Put a Price on Water

August 30, 1965

As the drought in the Northeast approaches crisis proportions, Federal, state and city officials propose desperate measures to increase the water supply. President Johnson signs a $185 million desalting-research bill and calls upon science and industry to develop plans for desalting plants to produce 100 million gallons a day—five years from now. But prior to last week’s Delaware River agreement, New York officials feared that the city might run out of water before next spring. Mayor Wagner says the city has examined every proposal “from tapping the Niagara to sawing off a part of a glacier and floating it into New York Harbor.”

But increasing the supply of water is only one half the problem. The other half, about which something can be done immediately, is to reduce wasteful consumption of water. New York has issued a series of emergency orders. Shut down all fountains. Don’t flush streets. Don’t refill swimming pools. Don’t sprinkle your lawn. Don’t wash your car. Don’t even serve a glass of water in a restaurant unless it is asked for. The latest orders severely cut down on the hours for using air-conditioning units.

EXHORTATION

Such rules are (to some extent unavoidably) arbitrary, inflexible and procrustean. They are creating conflicts. New York City’s water supply department accuses its parks department of illegally watering its public golf courses at night. Parks Commissioner Morris retorts: “We shouldn’t throw 20,000 players off the courses just because of a little bit of water. . . . I flush my toilet only about once a day now and I take a bath only every other day. If you figure up the water I save by giving up these things, you’ve got almost enough for the greens.” And people who work in a round-the-clock business in a modern building without openable windows wonder how many hours they will be expected to sweat or suffocate.

Of course there can be exhortation to the citizens to save water. There has been no lack of it. It is repeated every day. But there is a certain futility about it, and the reason is clear. The individual citizen knows that there is a water shortage. But he may reason: what I personally save will affect less than a millionth of the total consumption. What difference will that make? Moreover, he may darkly suspect that others are cheating—taking long showers, neglecting leaky plumbing, maybe letting the cold water run all night just to cool the room.

EFFECT OF METERS

Yet while New York City officials are toying with all sorts of far-off, far-out schemes for increasing the water supply, they have until now ignored or rejected the simplest way to cut down the consumption—to charge everybody in proportion to the water he uses. Mayor Wagner admits that he has “always opposed universal metering in New York City,” but now his own study panel recommends it.

To install meters, as far as practicable, for every consuming family, would merely apply for water the same market principle and price system that applies nearly everywhere else. When anything—water, or food, or housing, or doctors’ services or hospital care—is provided “free,” or below real cost, it is bound to be wastefully used.

Do New Yorkers waste water? Well, 8 million of them consume 1 billion gallons of water a day—about 125 gallons a person. As each person drinks less than a gallon, there must be immense opportunities for saving in the other 124 gallons.

The knowledge that there was a meter ticking the pennies away would give a constant incentive for economy. Then each person could save water at the points where he himself thought he could best spare it. When water became scarce the rates could be doubled. Or a penalty surcharge could be put on anything above a basic allowance per person.

Ten years ago, 73 percent of Philadelphia’s water was delivered through meters and the city consumed 400 million gallons a day. Today, with 100 percent metering, Philadelphia uses only 325 million gallons a day.

The moral is obvious. People economize on what they pay for.