The future. The future. The future. We obsess over it endlessly—in our personal lives, in our families, in our work. And, of course, in Goa. But whose future are we really talking about? The future of the state itself? The future of the people native to it? The future of those who have made Goa their home? Or the future of the millions who pass through, seeking escape from their lives elsewhere?
In recent times, it seems that aspects of life in Goa that hold value beyond mere monetary considerations are gradually diminishing. The debate between preservation and development is often portrayed as a zero-sum game, which may limit our collective imagination. This isn’t just about nostalgia or resistance to change; it’s about failing to recognize that genuine progress means more than just economic expansion. It’s about asking: Development for whom? At what cost? And to what end?
Observing the current dynamics, it appears that the balance of power has shifted towards a more top-down approach, potentially at the expense of grassroots involvement. While both centralized and community-driven efforts are essential, the scales have tipped towards a more bureaucratic and detached form of governance. Institutions designed to regulate and govern are becoming obstacles, entangled in inefficiencies and distanced from the daily realities of citizens.
We are fixated on a narrow, preordained future, but what about the unexamined futures? What are we not talking about? We take for granted that car-centric planning is inevitable. We assume Goa’s coastline must follow the 'Miami Beach' template. We unquestioningly accept a 'tourist-first' model of development, without asking what it costs the people who live here. What is the social cost of vanishing commons? What happens when we lose local problem-solving mechanisms? What about the growing environmental debt we’re racking up? These are questions that rarely make it into policy discussions, yet they shape the reality of daily life.
The future cannot be limited to mere economic expansion—it has to account for social and cultural capital, for hybrid models of development that strengthen our public spaces, for local economic frameworks that nurture growth without gutting our communities. If tourism is going to remain our economic backbone, can we at least acknowledge the need for a diversified spine? Can we build economic models that don’t just cater to transient visitors but also empower
residents?
If the state isn't leading, then what should a citizen response look like? The village square needs to come back. The same structures that isolate and disconnect us, must be combated with localised action, by champions who reclaim agency over their own spaces, setting and expanding a vision for their immediate surroundings. Picture a panchayat that is not just a bureaucratic unit but a space for civic engagement and enjoyment. This emergent dynamism when nurtured, rooted in place, is where citizen 'care' thrives - revitalizing the everyday, fostering local pride, and creating traditions that are homegrown and meaningful, evolving naturally with time. You need to tend the garden everyday for it to be resilient through seasons.
Your level of care for the commons is directly linked to your time horizon. The deeper your sense of belonging, the further into the future you are willing to look. And here’s the interesting thing—Goa is getting younger. We fixate on religious demographic shifts, but the real, transformative shift is generational. More young people are committing to Goa long-term, seeing it not just as a retreat for retirees or luddites, but as a place to build futures. If Goa’s future belongs to them, shouldn’t they be part of shaping it now?
For policymakers, it’s time to recalibrate assumptions. If you look after the public good, the industry will follow. Dynamism comes from people, not just infrastructure. Economic models that value cultural and social capital will win favour over extractive ones. Cultural infrastructure has real payoffs, beyond just heritage and nostalgia. Culture is not just something to be preserved—it’s something to be lived. If we reduce culture to artefacts of the past, we erase its role in our collective future. Do we really want to live in a world where culture is only a museum exhibit?
Path dependency is real. For a state whose policy position has been to promote tourism for decades, it’s hard to get off that horse when there's an entire economy burgeoning underneath its feet. You cannot steer that ship so easily in a new direction. There is too much political momentum, too much money at stake, and a lot of people will be upset by that. In other words, this will take time. The squabbles of whether tourism has declined or not in any given year distract us from the real question: what does sustainable tourism look like when every major destination is crumbling under the weight of overtourism?
We don’t need to look far for cautionary tales. There is rising discontent with over tourism in countries like Spain and Italy. Overtourism isn’t just about numbers—it erodes informal economies that sustain local communities, it replaces shared public spaces with commercialized zones, it raises home and rental prices making it unaffordable to live; and many other invisible losses that come to bear only after the fact. Why do we think Goa will be any different if we keep making the same choices? We would have to be delusional in our exceptionalism to believe we can avoid the consequences while repeating the mistakes.
But if we must believe in our exceptionalism, let’s use it to build a different future.
Look at Chorao. A small, local island community just took a stand. The Chorao-Madel panchayat unanimously resolved not to allow commercial and environmentally destructive mega projects that threaten their island’s fragile ecology. This is civic action with a political stance, and it is extraordinary. More power to that.
Goa has everything it needs to be a model state. A civic-minded population. A highly literate and globally connected citizenry. An unmatched cultural and natural heritage. The resources to do things differently, to build a future that doesn’t have to mimic every other place that has already sacrificed itself at the altar of unchecked growth. Why aren’t we thinking harder about our own model of development?
Our baseline is higher. So why aren’t our aspirations? That prioritizes the future of those who will live in it. Whose future it is anyway?
(The author is a strategy consultant and writer
living in Goa)