President Cyril Ramaphosa’s statement this week that South Africans should use electricity sparingly if we are to salvage something from the energy grid, has a solid ring to it — never mind the nattering classes’ silliness. Yes, I know. Sit down at the back and pay attention! 

Blame and responsibility for rolling blackouts have been raised over and again — as we say in Afrikaans, die hele ding is holrug gery — so, in some ways, there is little to gain from banging on about it. This is not to say we should not keep the government’s feet to the fire. Not at all. The point is that since we cannot rely on the state (I sincerely believe that Ramaphosa and a very small group of people are doing the best possible), we the people may want to consider restoration or preservation of whatever energy we have as a common good, for which we all carry some responsibility. I feel a bit nauseated saying “we the people”; it makes me sound like a two-bit punk at a Trump rally. Anyway… 

There is no use in sitting back and complaining that it’s not our fault, it’s their fault, so they must fix it. We can blame Eskom — as we should — we can blame the ruling alliance, we can blame Ramaphosa, we can blame Pravin Gordhan, we can blame Thabo Mbeki, but guess what? The lights will not magically turn on.  

I am reminded of a story, the specifics of which elude me, but the story goes something like this: A small rural town’s water supply is undrinkable. The public blames the water department; the water department blames the municipality; the municipality blames the local politicians; the local politicians blame the unions; the unions blame the bosses and capitalism — and the blame game starts all over again. While all this is going on, the water remains undrinkable and the consumers look aghast at the drama before them. 

This, I believe, is where we are with our electricity supply. Let’s face it, it is in the interest of every South African that there is a reliable supply of electricity. Whether you’re a homeowner, a factory or business operator, a service provider, a teacher or a medical doctor. Sure, it’s easy to kvetch, but there is something to be said about taking up the cudgels, adjusting our patterns of consumption, adapting our behaviour and taking the common good more seriously. 

Some of us buy prepaid electricity. Out of habit, I switch off the lights when I leave a room, and turn off appliances when they are not in use. I use small solar panels to charge my cellphone and emergency lights. I installed gas for cooking and for heating water. I have no doubt that there are tens of thousands of people who behave responsibly when it comes to electricity conservation. Consider how we managed to conserve water during the crisis in Cape Town, how those practices remained part of our lives and how we changed consumption patterns.  

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We can’t rely on those who govern 

We know that illicit connections (call it what it is: theft), cable theft and refusal to pay for electricity are a blight on the electricity-supply network. The burden is then shifted on to those who pay, and on local, provincial and national government.  

We should stop waiting for the government to act and do what we can for the common good, not simply because there is little to no chance that the ruling alliance qua government will actually disconnect the electricity of people who don’t pay and collect millions of rands from municipalities that carry huge debts.  

The ANC faces an electoral conference in December, and pleasing its “structures” is a greater priority than going after the non-payment of bills. Then there is the general election in 2024. The ANC will, to be sure, consider its “structures” and votes as more important than the necessary disruption and fall-out from demanding the payment of outstanding electricity bills. 

As we reported this month, municipalities owe Eskom an estimated R50-billion. Amid all this, it is difficult to see the state recovering that money, turning off the electricity supply of people who haven’t paid or who refuse to pay, and achieving the full restoration of the electricity supply between now and the 2024 election.  

Faced with this, we can (and probably should) start adapting our lifestyles. Faced with instability for at least the next couple of years, we may need a “cultural” shift, an adaptation, away from a highly individualised political economy with attendant expectations, where electricity has effectively become a club good, and, alarmingly, even a private good — heaven knows, the state has failed to provide it as a public good — and to do what we can. 

I can already see the mockery ridiculing the appeal for each one of us to do whatever we can to reclaim the common good. To be sure, energy supply may be viewed as a common good — beyond simply being a public good. 

Indulge me… Drawing somewhat on Amartya Sen’s “humanistic” approach to development, I want to put forward the argument that we, as an engaged and active public, can start with acknowledging our own (individual) behaviour and how it can make or break the common good. We are free, individually, to install our own solar panels or electricity generators and care naught for our neighbours. We have to ask the question: Is this really the kind of country we want to live in?  

In broader terms, and with respect to development as a whole — surely energy supply is as much a development issue — by adopting Sen’s approach, we may well, in the longer term be able to improve the human condition, in so far as we are able. Yeah, yeah, I know that’s all highfalutin, but I come back again to the question of what type of country we want to live in. Is it one that is destroyed by a political party, or one that the people have pulled back from the edge of destruction?  

On this basis, I believe that preserving and shoring up what remains of SA’s electricity supply would enhance and expand individual choices and agency, not just to determine our own, individual paths, but to secure the common good. Never mind the nattering classes. This may be a greater challenge to the much-vaunted “spirit” of South Africans who, when the going gets tough, “pull together”. I don’t quite know how we can do it, but not trying is worse than sitting back and doing nothing. Now I really feel like a pinky-ring hustler. DM