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In the “Will and Grace” television series, the straight girl protagonist and the gay lead often get to do their, “I told you so” dance. Basically it’s a victory jig which involves much hip-swaying and booty-bopping, when they are proved right. It’s a dance which the members of the anti-golfing lobby will probably get to do sometime in the future, however without the accompanying smugness. For being proved right about the adverse effects of a golf course in Malta will be the most pyrrhic of victories, as it would necessarily mean that we would have to face the irreversible consequences of a very costly experiment.
On the matter of the protection of their fat parliamentary pay cheques, installing a whoppingly high parliamentary threshold (I believe even Burundi’s is lower), and the wisdom of placating squatters and financing their fancy new apartments, the PN and MLP are in complete convergence. They also agree on the need of a golf course. Why? We are told that it will result in 30,000 rich sugar daddies a year eager to splurge their nest-eggs on golfing holidays at Ghajn Tuffieha. Where does the 30,000 figure come from? We don’t know. It could have been pulled out of a hat and slowly ground into the national psyche. Everybody knows that if you repeat a rumour long enough, everybody will start believing it. Another thing which cannot be ascertained is why potential golfers should want to come here and not opt for nearby Spain, Normandy or Tunisia where there are hundreds of golf courses, and not a couple. So at this stage we don’t know if golfers are going to head over here, how many of them are coming over and how much they’ll be spending.
What we do know is what other countries have gone through. And that’s drought or desertification. On the 5 July, the British newspaper The Independent reported that Spain and Portugal were being turned into dustbowls by the insatiable demand for water required by the 160 plus golf courses in Spain. The chronic scarcity of water in the region is being exacerbated by the need for water, ancient springs are drying up, and water is becoming contaminated with salts and nitrates. Wells plunge 600 metres, the water table is falling and the outlook seems bleak. Although recycled water should be used to irrigate the golf courses, this is not always adhered to. Recycling plants need energy too – another drain on resources. So as our elected politicians trample on, blithely disregarding these worrying factors and lead us into the desert instead of out of it, we should go about rehearsing our dance. It will be more of a rain dance than a victory dance though.
Lou Bondi told me that he’s waiting with bated breath for me to say it, so I’ll put him out of his breathless discomfort. I can’t wait for the day when a Labour government is in power, when Labour ministers are approached for hand-outs by the people they have shamelessly egged on while in opposition, to see them being turned away for the same reasons which would have been described as “callous” or “insensitive” if utilised by the Nationalist or any other political party. Of course that day will never come about, because the Labour party will insist that the prevailing circumstances would have changed, that the situation is different, that it has to move with the times. As any teenager would say, “Whatever”. The fact remains that both major political parties act in precisely the same manner, do the same things and replicate each other’s actions. They then have the cheek to accuse each other of the same things which they are guilty of. On these lines we had the kerosene price hike, the health care financial reforms, and lately, environmental cock-ups.
According to Nationalist lore, the 1980s were the Dark Ages for the Maltese environment. It was a time of unbridled speculation, when building permits were given out on ministerial whim, with Lorry Sant being the minister in question. The worst thing about Lorry Sant was his total control over land-use in Malta and that there was no way of checking him if he was deadset on a particular project, however ill-advised. History repeats itself. The Prime Minister is hell-bent on getting his golf course, he has ordained what is supposed to be the ideal spot and is now twiddling his thumbs impatiently for MEPA to rubber-stamp his perfect project. It’s all over bar the shouting. If we’re back to having decisions of the sort decided entirely by the Prime Minister, we should dismantle MEPA and utilise its offices as a multi-storey car park, as an alternative to the park-and-ride scheme.
Anybody who braved the traffic, the heat and the dust to make it to the trade fair in the last two weeks must have been momentarily delighted to be presented with a complimentary flight ticket to Tunisia upon payment for the forty cents entry fee. However any visions of sandy beaches, buttock-braising camel rides, brass lanterns and leather poufs would soon have evaporated upon learning about the real costs of getting to Tunisia. Because of course, the free flight was just that – taxes were not included and booking accommodation separately would have mean dishing out much more than paying for a package holiday.
The many people who could put two and two together did just that, realised that the offer was a worthless gimmick and chucked away their free flight ticket just in time before those littering laws become enforceable. What did the advertisers get out of it? Close to nothing, unless a learning experience counts for something. Special offers, like other forms of marketing, are a way of attracting new customers and retaining old ones. Here in Malta, we have turned this marketing form into a ridiculous exercise where businesses grudgingly offer meagre rewards to customers who have to jump through hoops to acquire them. Giving them useless rewards or pieces of plastic tat is going to prove to be as popular as a gift of roll of belly-button fluff, and is unlikely to foster a positive attitude amongst customers.
You’re not going to engender much of a feel-good factor either if you insist on introducing loyalty schemes which require an impossibly high number of points for the customer to receive a discount or reward. Customers need to feel rewards are achievable, otherwise they’ll feel cheated by the company offering the scheme. And here I think that it’s Airmalta which is not doing its customers, or itself, any favours with its frustrating Flypass Scheme. Besides having to amass a huge number of points to get to fly to somewhere beyond Etna, it’s quite difficult to actually start acquiring points. That’s because you first have to get yourself a temporary card, and then tot up 10,000 points to be given your permanent card. Then, and only then, can you finally start gathering points which can be exchanged for rewards or benefits. Where did AirMalta get this annoying idea from? It seems to be inspired by the Biblical story where Jacob spent seven years working for Laban to earn his daughter Rachel’s hands in marriage, only to be given her ugly sister Leah, and having to slog for another seven to finally get his girl. Customers don’t need AirMalta’s Leah temporary card, they just want to be able to tot up some points to be able to slash off a fraction of AirMalta’s exorbitantly high plane fares. In marketing speak it’s called lowering the scheme entry level and making redemption of awards easier. In other words, it’s giving the customer a little something without so many strings attached. Quite an easy concept to grasp, and probably not one to be the subject of indignant letters to this paper. Stingy and touchy? AirMalta should realise that’s not a nice combination.
cl.bon@global.net.mt
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