GLOBAL GOENKARS SPEAK
The writer is professor at Columbia University in the USA who hails from Cortalim
Development is a word being thrown around a great deal in Goa these days. It appears in political speeches, project announcements and election campaigns. Roads and buildings are described as development. Airports, bridges and public works are presented as evidence that Goa is moving steadily toward a brighter future.
Development is among the noblest aspirations of any democracy and therefore deserves more careful consideration than a slogan.
At its best, development represents a promise between government and its citizens: that each generation will inherit a society more prosperous, more secure and more hopeful than the one that came before it. Roads are built, hospitals expanded, airports modernised and public services improved not because concrete possesses any intrinsic virtue, but because these investments are expected to improve the lives of ordinary people.
In that regard, many national initiatives launched by Prime Minister Narendra Modi were founded upon admirable intentions. Swachh Bharat sought cleaner communities. Digital India promised more efficient governance. Investments in transportation, housing, healthcare and public infrastructure were intended to expand opportunity and improve quality of life. These were not unreasonable ambitions. Indeed, they reflected aspirations shared by millions of Indians.
TEST OF PUBLIC POLICY
Yet, intentions alone do not determine outcomes. The true test of public policy is not what is announced, but what citizens experience.
And that is where many Goans increasingly confront an uncomfortable question: Why does a state that appears more developed than ever feel, to so many ordinary people, increasingly difficult to live in?
Few would deny that Goa has changed dramatically. Airports have expanded. Roads have widened and traffic congestion has eased considerably. Housing projects have transformed entire landscapes. Public spending has reached levels previous generations could scarcely have imagined.
Yet beneath this visible transformation lies a growing unease.
The cost of living continues to rise. Property taxes rise. Utility bills rise. Housing prices rise. Young Goans, despite being better educated than any before it, often struggle to secure meaningful employment, let alone afford a home in communities where they grew up.
This is perhaps the defining paradox of modern Goa.
Never before have so many housing projects been built, yet housing has rarely felt less affordable. Never before have we spoken so much about growth, yet so many young people are forced to look beyond Goa for opportunity. Never before have we invested so heavily in infrastructure, yet so many citizens remain anxious about the fundamentals of daily life.
The disconnect is visible across essential services. Smart meters arrived carrying the language of modernisation and efficiency, yet many consumers continue to express frustration about power outages, billing and service delivery. Despite abundant monsoon rainfall, reliable access to clean water remains a distant dream in many communities. Crores are spent on smart cities, buildings and facilities, yet questions about workmanship and maintenance surface with troubling regularity.
The same pattern is visible on our roads, which are repaired only to require repair again. Despite widened roads, accidents continue to claim lives. Citizens do not judge roads by their length. They judge them by their safety and durability.
Even public safety presents its own contradiction. The police force has access to more technology, equipment and resources than before. Yet public concern about drugs, scams and criminal activity remains widespread. Citizens measure security not by expenditure or by slogans ‘Bhivpachi garaz nam’ but by experience.
QUESTIONS CONFRONTING GOANS
Perhaps the greatest disappointment has not been the shortcomings themselves, but the political response to them.
The national vision behind many of these initiatives was clear. The failures that concern citizens today are largely failures of execution, prioritisation and accountability of the government at the State level.
When citizens ask why housing is becoming unaffordable, why the cost of living continues to rise, why water security remains uncertain, why infrastructure often deteriorates prematurely, or why concerns about crime and drugs persist, they deserve answers grounded in governance.
Too often, however, public debate drifts toward religion, caste, language and identity. These subjects matter. They form part of Goa’s rich heritage and deserve thoughtful discussion. But they should never become substitutes for effective governance.
As Vice President C. P. Radhakrishnan recently observed, “Goa’s value lies not merely in its beaches, roads or tourism infrastructure, but in the extraordinary civilisation that evolved here over centuries.”
His words remind us that Goa’s greatest asset is not its airports, highways, or tourism revenues. It is the civilisation that emerged here over centuries, a society shaped by villages, rivers, farms, fishing communities, temples, churches and a culture of coexistence that has repeatedly proven stronger than forces seeking to divide it.
Goa has been fortunate in the past to be guided by leaders who, whatever their political differences, possessed a clear sense of the future they wished to build. Bhausaheb Bandodkar, Jack Sequeira, Shashikala Kakodkar and Manohar Parrikar each, in their own way, articulated a vision for Goa that extended beyond individual projects. They understood that development was not merely about constructing infrastructure, but about building society.
One may agree or disagree with their policies. Yet there was rarely any doubt that they possessed a coherent vision of what Goa could become.
That is the question confronting Goa today.
Beyond individual projects, announcements and investments measured in crores, what is the long-term vision for Goa? What kind of economy are we trying to build? What communities are we trying to preserve? What opportunities are we creating for future generations? And how will today’s choices shape the Goa our children inherit tomorrow?
The measure of leadership is not its ability to amplify differences, but its ability to solve common problems while safeguarding the extraordinary inheritance entrusted to its care.
A society can survive mistakes. It can recover from failed projects and misguided policies. What it cannot easily overcome is the absence of a shared vision for the future.
For in the end, development is not measured by the height of an airport terminal, the size of a government building or the number of crores spent on public works.
It is measured by whether ordinary people can live with dignity, security and hope.
