The Value of Things

One of the most bizzare pieces of junk mail I have ever received arrived the other day:

Now, we have here on our property a disused quarry -- as you can see in the photo, full of old scrap metal of various sorts:

When we first came here, we foolishly thought that we could sell this metal for scrap and get a bit of money.  Anywhere else, this would be at least a few hundred pounds worth.  Scrap metal prices are actually going up at the moment.  But no.  We have since discovered that the cost of getting the metal off the island means that it effectively has no value.  So we will have a quarry full of scrap metal forever.

You see this all over the island.  Piles of scrap metal.  Cars that have reached the end of their useful lives, just parked up and left to rot.  When my last car spectacularly failed its MOT, I was offered £85 by the scrappie.  Not here.

Don't get me wrong, I like a glass of whisky as much as anybody else, but what does it say about this world that I can get my whisky collected for free to sell, but not the metal -- which seems to me in the long run to be a more inherently useful and practical substance?