Lead article published in oHerald on April 27, 2025
It is not that individuals suddenly abandon their values, but that the environment in which they act steadily reshapes what feels acceptable.
In
recent months, Goa has been grabbing the national headlines for all the wrong
reasons. Thanks to digital technology, there is no end to the streaming of hot
and sensational news spewing from an overdose of Goa’s model governance and a
culturally decaying society. The bubble of political genius leading to economic
prosperity is bursting with sex scandals, deaths from drug overdose in
educational institutions and at beachside night parties, hate campaigns,
horrific road accidents, political defections, and even the hijacking of election
processes. The government hides its embarrassment behind claims of a conspiracy
to malign Goa’s image, and in some cases, even registration of an FIR by the
cops to intimidate whistle-blowers. Nothing seems impossible; the sky is the
limit in such a toxic social and political environment.
In
recent years, Goa has witnessed a surge in protests over illegalities,
immorality and crime. Conversations increasingly lament a perceived decline in
morality, whether it is political corruption, lawlessness, substance abuse,
casinos, reckless driving, religious polarisation, or the erosion of social
responsibility. But beneath the cycle of outrage lies a denial, a more
uncomfortable truth, one that fewer are willing to confront. The result is a
civic culture that oscillates between spikes of anger and long bouts of
resignation.
The
question is whether Goa has the carrying capacity for such episodic,
performative, and quickly dissipating mode of protests, and how much change
such outrage can deliver.
The
image of Goa as a permissive, “anything goes” destination reinforces patterns
of abuse and violence that spill beyond tourist enclaves into local life.
Alcohol-fuelled nightlife, drug-linked party circuits, and a growing tolerance
for exploitative practices have, over time, been packaged as part of the “Goa
experience.” When local livelihoods
depend on demand, and demand is driven by indulgence, there is an inherent
incentive to promote, or at least overlook, misbehaviour and public nuisance.
Activities that once might have been questioned are normalized as 'responsible'
if they contribute to local income.
When
economic gain is tied to practices that strain ecosystems and dilute cultural
meaning, lines become harder to draw. Regulations are seen as obstacles rather
than safeguards. Public spaces are treated as expendable, and accountability is
diluted. It is not that individuals suddenly abandon their values, but that the
environment in which they act steadily reshapes what feels acceptable.
While
Goans decry the environmental degradation, unchecked development and influx of
migrants, there is no drop noticed in the local mood and participation when it
comes to booze, food and music festivals all around the year. Goans decry the
nuisance caused by tourism-related activities, but at the same time participate
in the noisy cultural festivals promoted by the tourism industry. They endorse
the propaganda that Goa is about indulgence unlimited. This is definitely not
consistent behaviour.
To
express outrage at this immorality and crime while continuing to endorse their
underlying drivers is to ignore cause and effect. It is about normalisation of
hypocrisy - decrying overdevelopment while quietly benefiting from it,
condemning corruption while navigating it as a necessity, celebrating culture
in public while neglecting it in private life.
Goa
is not merely being “lost” to external forces. It is, in many ways, the
predictable outcome of a collective and cumulative contradiction, a society that
wants to enjoy the benefits of rapid economic growth while preserving the
illusion of an untouched paradise. It is being hollowed from within, through
everyday compromises, selective denial, and a growing disconnect between public
posturing and private reality. In simpler terms, it is about Goans wanting to
eat the cake and keep it too.
In
the given circumstances, protecting one’s “individual sanity” becomes crucial.
It is not a retreat into apathy, as some might argue, but a refusal to
participate in collective self-deception. It means recognising that not every
slogan reflects substance, and not every public movement is rooted in
integrity. It requires the courage to step back from the performative urgency
of outrage and turn the focus inwards. It requires sustained introspection and
action to ensure that our thinking, attitudes and actions do not enable the
very situation we are politically engaged in battling.
Performative
outrage thrives on visibility, not depth. It rewards the quickest take, the
sharpest barb, the most shareable image. It does not reward the slow,
unglamorous work of understanding how a problem is structured, who benefits
from it, and what it would take to dismantle it. A society that avoids
self-examination cannot sustain genuine reform; it can only recycle outrage in
increasingly hollow forms.
Those
in positions of power understand this rhythm all too well. They have learned
that time is on their side. If they can withstand the initial surge of public
anger, they can often outlast it. Each unfinished episode of outrage chips away
at public trust. People begin to doubt whether speaking up makes any
difference. Fatigue sets in, cynicism follows.
The
challenge is to resist the pull of immediate emotional reaction. Not every
alarming post in social media reflects the full picture. Seeking out primary
sources, local reporting, and diverse perspectives becomes essential in
navigating a landscape where influence is often performed rather than
practiced.
Such
introspection and restraint is neither glamorous nor immediately rewarding. It
does not produce viral moments or visible victories. But it is the foundation
if any meaningful change is to come about. Saving Goa requires a shift from
reaction to reflection. It
must move from expression to strategy, from visibility to impact. Not every
issue demands the same kind of response, and not every response should be
immediate. There is value in pausing long enough to understand what, exactly,
is at stake. Without this groundwork, even the loudest protest risks missing
its mark and ends up compounding and complicating the problem.



