Dennis Minott | Leaders that Despise Accountability Harm People

In the months following Hurricane Melissa, one word has echoed across Jamaica: accountability. It is spoken in taxis, at cookshops, on talk radio, in staff rooms, and in the corridors of Parliament. It is not an academic word. It is not a fashionable slogan. It is the cry of ordinary people who sense that something fundamental is slipping.

When leaders despise accountability — whether by ignoring questions, delaying disclosures, dismissing oversight bodies, or treating scrutiny as insult — the harm does not remain in Kingston boardrooms, it travels. It reaches the market vendor in Annotto Bay, the teacher in Portland, the small contractor in Montego Bay, and the returning resident in Florida wondering whether to invest back home in Sav.

Let us spell out the harm plainly.

First, when accountability is weak, projects cost more. That means more of your tax dollars disappear into inefficiency. Roads take longer to fix. Schools wait longer for repairs. Dialysis clinics operate with few ageing equipment while budgets mysteriously expand. When contracts are not transparently awarded and monitored, prices quietly inflate. The public pays twice — once through taxation and again through poor service at even type A hospitals.

Second, when leaders evade scrutiny, confidence drops. Investors — local and foreign — watch governance closely. If they perceive that rules bend for the powerful, they hesitate. And when investors hesitate, jobs do not materialise. Young graduates remain underemployed. Skilled workers migrate. Diaspora Jamaicans who might have invested in housing developments, renewable energy, agro-processing, or tourism quietly redirect their funds elsewhere.

The cost of weak accountability is the absence of opportunity.

Third, when oversight institutions are undermined — whether it be the auditor general, parliamentary committees, or integrity bodies — the signal sent to the society is dangerous: standards are optional. If those at the top appear insulated from consequences, compliance weakens across the board. Tax morale declines. Informality grows. Citizens ask, “Why must I follow rules if leaders do not?”

This erosion of standards spreads silently. It shows up in building-code shortcuts. It appears in procurement irregularities. It surfaces in the quiet normalisation of “a little thing” here and “a small favour” there. Over time, that culture of small evasions becomes systemic decay.

Fourth, disaster response becomes compromised.

After Hurricane Melissa, Jamaicans expected rapid rebuilding. Emergency procurement and reconstruction require speed – but speed must never mean secrecy. When citizens cannot see clear breakdowns of expenditure, contractor performance, and timelines, suspicion flourishes. Even if no wrongdoing has occurred, the absence of transparency breeds mistrust.

And mistrust is expensive. Insurance premiums rise when governance appears uncertain. Development partners add layers of procedural control. Borrowing costs creep upward. In a climate-vulnerable country, where storms will return, credibility in reconstruction is not optional. It is financial protection.

Fifth, and perhaps most damaging, is the psychological harm.

When young Jamaicans watch leaders dismiss accountability questions as nuisances, they internalise a corrosive lesson: influence shields you. Integrity is negotiable. Merit competes with proximity to power.

That lesson drains aspiration.

We speak constantly of brain drain. But brain drain is not only about salaries. It is about fairness. When talented young people believe that excellence alone will not be rewarded, they leave. They seek environments where systems function predictably and oversight is not personal but principled.

That quiet departure of talent weakens the nation more than any single scandal.

Dennis A. Minott, PhD. 'Accountability is not punishment. It is protection — for leaders as much as for citizens.'

Sixth, accountability failures in education have generational consequences. If school infrastructure funds are poorly monitored, if attendance data are massaged, if curriculum reforms are rolled out without proper evaluation, children pay the price. There is no recovery window for a neglected school year. A cohort underprepared at age 16 cannot rewind time at 26.

In a small country with a shrinking demographic advantage, educational accountability is national survival.

Seventh, there is the matter of reputation.

Jamaica enjoys global goodwill — culturally vibrant, politically stable, resilient. But reputations are fragile. When unexplained wealth controversies surface, when statutory declarations become contentious, or when oversight findings appear selectively enforced, international observers take note.

Reputation affects everything from tourism confidence to trade negotiations. A country perceived as tolerant of weak accountability struggles to command premium partnerships.

Yet accountability is not punishment. It is protection — for leaders as much as for citizens.

A leader who voluntarily discloses, who invites independent audit, who answers hard questions without defensiveness, strengthens legitimacy. Transparency builds resilience. When scrutiny is welcomed rather than resisted, trust deepens.

Conversely, when scrutiny is framed as hostility, when legitimate questions are dismissed as partisan attacks, polarisation intensifies. The public discourse coarsens. Citizens retreat into camps rather than cooperate across differences.

The greatest harm of despising accountability is cumulative erosion — not dramatic collapse. It is the slow thinning of trust, normalisation of lower standards and the quiet acceptance that “so it go”.

But it does not have to go so.

Genuine accountability requires practical measures:

• Public procurement above defined thresholds should be digitally accessible.

• Reconstruction projects should publish milestones and certified completion reports.

• Integrity declarations should be timely and independently verified.

• Parliamentary committees should release performance scorecards.

• Whistle-blower protections must function in reality, not merely in statute.

Above all, leaders must model receptivity to oversight. The tone matters. A calm, evidence-based response to audit findings reassures citizens. Indignation does not.

Ordinary Jamaicans understand fairness. They understand when explanations are clear and when they are evasive. They understand when numbers add up and when they do not. What they reject is contempt — the subtle suggestion that scrutiny is impertinent.

In small societies, leadership is intimate. People know the story, they see the trajectory, they compare lifestyle to salary. Transparency is survival.

Jamaica today stands at a delicate point. We have weathered economic reform, we have stabilised inflation, we possess capable technocrats and a respected central bank. We have a diaspora willing to help and youth still hungry to achieve.

But none of these strengths can flourish in a culture that tolerates evasion.

Leaders that despise accountability harm the people not only through lost dollars, but through lost trust, which once depleted, is far harder to rebuild than infrastructure.

Accountability is the oxygen of democratic life. When leaders breathe it deeply, the nation strengthens. When they resist it, the people – quietly, steadily, and sometimes irreversibly – suffer.

by Dennis A. Minott, PhD.

February 13, 2026