The Kenyan government officials have been using coercion and threats in their bid to coerce the Kenyan parliament to pass the 3% house levy.
Public opinion is evidently not on their side. These officials have been heard bragging that the levy shall be passed at all costs. Their braggadocio and pride are becoming offensive to Kenyans, to say the least.
Perhaps Kenyan government officials can learn something from history.
One eighteenth-century monarch, Frederick the Great, used Psychology in the promotion of the potato as a domestic crop, transforming something worthless and unwanted into something valuable through the elixir of psychology. The reason he wanted eighteenth-century Prussian peasants to cultivate and eat the potato was that he hoped that they would be less at risk of famine when bread was in short supply if they had an alternative source of carbohydrates; it would also make food prices less volatile. The problem was that the peasants weren’t keen on potatoes; even when Frederick tried coercion and the threat of fines, they simply showed no interest in eating them. Some people objected because the potato was not mentioned in the Bible, while others argued that since dogs wouldn’t eat potatoes, why should humans?
So, having given up on compulsion, Frederick tried subtle persuasion. He established a royal potato patch on the grounds of his palace. He declared that it would be a royal vegetable that could only be consumed by members of the royal household or with royal permission. If you declare something highly exclusive and out of reach, it makes us all want it much more – call it ‘the elixir of scarcity’. Frederick knew this and so posted guards around his potato patch to protect his crop but gave them secret instructions not to guard the patch too closely. Curious Prussians found they could sneak into the royal potato patch and could steal, eat and even cultivate this fabulously exclusive vegetable for themselves. Today, the potato – which is unsurpassed as a source of nutrients and energy – is as popular in Germany as it is everywhere else.
In nineteenth-century Prussia, a glorious feat of alchemy saved the public exchequer when the kingdom’s royal family managed to make iron jewellery more desirable than gold jewellery. To fund the war effort against France, Princess Marianne appealed in 1813 to all wealthy and aristocratic women there to swap their gold ornaments for base metal, to fund the war effort. In return, they were given iron replicas of the gold items of jewellery they had donated, stamped with the words ‘Gold gab ich für Eisen’, ‘I gave gold for iron’. At social events thereafter, wearing and displaying the iron replica jewellery and ornaments became a far better indication of status than wearing gold itself. Gold jewellery merely proved that your family was rich, while iron jewellery proved that your family was not only rich but also generous and patriotic.
As one contemporary observed, ‘Iron jewellery became the fashion of all patriot women, thus showing their contribution in support of the wars of liberation.’
Yes, precious metals have a value, but so does meaning, the addition of which is generally less expensive and less environmentally damaging. After all, thinking about what gold jewellery is actually for reveals it to be an extremely wasteful way of signalling status. But it was perfectly possible, with the right psychological ingredients, to allow the iron to do this job just as well.
The Kenyan government and its ‘economists’ may perhaps learn something from these examples. Blatant lies will not take this government that far. Use Psychology or behavioural economics to persuade Kenyans about the importance of the housing levy, and they shall support it en masse.
