This is a book review of Struggle, reform, boom and bust by Stephen Howes, Martin Davies, Rohan Fox, Maholopa Laveil, Manoj K. Pandey, Kelly Samof and Dek Joe Sum, published in August 2025 for the coming 50th anniversary of independence.
This important new work provides a clear, readable, and indeed enjoyable overview of 50 years of economic policy and outcomes in Papua New Guinea, from 1975 to the present. It fills a gap and it needs to be read by a wide audience. As the authors point out, there has been no such book-length overview of PNG’s economic history for more than a decade.
The book’s title refers to four periods of the country’s history, first identified by the authors in the economic chapters of Papua New Guinea: government, economy and society, edited by Howes and Lekshmi Pillai in 2022. Those periods can be seen below in Figure 1 (adapted from Figure 1.2 of the book).
Figure 1: Real gross domestic product per person in Papua New Guinea
Source: PNG Economic Database.
The initial period of “struggle” proceeds from independence to the 1989 closing of the Panguna mine amidst violence in Bougainville; the “reform” period covers the tumultuous crisis and reforms of the 1990s. The “boom” commenced around 2004 and was characterised by productive mining and the construction from 2010-2013 of the PNG liquid natural gas project. The slow “bust” began with the fall in oil prices in 2014 and was marked by a failure of resource projects to live up to revenue expectations, restrictions on foreign exchange availability and rising economic nationalism in the political sphere.
Once introduced, these four periods stick in the reader’s mind and are a clear and useful conceptualisation. The bulk of the book is structured by the periods rather than thematically (fiscal policy, security and crime, etc.) Narratively this works. The book is a great read, and when we are finished with the eight chapters covering the four periods, we are well primed for the concluding few chapters on overview themes and trends.
All four periods were characterised by over-optimism about future economic growth and government revenue on the back of resource projects. The book is right to avoid being “mesmerised” (the authors’ word) by the resource sector, important as it is in PNG. The World Bank’s estimate of PNG’s total non-renewable natural capital per person is only about US$6,000, much less than Australia (US$92,000) or Norway (US$23,000) for example. My extract of the Bank’s figures differs slightly from those of the book’s but not in any way to change the substantive point.
Of at least equal importance to resources are the political institutions of PNG, and the weak and incomplete connections of people to the formal economy and state. Formal employment has not kept up with population growth and remains a tiny fraction (less than 5%) of the total population. The formal agriculture economy, its exports in particular, has stagnated. The authors note that: “Infrastructure and service delivery have worsened over large parts of the country, and some of the country’s social indicators are now among the worst in the world.”
However, one thing that the book is not is a close study of economic reality on the ground from the perspective of its poorest participants. Nor does it try to cover the cultural aspects of the massive economic change PNG has been going through in these 50 years. It tends instead to focus on the big picture and the overview. Overall, this is probably the right choice, although I would have appreciated a chapter diving deep into the informal economy and another looking at own-use food production. These issues are mentioned and explored, but inevitably only briefly given data limitations and the space available.
The authors recommend four key economic policy changes. But they rightly shrink from identifying the broader institutional changes that would help PNG out of its trap of hyper-politics, weak state, litigiousness, unsettled decentralisation and widespread insecurity: “PNG will have to find its own way forward.”
As a statistician with some responsibility for doing something about it, I fully appreciate how data on PNG is poor against nearly all criteria — coverage, frequency, timeliness and, in many cases, quality. Improving this is a non-trivial challenge. There is material uncertainty about such basics as the population size; and there has as yet been no household economic survey for estimating poverty by modern standard definitions. Yet as this book shows, there is data out there sufficient to draw at least some conclusions.
A strong feature of Struggle, reform, boom and bust is its Annex B, which provides extra charts and interpretation of numerous economic time series. Throughout, the book makes extensive use of the Papua New Guinea Economic Database maintained by the ANU’s Development Policy Centre and first used substantively in the 2022 work referred to earlier. That asset was created to allow a common starting point for data-based stories of PNG’s post-independence economic history. As a user of data myself, I particularly appreciate the transparency and reusability of this effort.
This timely book is extremely readable and will be of interest well beyond economists to anyone engaged in PNG’s past, present and future. I have already recommended it to several people and would suggest it be mandatory reading for those in any area adjacent to economic and public policy for PNG. This includes both newcomers, and the old hands seeking an update and a fresh look at the sweep of history.
At the fiftieth anniversary since the independence of Papua New Guinea there is introspection and reflection on the achievements or otherwise during the first half century. A common theme that has emerged is the lack of basic services and economic opportunity for much of the population. The work by Howes et al; Struggle, Reform, Boom and Bust an Economic History of Papua New Guinea since Independence has set out the causes of the symptoms. But as the need for assistance is arguably greater than ever, have we got the right prescription?
Communities are the bedrock of PNG society. The common factor in an ocean of diversity and difference that characterises the country. By contrast, the aspirations of all communities are surprisingly similar: dependable health and education services and economic opportunity for the burgeoning under 25 year demographic.
However, for two generations communities have not shared in the process of nation building in any meaningful way. The political process has seemingly forgotten them except at election time when the those chasing votes hand out cash to buy support. The only assistance the average man or woman can expect for the following five years until voting comes around again.
In my view if development partners have made an error, it has been to seemingly put all the eggs into strengthening an alien system of governance that has no relevance to those living at community level. A system inherited at independence that does not throw up elected or appointed leadership with a desire to apply the concept of administration for the common good. In practice unless the elected person is a relative, it is unlikely they will be relevant to you. An example of hyper regionalism with all it entails.
This situation of inherent distrust of people not related to you or who do not come from your immediate area exists everywhere. So, what is decided by 122 members in the national parliament in Port Moresby or even at provincial level might just as well have taken place in a parallel universe as far as most communities are concerned. Despite the passage of time since 1975 this undercurrent of distrust applies to nearly everyone including elected representatives and public servants at every level and the evidence is there to see. A visit to any district or local level government area will reveal closed schools, un-stocked clinics, broken bridges, an absence of local enterprise and a rising tide of youth dissatisfaction.
Without at least a minimal level of trust from the 85 percent of the population who live in rural settings in the commitment of government or integrity of public servants, there is no mechanism to leverage community development. And yet it is this system that has dominated the focus of the development effort for five decades. I would argue that until communities are included as partners in the process and given an equal seat at the table, a tangible stake on their terms in the outcomes that affect them where they live, there can be no change. And adjusting focus to give communities equal billing would require a fundamental shift in how partners conceptualise and apply models of change.
I can’t see this happening while funders continue to “improve” service delivery via a top down one way street through a government instrumentality. When I observe that models emanating from Canberra appear to be focussed on ensuring sub national provincial administrations take ownership for setting and implementing polices to meet the needs of their people I see meaningless jargon. “Their people” do not share this view. In a country of 850 languages and untold independent clans living on their country they see another level of bureaucratic impediment to progress few can relate to staffed by people they do not trust who will do nothing for them. That is their reality.
Nation building has to be a two way street. I believe that until we collectively envision solutions around economic activity, food security, primary health, education and women’s empowerment through a community lens as seen by the bedrock units of society and importantly support them to drive that process on their terms in an enabling partnership with government, there are unlikely to be any solutions.
Unlike 1975 when good will and optimism prevailed and people were prepared to give it a go, in 2025 the mood has changed. In particular the under 25 demographic, now connected by X are fed up with the lack of options and open to promises offered by less desirable parties. The Bougainville question has to be resolved lest Bougainville leadership declare unilateral independence and look for a strong backing partner. Some other provinces are of similar mind and are watching from the wings. Other actors could exploit this.
Our own performance has not been without fault. Over the years our institutional memory has been found wanting, policy prescriptions inconsistent and naive and attention to the impact of our own corporate citizens and government regrettable and not just on Bougainville. A situation that I think indicates our political class do not understand a vitally important country 4km north of the Queensland/ Torres Strait Islands border. A November 2020 article by Professor Howes in this forum entitled “PNG on the border. Too close to ignore but what to do?” posed questions about this but five years later the situation remains largely the same. Stability is fragile and time is running out.
Hence my prescription as someone who has much affection for this incredible country is to stop travelling in ever decreasing circles and with urgency in partnership with respected traditional and government leaders develop a powerful, visionary economic, health and education enabling package directed at improving equity and opportunity for 12 going on 20 million rural people to grow their economy from the ground up in ways that respects their wishes, preserves their environment, paves the way for more reliable and sustainable services and gives the young demographic renewed hope because the alternatives do not bear thinking about.