Last Thursday, Wesley Hughes, director general of the Planning Institute of Jamaica (PIOJ), announced that Vision 2030 was near completion. But although Vision 2030 is supposed to be an ingenious and audacious national plan to lift Jamaica from the status of struggling developing country to the mountain top of prosperity, the announcement caused no buzz. For the average Jamaican, this grand plan is nothing more than "a sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal".

Sure enough, the Vision 2030 announcement was made against the backdrop of a global recession and deepening national despair. Yet, that was not the reason why it failed to inspire hope. There is something in the dynamics of the economy that evokes apathy - a perplexing indifference not just to the pangs of a downturn, but also to the promise of an upswing.

In the United States, the unemployment rate has risen to 7.6 per cent and for them, it is seen as a national calamity. On the other hand, there has never been a time in the last 170 years that the unemployment rate has been as low as 7.6 per cent in Jamaica. It was Ronnie Thwaites, the radio talk-show host, who correctly noted once that "this country has never had full employment since the day slavery was abolished".

So close but still so poor

The United States economy has grown over the last decade at an average annual rate of 2.9 per cent, while the Jamaican economy has hobbled along at a rate of 1.2 per cent. Per capita income for Jamaica is approximately US$4,000, which is less than one-tenth of what it is for the US. The gap between us is awfully wide. And yes, the US economy is in a recession and there are questions about how long it will last, but perhaps a more serious question for us now is why are we so close to the US and still so poor? Indeed, unless this question is answered, then the Vision 2030 plan should be torn up into tiny bits and thrown to the wind.

Logic would seem to suggest that the closer you are to the fire, the warmer you should be; the nearer you are to the light, the better you should be able to see. And by that same logic, a country, particularly an English-speaking nation that cherishes democracy and embraces the free market, should have a strong economy if it is close to the largest economy in the world. Not so for Jamaica. This is the paradox of proximity. Apparently, it might have been better for us if we were separated by 20,000 miles rather than being less than 200 miles away.

For years, several socio-political commentators have contended that the problem of poverty in Jamaica is rooted in the nature of our politics. And there is merit to this argument. The Westminster style democracy that was faithfully copied from the British when the yoke of colonialism was thrown off seems to be a mechanism that keeps things intact. Therefore, if the system is good, then it will maintain it in that mode. However, if the system is bad, it perpetuates and amplifies the flaws. Consequently, it works in the United Kingdom, where it was concocted, but it does not work well in Jamaica. Evidently, in the context of the Jamaican social and political reality, the Westminster parliamentary democracy is too divisive, too impervious to ideas from outside, and much too biased towards narrow, short-term goals - all of which strangles the economy.

The question, therefore, is: If the political system has not worked, why then, have Jamaicans not risen up and changed it? After all, perhaps more than any other people in this hemisphere, Jamaicans have a low tolerance threshold and a high propensity for protests. Certainly, our fondest heroes are rebels - men and women who had a militant streak. Nanny, the intrepid freedom fighter; Sam Sharpe, the visionary leader of the Christmas Rebellion; Paul Bogle, the no-nonsense deacon of the Morant Bay uprising; and Bustamante, the champion of the 1948 ferment. These are the warriors we venerate. So, why then has the existing political system survived for so long? In one word: proximity.

Certainly, the lid of the Jamaican society would have been blown off already, forcing change, except for the fact that people have left the island in droves. Between 1972 and 2007, almost 800,000 Jamaicans migrated from the island. This is significant, considering that the population is currently 2.7 million. It is also interesting to note that roughly 80 per cent of the migrants over that period went to the US. There is hardly a Jamaican who does not have a close relative living in America.

It is clear that migrating to the US is a vent for Jamaican discontent. Prime Minister Michael Manley recognised this in the 1970s. When he was faced with mounting disgruntlement about the direction of the country, he declared, "There are five flights a day to Miami", a statement that rankled many well-thinking Jamaicans, because he forgot that as prime minister, he was the servant of the people. Those who migrate free up jobs and release resources, reducing the squabble over scarce benefits. In addition, Jamaicans never forget home. Migrants send back barrels and cash, making life more comfortable for those left behind. And this has made poor management of the economy and political leadership bereft of vision more acceptable. Maybe what is needed is not more remittances, but changes in the political system that capture the better features of US politics.

Copying from the US

Another disadvantage arising from proximity is associated with what Jamaica has chosen to copy from the US. Undoubtedly, Jamaicans have replicated the consumption pattern of the US in numerous ways. Yet, to a large degree, their orientation towards production and customer service has been ignored. Hence, machines in factories are often outdated and poorly maintained, while parking lots are filled with expensive cars and interior corporate offices are palatial.

Making use of people's ingenuity and their productivity is sometimes better than any amount of natural resources a country might posess. Certainly, this partly explains why a country such as Singapore, with far fewer resources, is much more developed than Jamaica. It is production and not proximity that generates wealth.

It is crucial at this point to rethink our politics and reassess our economy within the context of our proximity to the US. Anything less would ensure that in the year 2030, Wesley Hughs' successor at the PIOJ would be telling our children, and their children, about another plan to lift them from poverty by the year 2050.

Cedric Wilson is an economist who specialises in market regulations. He may be contacted at conoswil@hotmail.com.