H.T to Bo.
The economist recently released an excellent report on water. But there are some parts of the report that disturbs me a little:

Industrial use takes about 60% of water in rich countries and 10% in the rest. The difference in domestic use is much smaller, 11% and 8% respectively. Some of the variation is explained by capacious baths, power showers and flush lavatories in the rich world. All humans, however, need a basic minimum of two litres of water in food or drink each day, and for this there is no substitute. No one survived in the ruins of Port-au-Prince for more than a few days after January’s earthquake unless they had access to some water-based food or drink. That is why many people in poor and arid countries—usually women or children—set off early each morning to trudge to the nearest well and return five or six hours later burdened with precious supplies. That is why many people believe water to be a human right, a necessity more basic than bread or a roof over the head.

From this much follows. One consequence is a widespread belief that no one should have to pay for water. The Byzantine emperor Justinian declared in the sixth century that “by natural law” air, running water, the sea and seashore were “common to all”. Many Indians agree, seeing groundwater in particular as a “democratic resource”. In Africa it is said that “even the jackal deserves to drink”.
A second consequence is that water often has a sacred or mystical quality that is invested in deities like Gong Gong and Osiris and rivers like the Jordan and the Ganges. Throughout history, man’s dependence on water has made him live near it or organise access to it. Water is in his body—it makes up about 60%—and in his soul. It has provided not just life and food but a means of transport, a way of keeping clean, a mechanism for removing sewage, a home for fish and other animals, a medium with which to cook, in which to swim, on which to skate and sail, a thing of beauty to provide inspiration, to gaze upon and to enjoy. No wonder a commodity with so many qualities, uses and associations has proved so difficult to organise.

If you read these sentences carefully, you will find:

• The reason why there is the right to water
• The first consequence of the right to water
• The second consequence of the right to water

What are they? Let’s return to the paragraphs:

Industrial use takes about 60% of water in rich countries and 10% in the rest. The difference in domestic use is much smaller, 11% and 8% respectively. Some of the variation is explained by capacious baths, power showers and flush lavatories in the rich world. All humans, however, need a basic minimum of two litres of water in food or drink each day, and for this there is no substitute. No one survived in the ruins of Port-au-Prince for more than a few days after January’s earthquake unless they had access to some water-based food or drink. That is why many people in poor and arid countries—usually women or children—set off early each morning to trudge to the nearest well and return five or six hours later burdened with precious supplies.  That is why [Reason] many people believe water to be a human right, a necessity more basic than bread or a roof over the head.
From this much follows. One consequence is a widespread belief that no one should have to pay for water. [First Consequence] The Byzantine emperor Justinian declared in the sixth century that “by natural law” air, running water, the sea and seashore were “common to all”. Many Indians agree, seeing groundwater in particular as a “democratic resource”. In Africa it is said that “even the jackal deserves to drink”. [ Example of first Consequence?]
A second consequence is that water often has a sacred or mystical quality that is invested in deities like Gong Gong and Osiris and rivers like the Jordan and the Ganges. [Second consequence] Throughout history, man’s dependence on water has made him live near it or organise access to it. Water is in his body—it makes up about 60%—and in his soul. It has provided not just life and food but a means of transport, a way of keeping clean, a mechanism for removing sewage, a home for fish and other animals, a medium with which to cook, in which to swim, on which to skate and sail, a thing of beauty to provide inspiration, to gaze upon and to enjoy. No wonder a commodity with so many qualities, uses and associations has proved so difficult to organise.

With all the respect to the economist, I think it is contestable that the human right to water causes either (1) the widespread belief that water is free or (2) that water is sacred and mystical.

Let’s discuss the first consequence. The economist is already quite prudent in not directly pointing out that human right to water means that water should be for free. Instead, it points out that human right to water makes people think that water should be free (a widespread belief). But is it true. Is it true that the human right to water makes people think that water should be free? It would require an empirical research to survey people’s opinion, not only about the human right to water, but also the term human rights in general. Is it true, that when something is labeled as “human rights”, then it should be free? This would make an interesting research in itself because it will have implications to human rights based access movements. My understanding is of course, that things which are labeled human rights, does not necessarily means that they are ‘free’. The right to education and the right to health are not free, although they are human rights. The right to vote is not free, because someone will have to provide and construct the ballots. Indeed, elections costs a lot.  

The examples of the first consequence is not really clear to me.  The second sentence (Justinian’s decree) does not really reinforce the assertion used on the main idea (human right to water causes the widespread belief that water should be free). But the sentence does provide an understanding that in the past people once regard water as ‘common to all’. This is correct. What is not correct is when they are tied to the main assertion. There is no relation between the human right to water and Justinian’s decree that water is a res communis. The two are different things. To put it in different way: Justinian does not say that running water is common to all, because it is a human right.

Now let’s move on to the second consequence: the right to water makes sacred or mystical qualities attached into it. I am almost certain that this is not the case. The Ganges were there, and was considered sacred, long before the term “Human Rights” were invented.

Anyway, probably it is me the one who misunderstood the Economist’s paragraphs above. Do you have a better suggestion?