the eco-village's own steem-based token, and were optimistic that as long as everyone continued to use and promote it, that the token would thrive and appreciate in value.
Me? I sat in the corner swilling an excellent merlot slowly in my glass and wondered.
Wasn't it the individuals who had corrupted and destroyed the Farmers Market? Wasn't it centralization which had fueled their community dream? Wasn't it their desire for comfort, their lack of agreed values, their poor communication, their inclination towards ease which had actually started the rot?
What do you think?
I'd love your comments and responses below.
The incredible Steem magazine, Eco Living Weekly? Check it out!
Prepared in response to @ecotrain's Question of The Week: "In What Ways Has Centralization Failed Us?"
