The Urgency of Implementing a "Giving Economy" to Manage Staple Foods

From the outset, economics has been constructed upon the basis of "mutually extractive" transactions. An examination of the Islamic Food Economy—particularly regarding staple foods—reveals the existence of an alternative model that has long been practiced: the "mutually giving" transaction. People instinctively enjoy sharing food, regardless of tribe or religion. Even today, in the modern world, we still love doing it; when we meet an old friend, our natural inclination is to invite them for a meal—in other words, to share food.

Is it possible to construct and implement this "sharing economy" or "giving economy"? It would certainly represent a spectacular shift.

Yet, why not? The economic landscape and its inherent socio-religious and cultural elements are incredibly diverse, and we must remain open to fresh, solution-oriented ideas. We need to devise a new framework for the global food economy—a system that, to this day, remains deeply flawed.

A somewhat similar concept has recently emerged: the "sharing economy." The sharing economy is defined as "a way of distributing goods and services that differs from the traditional model of corporations hiring employees and selling products to consumers." It manifests in various forms, such as shared workspaces (co-working platforms), mutual capital assistance (peer-to-peer lending platforms), clothing exchanges (fashion platforms), and the sharing of freelance talent (freelancing platforms), as well as ride-sharing and taxi-sharing services. These platforms facilitate the sharing of resources, roles, and profits, all made possible by the availability of digital information technology.

In the agricultural sector, management expert Rhenald Kasali cites the example of a landowner who observes other farmers needing to cross their land. Under a sharing economy model, the landowner would not forbid passage or block the path; instead, they would propose a collaboration based on profit-sharing. For instance, the landowner might invite the farmer to tend to the crops in exchange for a share of the eventual harvest. In reality, the practice of sharing assets has existed for thousands of years. The advent of the internet and the use of big data have made it easier for asset owners and users to communicate with one another.

Societies during the era of the Caliphate commonly employed non-market mechanisms. When famine struck the Hijaz (Medina), Umar ibn al-Khattab wrote to his governor in Egypt, Amr ibn al-Aas, instructing him to send supplies. Amr replied, "I will send camels laden with food—camels so numerous that their heads will be before you [in Medina] while their tails are still before me [in Egypt]."

Regarding food, as previously mentioned, global food production is more than sufficient; it is our consumption patterns that create the illusion of scarcity. Therefore, one must exercise restraint over one's tongue and appetite. As noted earlier, Islam offers comprehensive solutions to problems; ensuring an adequate food supply requires managing both the supply and demand sides simultaneously. We must all curb our desires.

I am very curious to know whether commercial eateries existed during the time of the Prophet. I have posed this question to numerous religious scholars, yet I have received no answer.

Consider the concept of hospitality: a guest arriving at a home becomes the host's full responsibility for three days, receiving free meals and lodging. Extending this logic, if an individual or a group of guests arrives in a village, shouldn't it be the village's obligation to meet their needs? Such practices were common, for instance, during the era of the struggle for independence.

If this principle were applied, the commercial sale of staple foods would become unnecessary. Or, even if one were to engage in the trade of staple foods, the aim should not be the accumulation of wealth or running a business for profit. And God knows best.

Islamic economics does not aim to satisfy the boundless array of human needs and desires. Earning spiritual merit is the ultimate goal of life—and indeed, the very purpose of economic activity. If the act of giving generates such merit, why should one sell—whether at a low price or, even worse, at a high one? Thus, it is deeply reprehensible for anyone to use food as a weapon to amass wealth, assert dominance, or subjugate others.

Is the commercial transaction the most effective and equitable mechanism? It may be effective, but it is not necessarily fair. In any transaction, we can never truly pay the full equivalent of the price we hand over—and this applies to services as well.

Why should food be viewed differently? I would argue that every object holds a unique character and position within society; consequently, it is inadequate to understand food solely through the general principles applied to other commodities. Theoretical oversimplification fails to acknowledge or accommodate the distinctive nature of food.

Classifying food merely as a primary or "staple" good seems inadequate. It warrants a higher status—perhaps as a "fundamental necessity"—ranking above standard "staple goods."

Why does food require a different management approach? Because food is unique. It originates from the land, whether directly or indirectly; there is no such thing as purely factory-made food.

Furthermore, the world's land area is finite; it does not change. How, then, can such a commodity be equated with other goods?

Moreover, food production differs fundamentally from manufacturing. Manufacturing involves transforming raw materials into semi-finished and finished products.

What constitutes a "staple food" or "primary food"? We must define the scope. Each society needs to determine which items qualify as its staple foods. In my view, this category should be limited to foods that undergo simple processing and are sold at low prices.

In Islam—at least according to the Sirah Nabawiyah (Prophetic biography)—food preparation did not involve complex processes. Food was simply boiled, roasted, or perhaps fried, and consisted of items consumed daily. There were no exorbitantly expensive foods resulting from elaborate preparation methods.

This aligns with the concept of food as a basic necessity—sustenance to meet biological needs, rather than prestige foods served at elite gatherings.

What is the most fundamental food? We call this a "staple food." There are hierarchies of food; some are absolutely essential for survival. In Indonesia, rice is generally the staple, though in some regions, it might be sweet potatoes.

A staple food is one that provides basic nutrition. Staple foods do not typically provide the full range of nutrients the body requires; therefore, they are usually accompanied by side dishes to meet nutritional needs and prevent malnutrition. Staple foods vary according to location and culture but generally originate from plants—either cereals such as rice, wheat, and corn, or tubers like potatoes, sweet potatoes, taro, and cassava.

Animal products—such as meat and dairy—are also classified as food, though they are not staple foods. One can survive without consuming meat or dairy for a month. In Indonesia, many people encounter meat only twice a year: during Eid al-Adha and Eid al-Fitr. However, for traditionally hunter-gatherer groups like the Inuit (Eskimos), meat and fish serve as the primary food source.

Why should food be treated differently? The poor spend the vast majority of their income on food, and it is the duty of the affluent to assist the impoverished. Food is the highest priority; once food needs are met, energy can be directed toward more meaningful pursuits.

Rice is a staple food for the majority of Indonesia's population, making it a quasi-public commodity of strategic value across economic, environmental, social, and political dimensions. One might consider removing rice from the standard market mechanism. To enhance the efficiency and effectiveness of rice price stabilization policies, a comprehensive pricing strategy is required. Such a policy must harmonize relationships among all stakeholders—from farmers and processors to marketers and consumers—within an efficient supply chain that ensures fair returns for every party involved.

Is it possible to remove food
from the market mechanism ?

It is difficult—undeniably so. The idea that food is an attractive, easy-to-sell, and consistently marketable commodity is deeply ingrained in our mindset and daily behavior. Economists have long analyzed food primarily as an economic good. Food is produced for sale, transforming it into agribusiness; supplies are withheld when prices are low, waiting for them to rise; governments employ "food politics," and so on.

Yet, removing food from the market mechanism is not impossible. It could happen if there were a genuine, noble intent. Of course, this does not mean food would cease to be traded entirely; rather, any exchange would be driven by humanitarian concerns rather than the pursuit of massive profit.

Global food needs are not excessive, and the world actually produces a surplus; however, supplies are often hoarded or withheld. Market mechanisms fail to smoothly distribute grain from surplus-producing regions to deficit areas. The primary obstacle is cost: production is expensive, so payment is required for access. Yet, if a deficit region is designated a disaster zone, grain is shipped immediately without haggling over the cost. Indeed, a disaster is often the prerequisite.

Food is not merely an economic commodity; it is a fundamental necessity. It should not be equated with other goods or needs. Because food is a fundamental necessity, those who share it earn a greater reward. Individuals have the choice to either sell or give it away; giving is by far the better option.

Could food be managed entirely by the government, outside of market mechanisms? It is possible. The Baitul Mal (public treasury) system once operated in this manner. Food could be provided free of charge, as production costs can actually be very low through the use of government land and state-supplied inputs, while consumption remains aligned with basic biological needs rather than excess. Thailand is frequently cited as an example of extensive government involvement in the food sector; the government purchases the entire harvest from farmers—remarkably, at prices 50 percent above market rates.

Furthermore, food distribution outside of market mechanisms already occurs at the community level; the sharing of raw ingredients and prepared meals is a common practice that persists to this day.

Does Islam treat food differently?
 If so, why?

Yes, food holds a significant position in Islam and requires special treatment. Those who produce it (farmers), those who consume it, and those who trade it must all adhere to specific guidelines.

The state, too, views food differently, as it is a matter of life and death. People do not die from lacking a television, but the need for food—such as rice—cannot be postponed. Therefore, it is highly improper for any party or nation to use food as a tool to dominate others; such actions are truly uncivilized.

If you have a surplus of food, share it immediately. Why? Because excess food serves no purpose and is generally perishable. This differs from items like shoes; owning a hundred pairs of shoes is not an issue, as they do not spoil.

In the current system, where food is subject to market mechanisms, those involved in the food trade amass enormous profits and wealth. They enjoy substantial margins and exercise dominant control over the sector. Food is leveraged as a source of power, beginning with the large-scale acquisition of land through various means—driven by the recognition that land is the primary source of food production.

Wallahu ‘alam. And God knows best.