The cost of silence
A Beaconite has been trying to wrap his head around a recent audit report that reads less like a technical document and more like a cautionary tale. It concerns the $20 million salary blunder — a number so large it could build schools, pave roads or even fund the next generation of entrepreneurs. Instead, it became a gaping hole in the budget. The auditor general’s findings are sobering. The Deputy Governor’s Office and the Ministry of Finance both had early warnings that the new salary increases could cost nearly three times the consultant’s $9.4 million estimate. The ministry’s own Budget Unit said as much in October 2023, estimating the cost at $27.7 million once salaries and contributions were factored in. That wasn’t guesswork — it was a flashing red light. Yet Cabinet never saw that number. Instead, members were shown PricewaterhouseCoopers’ softer figure, even though the consultancy itself advised the ministry to validate its assumptions. Those assumptions, as it turned out, were shaky at best — and included inflated staff counts and other issues. But the real culprit wasn’t PwC’s maths. It was the silence of leaders who for some reason chose not to disclose the bigger, scarier number. From a human standpoint, the Beaconite can almost understand why. Nobody likes being the messenger of bad news. Telling Cabinet the raises might cost $30 million could have derailed the long-overdue review. But this is exactly the problem: The system punishes candour and rewards wishful thinking. The result was a decision made on incomplete information, followed by a scramble to patch the shortfall after the fact. The lesson seems painfully obvious: Honesty upfront is cheaper than damage control later. Independent verification should be standard, not optional. And transparency must be treated not as a burden, but as a duty. The Beaconite is not naïve. He knows this territory has a long history of shrugging off reports and moving on to the next controversy. But he also knows governance is nothing more than people making choices. In this case, people appear to have chosen silence over courage. And silence, despite the proverb, isn’t golden. In fact, it cost taxpayers $20 million — a lot of gold lost to closed lips. The lesson is clear: The territory cannot keep waiting for someone else to do the hard work of accountability. Or else the verdicts — whether they come from an auditor in Road Town or a minister in London — will always arrive too late.
Life’s a beach
The Virgin Islands has got its tourism buzz back, according to Britain’s most famous newspaper, The Times. A Beaconite was heartened to see an expansive piece in the self-styled “paper of record” that heaped praise on the territory like a summer rainstorm in terms that glowed brighter than the Caribbean sun. It was good news after the twin blows of Hurricane Irma and the Covid-19 pandemic did so much damage to the VI hospitality industry and workforce. A Times reporter — who visited as a “guest” of the BVI Tourist Board — gushed that the VI should be firmly on readers’ “radar” for 2026. The reporter praised new daily flights from Miami to the “gateway island” of Tortola (close enough), the reopening of prestige resorts like Peter Island, and even the depiction of the territory in the recent BBC bullion-heist drama “The Gold.” “Green and virginal with a mere 30,000 fun-loving residents, this is surely the last bling-free millionaires’ playground in the Caribbean,” thundered the media outlet — which, incidentally, is also known as “The Thunderer.” With so many negative pieces about the VI in the British press lately, the Beaconite was pleased to find a review highlighting the real nature of “nature’s little secrets.” After the controversy caused when Fodors Travel Guide put the territory on its dreaded “no list” for 2025, it now seems to be all go for the tourist trade in 2026.
