A drought had severely affected Auckland’s water supply, and formal water restrictions were imposed.
I learned an important lesson about how precious and finite water was. But all through that crisis, my family didn’t once buy bottled water.
Even now I’m not sure who regularly buys bottled water in New Zealand. Our tap water is drinkable – Havelock North’s contamination crisis aside – and I’d certainly much rather dip into my wallet for a coffee.
Yet according to the NZ Beverage Council, Kiwis are buying more bottled water with purchases up by more than 25% in the past two years.
Whoever these Kiwis are, they’re not alone in this trend, with Americans reportedly consuming enough bottled water each week for the plastic to circle the globe twice round.
There’s no arguing bottled water is a profitable business. There are even water sommeliers at some of the world’s top restaurants.
Why then would NZ let export water-bottling companies use 28 million litres of its valuable pristine resource a year for free? It is a finite resource, and it’s precious.
It’s an election year and public pressure says that’s about to change, and so it should.
Water-bottling companies will be charged 10c a litre if the Green Party gets into government in September, as the first stage of plans to charge commercial water users. Labour has also talked about charging commercial water users.
What might be downstream for the agricultural sector?
With numbers in the millions, the amount of pristine NZ water leaving our shores in drinking bottles sounds like an ocean. But actually, it’s a drop in the ocean compared with the amount of water the agricultural sector uses each year.
One oft-quoted example is that it takes an estimated 250 litres of water to produce one litre of milk. That’s a lot of water for a family like mine that downs eight litres of milk a week.
But there are fields to be irrigated, animals to be fed. It’s a different kind of business.
The agricultural sector needs water to survive, and yes, they’re indirectly profiting from using a lot of water, but does that mean they should be lumped with a levy like those water-bottling companies? Can one commercial water user be charged and not another? What about limits on water-take rather than a charge per litre?
For me, and other city friends I asked, this issue raises more questions than answers. Yes, we agree water is precious and finite, but should it really be commoditised like oil and gold? Water bottling proves it already is.
The undercurrent here is what’s gone before when we start talking about freshwater quality and farming. First, the OECD pointed at dairying for our rivers’ declining freshwater quality, and now we find out we’re giving the fresh stuff away.
Like it or not, the two issues are linked in the minds of many people, which means how farmers and the wider agricultural sector respond to this issue is important.
Federated Farmers has added its voice to the mix, saying any water charges to the sector would inevitably trickle down to the consumer, leading to increased prices for milk, fruit, vegetables and meat, not to forget electricity.
Still, a public perception test looms.
If the agriculture sector says we shouldn’t charge water-bottling companies a levy, then it could be perceived as a defensive position, rather than standing up for protecting our freshwater.
If it pays for water, the agriculture sector will be sending a clear message to this country and the rest of the world that our resource is valuable and worth protecting.
Either way, we’ll all pay in the end.
