“The chief task in life is simply this: to identify and separate matters so that I can say clearly to myself which are externals not under my control, and which have to do with the choices I actually control. Where do I look for good and evil? Not to uncontrollable externals, but within myself to the choices that are my own . . .’
– Epictetus, Greek stoic philosopher
RAMADAN is a time of great spiritual significance, a month of joy, reflection and piety.
But by the third week, a familiar complaint starts making the rounds.
While there is much to be grateful for, one thing most Malaysians agree on, whatever their race and religion, is that the price of the food sold at Ramadan bazaars is steep.
I haven’t had time to conduct a proper market survey this year, but if last year’s trend is anything to go by, prices are only heading north.
In 2023, newspapers reported that murtabak prices had jumped from RM5 or RM6 to RM7, while roti John kambing surged from RM10 to RM15.
Even a Bank of America (BoA) friend who was in town recently pointed out that a simple buka puasa meal – beef rendang, sayur lodeh, and my favourite kuih seri muka – had gone up by 7 per cent from 2023 to 2024, now costing RM6.90.
Which, frankly, still sounds like a steal.
I had to stop her mid-conversation and ask where she was shopping because at most places I’ve seen, prices have climbed well beyond that.
Meanwhile, hotel buffets have gone beyond mere indulgence, reaching new heights in pricing.
Finding one below RM100 is nearly impossible, and one local hotel is charging up to RM428++ per person.
For context, when I first wrote about the soaring prices of Ramadan buffets in 2013, the most expensive offering was RM138.
Adjusted for inflation, that should translate to about RM170 today, according to the Statistics Department’s (DOSM) Malaysia CPI Inflation Calculator.
Yet, many establishments are charging nearly double that – not just due to inflation but because diners are willing to pay.
Indeed, spending tends to rise during Ramadan.
A 2023 study by my team found that 30 per cent of Malaysian Muslims spend more during the fasting month, while 70 per cent see it as “the time to find the best deals”.
At the time, DOSM reported that Ramadan and Aidilfitri bazaars generated RM2.5 billion in revenue and provided jobs for over 200,000 workers.
So, does more spending and business naturally translate into a stronger economy?
It’s not quite as simple as that.
Despite the surge in consumption, Ramadan is often associated with a decline in overall economic output – particularly in the Middle East.
A 2013 report by Saudi Arabian colleagues estimated that productivity declines between 35 per cent and 50 per cent during Ramadan due to shorter working hours and lifestyle adjustments.
I first explored this relationship during my postgraduate year at Columbia University, working on a research project with MasterCard.
The global financial services giant tasked me with analysing data from 167 countries over 61 years, using predictive models I had developed.
Funny enough, when I initially heard the project details over the phone – remember, the COO then was Ajay Banga, now president of the World Bank, who spoke with a delightfully thick Indian accent – I thought the timeframe was 16 years.
Imagine my surprise when the official letter arrived the following week, correcting my misunderstanding – 61 years, not 16!
It’s just another memorable entry in my collection of amusing mishears.
Regardless, it was pretty exciting to see my mathematical frameworks put to practical use, illuminating consumers’ purchasing behaviour on a global scale.
Gratifyingly, those very same models are now being adapted locally to assess housing affordability – proof, perhaps, that my model never goes out of fashion.
Eight months later, my study confirmed a clear pattern: longer fasting hours correlate with lower economic growth.
For example, I estimated that if fasting hours in Bangladesh increased from 12 to 13, GDP growth could drop by 0.6 to 0.9 percentage points.
Why does this happen?
While fasting-related fatigue can reduce concentration, many workers shorten their working hours – to prepare for breaking fast and recover from late-night Tarawih prayer sessions.
Ramadan also brings a shift from formal employment to self-employment.
Take Ramadan bazaar vendors, for example – many only sell food for one month a year.
However, it’s arguable how much of that is ultimately productive.
The Consumers Association of Penang for example estimated that food wastage spikes by 15 per cent to 20 per cent during Ramadan, with around 90,000 tonnes discarded in 2023 alone.
Imagine all that effort cooking food for the masses, only to discard it by the end of the day.
Despite the grumbling over higher prices, sluggish productivity and wasted food, people are still enjoying Ramadan.
Interestingly, the same 2023 data revealed Muslims report themselves feeling happier.
We didn’t set out to discover this.
It was a happy accident.
While analysing subjective well-being (SWB) using the World Values Survey, we looked at responses to questions about happiness and life satisfaction – and fasting appeared to increase both indicators for Muslims.
Then again, maybe it wasn’t so surprising.
One of my old mentors, Daniel Kahneman – yes, that Kahneman – often spoke in campus seminars about how experiences shape well-being.
(I wrote about this previously in ‘An Evening with the Godfather’ (April 6, 2024) and ‘Mensch Amongst Madness’ (April 20, 2024).)
We concluded that Ramadan fasting increases SWB for Muslims across these indicators.
While happiness and life satisfaction are harder to quantify than GDP growth, we estimated that each additional hour of fasting increases the likelihood of happiness by four percentage points and life satisfaction by nine percentage points.
“While Ramadan fasting has an important material cost in Muslim countries, it is associated with Muslims feeling significantly happier and more satisfied with their lives,” the study added.
In addition, we observed that the decline in productivity isn’t forced but rather a conscious decision.
People devote more time to spiritual activities such as prayer, and greater socialisation, be it through buka puasa gatherings, charity programmes, or the simple act of checking in on neighbours to drop off some kuih.
“In light of such a possibility, it may not be that puzzling that longer Ramadan fasting makes people ‘poorer, but happier’,” I said in a summary note.
So while people gripe about the increased cost and spending during Ramadan, they are simultaneously happy to make these small sacrifices for the benefit of the greater good.
The increase in prices and disruption that Ramadan brings is welcomed as part and parcel of the greater good, similar to what you might see during Christmas or Chinese New Year with cramped households as relatives make nice with each other for that one day a year.
Except, unlike those holidays, Ramadan lasts a month.
And so does Syawal, the month after.
Prices go up, but so does generosity.
Productivity goes down, but people take more time to connect with their brethren better.
And as they fast, they ultimately take in much more – things that nourish the soul.
The views expressed here are those of the columnist and do not necessarily represent the views of Sarawak Tribune.
