Colour me unsurprised. A document leak set ablaze the Barbadian political landscape two weekends ago. At first glance, I thought it was fake. Everything looked unusual — from the letterhead to the font used. Yet, once I confirmed the veracity of the proposal to privatise the publicly managed bus system, I found it hard to anticipate anything other than total public backlash. The joke of it all is that I am as dispassionate about it as ever, simply because the indicators of its inevitability were laid bare since I was in primary school.

We were all victims of what’s called the Dead Cat strategy — an outrageous distraction used to divert public attention from the real issue. Such problems rarely disappear once “covered in dead cats” — sometimes not for generations. The recently released and remarkable documentary A Rock and a Hard Place by Chantelle S. Evelyn on YouTube exposes the worst kind of Dead Cat strategy in our society.

Ask yourself how many people were genuinely surprised by what that film revealed — yet every Barbadian knows, or knows intimately, a “parro”. We distract ourselves and even “celebrate” their antics rather than address the root causes of their trauma. And even then, we’d rather alienate them than confront the reality before us. Sadly, I expect another kind of Dead Cat strategy will soon be deployed to cry down — as indecent or inappropriate — what the film sought to expose to wider society.

The threat of privatising the Barbados Transport Board has loomed large since the early 1990s. I recall the issue resurfacing in 2008, a year after graduate school. There may have been other instances since, but they escape me. Somehow, we continue to believe that a government which has struggled with its finances for all of my life could permanently free itself from the threat of privatisation, especially with the general stagnation of our economy. As soon as the economy improves beyond marginally, we generally assume that its likelihood fades. Every ruling party has promised that this would never occur. More dead cats than the garbage bag can hold, I say.

Cabinet is expected to undertake a series of stakeholder meetings to discuss what this “privatisation” might look like. In truth, I see it more as an asset sale or divestment than a wholesale privatisation. The gist of the proposal seems to involve several key points:

  • Closure of the Barbados Transport Board (which operates public buses) and the Barbados Transport Authority (the island’s regulator for ride-for-hire and public transport);
  • Formation of a new mass transit authority to assume regulatory functions;
  • Preferential access for former employees to purchase 121 electric buses at a 50 percent discount, with severed drivers granted first right of refusal;
  • Remaining units to be opened for sale to the public;
  • Certain displaced staff to be absorbed into two government-owned companies or incentivised private providers;
  • Financing to be made available through the new authority at 2 percent interest, though the term of such a loan remains unclear;
  • A 50 percent subsidy on the use of state-owned charging ports; and
  • Government coverage of 25 percent of the cost of replacement rechargeable batteries.

Let me state emphatically that I have immense issues with item seven, and every negative feeling I have about these proposals stems from it. Those batteries are costly, even if government’s contribution reduces some of the ownership risk. Still, a glance at the latest financial statements of both the Authority and, especially, the Board shows how dependent they have been on central government support. The Barbados Transport Board, for instance, cannot meet its revenue targets from bus fares or charters alone. Subsidies account for a large share of its income.

To be specific, the last available financial records (2009–2010) show the Board earning roughly BB$46.7 million in income, 75 percent from fares. Operating expenditure was more than double that, at BB$97.7 million, resulting in losses of about BB$69 million. Payroll alone consumed BB$44 million, and these losses had been rising for years. In essence, fare revenue covered barely a third of total costs. A break-even fare would have been around BB$7.50 — assuming Barbadians didn’t cut back their travel, which of course they would.

Much of that fleet has since been retired and replaced with the Chinese-granted electric buses we have come to know and enjoy — when the shocks work, that is. I assume this younger fleet reduced depreciation, but persistent losses likely required financing beyond the subsidy alone. In addition to a small annual grant of BB$750,000, government subsidies were last budgeted at BB$12.1 million, according to this fiscal year’s approved estimates. These estimates routinely understate the actual amount, as allocations often double in practice. This year’s figures, however, revealed an intent to reduce government’s commitment to the SOE into the foreseeable future. One would not be wrong to think the debt situation at the Transport Board has begun to spiral and that government now faces political limits on what it can do. I even doubt that another marginal increase in bus fares would have corrected the problem.

I am not suggesting that the government should have raised fares then — nor that the new mass transit authority should now. But the tea leaves have long shown what we refused to see, distracted as we were by empty promises that ignored fiscal reality. The Transport Board had become more burden than benefit for a government committed to reducing debt and improving efficiency and fiscal position.

The proposals, on paper, give severed drivers a raw deal. Many of them would rather not take on additional financial risk, given their personal circumstances. The appeal of a public sector job lies in its stability, even if workers pursue other income streams privately. With discounted buses and subsidised loans, they might still struggle to turn a profit in a fare environment that remains politically frozen. They are inheriting a chronically loss-making SOE, burdened with years of accumulated debt.

It may be that government expects efficiency gains once these new owners are made more accountable. To me, however, the true test lies in route allocation. Displaced drivers who take up the offer should be granted first rights to refusal on routes. But without an equitable route allocation, this investment becomes far less appealing to the wider public. After all, these electric vehicles cost more than conventional options. I suspect that even the former drivers may have to yield to the aggressive driving culture already embedded in the PSV (public service vehicle) sector in pursuit of profit — but I needn’t throw that dead cat into the discussion just yet.