How will we pay for the Jamaica we say we want?
Hurricane Melissa did more than destroy homes; it clarified Jamaica’s next chapter. Storms of this scale are not only environmental events, they are national X-rays. They reveal what we have built well, what we have ignored, and where our future must go.
Melissa did not simply expose vulnerability; it exposed a choice. If we are honest, this is the moment when Jamaica must decide, with intention, what kind of society we want to become over the next five years, and whether we will continue patching over the cracks or finally strengthen the foundation.
During my years as a Member of Parliament I saw daily the gap between Jamaica’s aspirations and its reality. I walked through communities full of people who have been building and rebuilding their lives without the support of systems designed to lift them into stability.
For decades we accepted a development model that made poverty invisible until disaster made it impossible to ignore. Hurricane Melissa has stripped away that luxury. And we should not be surprised: Jamaica has been significantly impacted by only a handful of major hurricanes in the past 40 years, including Gilbert (1988), Ivan (2004), Dean (2007), Beryl (2024), and Melissa (2025), but the scale of destruction from these intensifying storms is unprecedented. Climate models now project that storms in the Caribbean may become 30 to 50 per cent more intense.
For too many vulnerable families the average recovery period after a major storm stretches four to seven years, meaning many households never fully recover before the next disaster arrives. No society can continue like this.
What is different now is the breadth of awareness. Melissa tore away not just zinc and roofs, but the comfortable distance many Jamaicans kept from the everyday struggles of the working poor. Suddenly people are demanding that the situation be addressed decisively — stronger homes, better safety nets, more dignified care packages, and a Government that moves with urgency. But as heartfelt as these calls are, they confront us with the question we have avoided for decades: How will we pay for the Jamaica we say we want?
I’ve long argued that Jamaica must grow its way into resilience, but growth takes time. It requires years of investment, reform, productivity, and stability. Storms are not waiting for that timeline, and neither are the people living in their shadow. And the cost of delay is already staggering.
The Inter-American Development Bank and the World Bank estimate that Hurricane Melissa caused US$8.8 billion in physical damage, the equivalent of 41 per cent of Jamaica’s gross domestic product (GDP). Almost half of what we produce in a year disappeared in hours. And that figure does not include the longer-term economic fallout: The displaced families, lost incomes, weakened infrastructure, destroyed agriculture, and multi-year recovery processes that never make the headlines.
Melissa was not just a hurricane. It was a development turning point. If we are serious about designing a Jamaica that works, then we must confront the economic realities shaping us. Remittances, for instance, tell a story we seldom discuss honestly. In 2021, they made up more than 25 per cent of our GDP. Today, they still account for close to 19 per cent, making Jamaica the second-most remittance-dependent country in the Caribbean. This generosity from abroad is an act of profound love, but it has consequences.
Most remittances, nearly 70 per cent, are spent on basic consumption, not investment. And households that rely heavily on overseas support often show lower formal participation in the local workforce. This is not because Jamaicans are unwilling to work — our people are among the most industrious in the world. It is because when an economy cannot provide adequate wages or opportunity, overseas income quietly becomes a substitute for local participation, and dependency becomes a survival strategy.
So the question is no longer whether Jamaica must change, but what kind of change are we prepared to pursue, pay for, and uphold?
The countries we admire — Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Finland — did not build their strong safety nets by luck. They made deliberate choices about taxation, contribution, accountability, and productivity. Sweden’s tax-to-GDP ratio stands at 41 per cent, nearly double Jamaica’s. But its model is not only about how much people pay, it is about how much people are expected to contribute in return.
In Sweden, unemployment benefits come with mandatory job-seeking and training requirements. Denmark obliges welfare recipients to enrol in activation programmes that keep them connected to the workforce. Finland links social benefits to personal responsibility agreements that outline obligations as well as rights. These societies operate on the understanding that nothing is free, and that contribution is the ethical foundation of a functioning State.
At the same time, Jamaica must confront its own fiscal and productivity constraints. While our tax-to-GDP ratio resembles that of some developed nations, tax revenue per capita remains low, restricting our ability to fund essential services and resilience projects. Meanwhile, the high cost of disaster recovery already absorbs a significant share of the annual budget, forcing trade-offs between rebuilding and long-term development. These pressures are intensified by decades of low productivity growth. We remain among the lowest in the Caribbean. And the reality is that only about 10 per cent of Jamaican homes meet recommended climate-resilience standards — a weakness Melissa made painfully clear.
You cannot fund Scandinavian-level services with our levels of productivity. The equation simply does not balance.
As we talk about building a stronger, fairer Jamaica, we must confront the truth that every benefit we desire — sturdier homes, climate resilience, stronger public services — requires revenue. And revenue requires a workforce that is engaged, institutions that are efficient, and a culture in which contribution is the norm, not the exception. We can no longer romanticise “getting a small help” when the nation itself now needs structural help.
For the next five years, Jamaica must be intentional, disciplined, focused, and unapologetically committed to strengthening our fundamentals. We must raise productivity, reform our public institutions, expand workforce training, attract investment, and build a tax culture rooted in fairness and accountability. We must extend the social safety net, but we must also strengthen the social spine.
Because the truth is this: We are living in a new climate era, and Melissa is only the beginning. Storms are becoming stronger, costs are rising, and vulnerability is deepening. We cannot continue building and rebuilding a fragile society on the same weak foundation. We cannot keep hoping for resilience without paying for it. And we cannot keep asking the poor to survive disaster after disaster while the rest of us watch from a safe distance.
But if we are serious about transformation, then we must also be honest about what a new Jamaica demands of its citizens. Scandinavian societies do not function simply because governments tax more; they function because everyone contributes. Their social contracts are built on meritocracy, discipline, civic duty, and an understanding that benefits must be matched by effort. If Jamaica is to build a stronger safety net, then contribution cannot be the responsibility of the wealthy alone.
All of us, the working poor, the middle class, public servants, business leaders, and the diaspora, must be part of a culture where participation is the starting point, not the exception. Nothing can be free. A society that expects high-quality services must also be a society in which people commit to productivity, responsibility, and shared sacrifice. Transformation requires not only a Government willing to change, but a people willing to do the same.
Melissa has already rewritten our past. Our future now depends entirely on what we choose to do.
Lisa Hanna is a former Member of Parliament, People’s National Party spokesperson on foreign affairs and foreign trade, and a former Cabinet member.