The phrase “short-term pain for long-term gain” has become a political cliché in Papua New Guinea’s economic policy lexicon. Yet its persistent use, especially under the Marape government, now demands rigorous scrutiny—not just of its intent, but of its outcomes.
Whether invoked in reference to the closure of the Porgera gold mine, the stalling and renegotiation of the Papua LNG project, or the recently discussed devaluation of the Kina, this phrase conceals more than it reveals. What precisely is meant by “short term”? And who bears the brunt of the “pain” while awaiting a promise of eventual prosperity?
Let’s unpack the reality behind these major decisions.
Porgera: A Five-Year Closure and a Ten-Year Wait
When the Porgera mine was closed in 2019, the promise was that Papua New Guineans would benefit more under a new arrangement. Five years later, the mine has yet to resume commercial production, and current projections suggest that meaningful revenue flows to the state may take another decade. That’s 15 years between shutdown and tangible benefit—hardly “short term” by any development standard.
During this period, employment collapsed, illegal mining surged, and local economic ecosystems deteriorated. The state, instead of gaining revenue, resorted to expanding sovereign debt to cover budget shortfalls—K34 billion in new borrowing under the Budget Repair Plan alone.
Papua LNG: A Delay Measured in Billions
The original terms of the Papua LNG project, secured under former Treasurer Charles Abel, promised PNG a 58% net cash flow. In 2019, this project was halted and restructured under the mantra of “getting more for our people.” Today, we find ourselves looking at a delay of up to a decade. Had the original timeline held, gas exports would have commenced in 2024. Now, industry watchers project first gas between 2028 and 2030.
The delay has cost Papua New Guinea dearly: tens of thousands of jobs not created, $13 billion in lost investment (K52 billion), and continued foreign exchange shortages—all at a time when commodity prices could have helped buffer our economy.
Economic Mismanagement or Strategic Patience?
Proponents argue that these actions were about reasserting sovereignty and extracting better deals for PNG. But in practice, the costs of these delays have been passed directly to ordinary citizens: rising prices, stagnant wages, foreign exchange crises, and declining confidence in the government’s economic stewardship.
The broader risk is that “short-term pain” has become a euphemism for policy failure and political indecision. Pain, in the eyes of the technocrats and advisors, may be represented as numbers and projections. But for citizens, it is lived reality—felt in rising food prices, unpaid school fees, job losses, and an eroding sense of hope.
If the “short term” is now defined as 13–15 years, what happens to public trust, political stability, and investor confidence in the meantime? Most governments globally operate on five-year electoral cycles precisely because citizens demand visible progress within that window. Asking an entire population to wait over a decade for results is politically reckless and economically unsustainable.
Time to Redefine Economic Leadership
The Marape government’s economic trajectory appears to be built on high-risk, long-horizon planning that is disconnected from the daily struggles of its people. This raises a fundamental question: Should a government remain in power if its own timelines for recovery stretch well beyond the electoral mandate, while providing little relief in the interim?
As 2027 approaches, members of Parliament—and the electorate—must consider whether continued faith in this strategy is warranted. The central test will be whether “short-term pain” has led to any credible long-term gain. So far, the results are not encouraging.
In one of the world’s most resource-rich, Christian-majority nations, it is not a lack of potential that has led to hardship—it is poor planning, political arrogance, and misplaced economic assumptions. PNG deserves a leadership that understands that deliberate pain, without accountability or results, is not a strategy—it is negligence.