Posted on Oct 01, 2017
I recall a childhood story from Aesop’s fables regarding a shepherd boy and his false cries of “wolf”
It goes something like this:
A boy called Peter lived with his parents in a village on the hillside. His parents, like most of the other people in the village, were sheep farmers. Everybody in the village took turns to look after the sheep, and when Peter was 10 years old, he was considered old enough to take his turn at shepherding.
But Peter was too easily bored, and he found it very tiresome being on the hillside with only sheep for company. So he’d find ways to amuse himself, running up rocks, climbing trees, chasing sheep, but nothing really kept him amused for very long. Then he hit upon a brilliant idea. He climbed to the top of the tallest tree, and started shouting towards the village: “Wolf! Wolf! Wooolf! Woohoolf!”
One of the villagers heard him, and got all the other men together, and armed with axes, hoes and forks, they ran out of the village to chase away the wolf and save their herd. Of course when they got there, they merely found Peter perched high up in his tree, laughing, and the sheep grazing peacefully. They were very annoyed with him. That night Peter got a spanking from his mother and was sent to bed without any supper.
For a while life went on again as normal, and people forgot about the incident. Peter managed to behave himself whenever it was his turn to mind the sheep. Until one day, he got really bored again. He picked up some sticks, and running through where the sheep were grazing, he started hitting the sticks together, and shouting: “Wolf! Wolf! Wooolf! Woohoolf! Woohoohoooolf!”
Sure enough, somebody in the village heard and before long the men all come running up the hill armed with their sticks and axes and hoes and shovels, ready to chase away the big bad wolf, and save their sheep and the poor shepherd boy. Imagine their consternation when they arrived in the field to see their herd grazing peacefully, and Peter sitting on a big rock, laughing uncontrollably.
That night Peter got a good telling off, an even better spanking from his mother, and was again sent to bed without any supper. For a few days people in the village went around moaning about Peter and his tricks, but before long things settled down again, and life resumed its normal uneventful course, and Peter had to do his turn at shepherding again every now and then. He decided he should behave himself, he really didn’t want to upset everybody all the time, and he especially didn’t want another one of his mother’s spankings!
Then, one afternoon when Peter was in the fields with the sheep, he noticed some of them were getting nervous, they started bleating and running hither and thither. Peter didn’t know what was the cause of this strange behaviour, sheep were running all over and making an ever louder racket. He got worried and decided to climb a tree so he could see what was going on. He balanced on a sturdy branch and looked around, what he saw almost made him fall out of the tree. There was a great big hairy wolf, chasing the sheep, biting at their legs, snapping at their tails. For a few seconds Peter was speechless. Then he started shouting: “Woolf! Woolof! Woohoohooloof!”
In the village an old man heard the shouting. “Oh no, not that Peter again”, he said, shaking his head. “What’s going on?” enquired another villager. “It’s that Peter again, he just can’t help himself”.
“That boy needs to be the centre of attention all the time”, said another. “Wait till his mother gets a hold of him”, added yet another. Nobody believed that this time there really was a wolf, and nobody got their hoe out, or their axe, or their shovel. All the sticks were left in the sheds and nobody rushed up the hillside. It wasn’t until very much later that afternoon, that the boy sent to take over the shepherding from Peter found dead sheep’s bodies strewn all over the hillside, and Peter still up there in his tree, whimpering, that the villagers found out there really had been a wolf this time.
At last Peter learnt his lesson, that if you always tell lies, people will eventually stop believing you; and then when you’re telling the truth for a change, when you really need them to believe you, they won’t.
Just as the villagers eventually ignored the shepherd boy when a wolf really did threaten his flock, we unfortunately too often find a parallel in agents’ over-the-top embellishments of properties. It only takes a few emails describing “superb opportunity” or “fantastic buying” when clearly the property is neither, for us to disregard any missives from that particular agent. Not only does attempting to promote a property as something it is not, cause us to distrust that agent’s judgement and skills, it means that when a truly “superb opportunity” does some along, it will likely be dismissed as just more unjustified hyperbole.
We don’t believe Industrial property is an impulse or emotive purchase. It is not a purchase that gives an irrational moment of self gratification. It is a business. Which means that the job of the agent is to match the property with the needs, wants and requirements of the purchaser or tenant. Yet so often the agent tries to disguise goat as lamb when there is no need whatsoever. Different purchasers and tenants have differing requirements.
We tend towards the opinion that there is no such thing as a bad property. Just a bad price. Every property has a price that works for it. Attempting to describe a property as something it clearly is not doesn’t change the value. It simply loses the agent credibility, and makes the task of matching buyer and seller, or landlord and tenant , just that much more difficult. We certainly have our radar operational to tell the difference between real wolves and fake wolves.