From Easter to Pentecost… what’s the plan?
April 15, 2026
Close to your centre
April 15, 2026

When power fails the common good

By Dr Margaret Nakhid-Chatoor

psychologist and educator

mncpsych17@gmail.com

 

In every society there exists an unspoken psychological contract between citizens and those entrusted with authority. Power is not granted merely to govern; it is granted to protect, to shape and to serve the collective good.

When that expectation begins to erode, the consequences extend far beyond policy debates and parliamentary exchanges. They enter quietly into the emotional lives of ordinary people looking on.

At present in Trinidad and Tobago, many citizens are grappling with increasing frustration over political decision-making and perceived ethical inconsistencies. While public discussion may focus on the legality of issues, on party allegiances or constitutional procedures, insufficient attention is given to a deeper and more intimate consequence of these meanderings: the psychological toll of disillusionment.

As a psychologist, I am often asked by my university students and clients, ‘What is your opinion on what is happening?’ It is a question that reflects not just their curiosity, but their distress, as they search, through my answer, for some emotional stability. They are trying to understand how to feel in a climate that feels unstable. At times, I find myself at a loss for words—not because there is nothing to say, but because what they are seeking is reassurance that their unease is not unfounded or irrational.

Many of our elected and non-elected officials fail to consider that political systems also shape emotional climates. When people begin to suspect that power is exercised for self-interest rather than for the common good, something shifts internally. Trust, which is foundational to social stability, becomes fragile. Suspicion replaces optimism. Civic pride gives way to a guardedness in what you say or do, alert to the fact that persons are watching and looking on.

Psychologically, these repeated disappointments in those in authority, resemble a kind of institutional betrayal. ‘We look for dat!’ as some critics say. We look for that? In my opinion, not at all! As human beings, we have always depended on systems—families, schools, religious bodies and governments—to provide a guided sense of fairness and predictability.

When those systems are perceived to violate that basic trust, the injury is relational, as the sense of being ‘protected’ by the larger structure weakens, and with it, our fundamental layer of psychological security. To whom do we turn now?

Despite the naysayers, Trinidad and Tobago is a real place, with real, ethical and fair-minded citizens. But when people say, ‘that’s just how things are in this country’, the phrase reflects the extent to which many persons have adapted or given in to repeated disappointments and behaviours that once shocked them, and ethical breaches and blatant lies begin to feel predictable and anticipated, rather than immoralities to be confronted.

Increasingly, there are worrying signs, especially among our young people—suppressed anger, irritability, interpersonal conflict. Many are struggling to regulate these emotions, to tolerate the frustrations of joblessness and hopelessness, and to resolve conflict within their families.

When national discourse is saturated with hostility, accusations, and distrust, it can subtly legitimise similar patterns in personal relationships, as the instability that persons perceive in the wider society can be often mirrored in their homes.

More troubling still is the rise in suicidal ideation among youth. While suicide is multi-factorial and personal, we cannot ignore the broader social context in which young minds are developing.

Children and adolescents require stability, hope and a future that they can look forward to. When the adult world and wider society appear to be chaotic, divided among ourselves, or morally compromised, it can weaken their sense of direction and belonging. Hopelessness flourishes where vision is unclear.

So that power can fail the common good. Power is failing the common good. Governance is not an abstract, as many political and societal issues are discussed in our homes, workspaces and the wider community.

If we are witnessing rising cynicism, family strain, anxiety, and withdrawal, this is a public mental health issue that needs to be addressed, by achieving a balance that calls for open-mindedness, empathy, and a willingness to both speak and listen actively.

Balance doesn’t mean everyone has to agree—it means ensuring that all voices are heard, and that each perspective is given thoughtful consideration. It’s also about maintaining respect, even when opinions diverge sharply. Without this balance, discourse can become dominated by one-sided narratives, leading to misunderstanding or polarisation.

In sum, the well-being of our nation is measured not only in the fiscal reports of statistical indices, but in the psychological state of our citizens. When power fails the common good, the injury is collective.

If we can recognise that truth, this is the first step towards restoring both trust and hope in our people, and in our systems. Take care.