Body
Several weeks ago we were approached by Jean Lee of Associated Press about a story on North Korea. Lee had a chance to visit two showcase farms near Pyongyang, but was curious about how an ostrich farm “fit into the larger picture of farming in North Korea.” Um, no kidding!
Ostriches are a versatile bird, generating low-fat meat, eggs, hides and feathers that are used for a variety of specialized purposes. Do we need we point out how ridiculous it is for North Korea to be investing in such an activity?
(Actually, given a choice between ostriches or nukes, we'd prefer that they sink their money into the bird ranch, but we digress.)
As the following section of Lee’s excellent piece shows, the ostrich story encapsulates virtually everything that is wrong with North Korea’s economic policymaking: top-down decision-making driven by whim (“Kim Jong Il likes to stroll around the farm”); complete failure to think about allocative efficiency, opportunity costs and the logic of comparative advantage (quilts for ostriches?); and output that is unlikely to generate much revenue or foreign exchange and in fact serves the elite at the expense of the masses (ostrich is apparently now a delicacy at some of Pyongyang’s high-end restaurants). Lee gets it exactly right in noting that the ostrich farm and the country's food shortages--outside Pyongyang that is--are two sides of the same coin.
NKorea food shortage worst in years despite farms
JEAN H. LEE, Associated Press
….
Immaculate and organized, the ostrich farm in the Pyongyang suburb of Sunan sits on rolling hills with verdant landscaping, thanks to the 560,000 trees planted on what was once bare ground. Kim Jong Il ordered the gawky birds imported from Africa at $10,000 a pop in the late 1990s, said guide Kim Jin Ok, giving The Associated Press a private tour.
But ostriches are native to warm climates, and North Korea is brutally cold in winter. They're also still wild at heart, temperamental, feisty and sensitive to noise, she said.
"When we brought them from Africa, it was winter and so cold, so we made vests for them to wear," Kim recalled with an embarrassed laugh.
Today, 10,000 ostriches are grouped in pens that line a long road dubbed Ostrich Alley. State-of-the-art equipment, including a gleaming $1.2 million dismembering machine and sausage maker, were imported from France and Italy.
Leader Kim so loves to stroll around the farm, surveying Ostrich Alley from a hilltop perch, that he has made more than 70 visits over the years, the guide said.
Why ostriches? "The appeal of ostriches is that nothing is wasted," guide Kim said. She showed off goods for sale and on display in a small shop on the farm grounds: sausages lined up like cigars, high heels and men's loafers, wallets and purses, feather dusters and painted eggs on carved wooden stands.
