

By Dr Marlene Attzs, Economist
Email: marlene.attzs@gmail.com
In recent weeks, public discourse in Trinidad and Tobago has been dominated by debate surrounding the proposed Zones of Special Operations (ZOSO) legislation—a Bill that ultimately did not pass in Parliament.
The intensity of the national conversation is understandable. Crime has become one of the most profound anxieties facing our society. Families live with fear, communities feel exposed, and many citizens understandably yearn for decisive action that promises safety and order.
Yet moments such as these demand not only urgency, but wisdom.
Crime is not new to our country, but its persistence and evolving nature have deeply shaken public confidence. Violent crime, organised networks, and the erosion of community safety have forced difficult questions upon us. It is therefore right and appropriate, that the State seeks effective tools to respond. But how we respond—and within what framework—matters profoundly.
The ZOSO Bill was presented as one such response. In principle, few would dispute the need for firm action. However, in a democratic society grounded in constitutionalism and respect for human dignity, how we pursue security are as important as the outcome we seek.
At the heart of this debate lies a deeper question: What kind of society do we want to be? Do we wish to become a nation governed primarily by fear and force, or one guided by justice, accountability, and the careful balancing of rights and responsibilities?
Catholic Social Teaching reminds us that true peace is not merely the absence of violence, but the presence of justice. Security achieved at the expense of dignity or transparency is ultimately fragile and unsustainable. It is from this perspective that concerns about the ZOSO Bill must be understood.
As an Independent Senator, I took an oath to uphold the Constitution of the Republic of Trinidad and Tobago, to act without fear or favour, and to discharge my responsibilities in the best interest of the people. I do not take that oath lightly. I am not a legal luminary, nor do I pretend to be. But I am deeply conscious of the privilege and responsibility entrusted to me.
In that role, I often benefit from the insights of legal minds, constitutional scholars, and practitioners—and I weigh those perspectives alongside my own understanding of the social and economic realities confronting our country. That combination of legal principle and lived reality is essential if we are to craft policies that are both effective and just.
I am humbled by the opportunity to serve, and I take seriously the responsibility to contribute, in whatever way I can, to building a better Trinidad and Tobago for all our people.
It is in that spirit that I suggested amendments to the ZOSO Bill. The issue was never about denying the seriousness of crime or the urgency of response. Rather, it was about the way the legislation was presented and the refusal to entertain any amendments. The declaration that no changes would be considered effectively closed the door to dialogue—the very process through which democratic institutions strengthen legislation.
Independent institutions, including the Independent Senators, exist precisely for this reason. They are not obstacles to governance; they are safeguards. Their role is to test ideas, raise concerns, and ensure that laws are sound, proportionate, and sustainable. This function is enshrined in our Constitution and lies at the heart of democratic accountability.
The absence of a sunset clause was particularly concerning, as such provisions ensure that extraordinary powers are reviewed and do not become permanent features of governance.
Equally important is the recognition that crime cannot be addressed by enforcement alone. A truly effective approach must be holistic—combining policing with education, employment, mental health support, and community development—or we risk treating symptoms while leaving root causes untouched.
Development, in its truest sense, is about the flourishing of the human person—economically, socially, spiritually, and morally. Laws must serve that end, not undermine it.
The ZOSO debate, though contentious, offers an opportunity for national reflection. It challenges us to think beyond immediate pressures and to consider the long-term character of our society. It reminds us that strong nations are not built by haste or coercion, but by wisdom, restraint, and a commitment to the common good.
Yes, crime must be confronted—firmly and decisively. But it must be done within a framework that respects constitutional values, invites accountability, and leaves room for learning and improvement. Only then can we claim to be building not just a safer nation, but a better one.
That’s my point of view!