The Banality of Greed In Jamaica's Governance

In her seminal 1963 work Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil, political philosopher Hannah Arendt startled the world by painting a deeply unsettling portrait—not of a fanatic, nor a monster, but of a terrifyingly ordinary bureaucrat. Adolf Eichmann, a key organiser of the Holocaust, was not a sadist. He was not even especially ideological. He was banal. His evil resided in his blind obedience to authority, his refusal to think critically, and his pathological normalisation of the monstrous. Arendt’s choice of the word “banality” sparked fury then, as it does still, because it suggests that great crimes may not only be perpetrated by twisted minds, but by seemingly upstanding, well-dressed men---or women--- doing their “duty” with impeccable manners—and an utterly hollow moral core.

Today, in Jamaica, we confront not the banality of evil in its genocidal form, but something more creeping, more insidious—and all the more dangerous for its normalisation. We confront th;e banality of greed: the systematic, thoughtless, and depressingly ordinary ways in which greed has wormed its way into the heart of public life, corporate governance, and political culture.

This isn’t the flashy greed of Wall Street villains or Hollywood script fodder. This is a Jamaican greed—refined, softened, often garbed in the language of merit, sacrifice, and even national service. It moves through our institutions like smoke, polluting the air while leaving no fingerprints. The names involved are adorned with titles like “Honourable” and “Most Honourable,” and yet the integrity of such designations is now publicly collapsing under the weight of widespread, if whispered, disbelief.

Recent months have seen serious, shocking allegations of illicit enrichment and financial mismanagement—with implications not only for the individuals named, but for the soul of this nation. The name Teacher Reid, once associated with educational reform and respectability, now resurfaces in reports not of achievement, but of alleged excess and unexplained affluence. The Honourable Reid’s alleged enrichment while occupying a position of public trust casts a long and shameful shadow across a sector—education—that ought to embody the very opposite of material self-service.

But perhaps even more shocking to many was the recent news implicating our esteemed Most Honourable P M. 

And then, in an international spectacle that has drawn quiet gasps across the Caribbean but a conspicuous hush at home, headlines from Trinidad, Guyana, Curacao, and even farther north into the diasporic media corridors of North America, now trumpet the name of the Honourable VX/Truth (aliases: Insight4Sight, M., Cliry, etc, ad nauseam)  —long revered as a paragon of Jamaican entrepreneurial genius—in the context of alarming levels of personal debt and creditor concern. The whispers have become headlines. Yet within Jamaica, where the story matters most, we hear...silence.

Not just silence—but strategic billioneering silence. Calculated muteness. Where is the press conference from our regulators? Where is the open discourse in Parliament? Where is the commentary from our financial watchdogs? How is it that critical bondholder meetings of potentially devastating consequence for CARICOM citizens are taking place here, on our soil, yet our media outlets and business leaders behave as if they are deaf and blind?

Could it be, Heaven forbid, that we are witnessing the middle stages of state capture? Have we drifted so far into a culture of complicity that those who ought to speak are now instructed, either formally or informally, to keep still? To not disturb the fabric of our fragile, fraudulent peace?

For if our regulators, watchdogs, and journalists cannot—or will not—sound the alarm in the face of such revelations, then what remains of democratic accountability? Are we to believe that Jamaica is now a place where those with the right friends, the right portfolio, or the right handshake can float above scrutiny? Is this our new normal?

Arendt warned that the greatest danger lay not in the monstrous, but in the mundane. And here in Jamaica, the mundane has become terrifying. Greed wears a tie, drinks Fiji water, commutes by helicopter, and drives a Prado. It sits on boards, gives speeches about nation-building, and receives honours. It is photographed in churches. It proclaims fidelity to God, rationality, and native country while, perhaps, quietly ensuring personal gain.

Let us not lose sight of this: The issue is not envy of wealth. Jamaica needs wealth creators, investors, entrepreneurs. But wealth without transparency, and profit without conscience, is corruption, not capitalism. It is extraction, not development. And when those charged with national stewardship—whether politicians or financiers—begin to behave like pillagers in silk ties, the very promise of national progress unravels.

There is no room for euphemism. Our children are watching. Our diaspora is watching. CARICOM is watching. And our silence, unless broken, will be interpreted as complicity. We must ask: What are we defending with this silence? A reputation already sullied? Institutions already hollowed out? Or are we defending the comfort of those too cowardly—or too compromised—to confront the truth?

The idea of “Most Honourable” must not become a cynical joke in the mouths of our youth. The title of “Honourable” must not become a refuge for those who would raid the public purse. If we do not urgently and publicly reaffirm the meaning of these honours, we risk hollowing them out entirely.

And so we return to Arendt—not to the death camps of Europe, but to the simple truth she unearthed: That evil, or in our case greed, thrives not only where there is malice, but where there is indifference. Where conscience falls silent. Where duty becomes a script, and public office becomes a theatre for private gain.

Let us resist. Let us speak. Let us remember that honour is not a title bestowed, but a life lived. And Jamaica—this precious, wounded, still-hopeful Jamaica—deserves more than banal greed masked by noble titles. It deserves leaders, in truth and in deed, who can look the people in the eye and say: My hands are clean.

Let us not accept the unacceptable.

by Dennis A. Minott, PhD.

July 31, 2025