Commentary | Beyond GDP Why Economic Growth Alone Cannot Secure Wellbeing
As debt, rising costs and mental health pressures strain households worldwide, Tonga’s heavy reliance on remittances shows why growth figures alone cannot capture the true wellbeing of a nation.
Capitalism’s record often looks impressive on the surface: billions lifted from extreme poverty, longer lives, wider literacy. Yet beneath these numbers lies a quieter reality. The modern economy has not erased hardship so much as reshaped it. Debt, financial insecurity and mental strain now touch even the wealthiest societies, and the effects ripple outward to smaller nations such as Tonga.
The global evidence is striking. In the United States, household debt has surged past US$17 trillion, with more than 40 per cent of adults carrying credit card balances month to month. Student loans exceed US$1.6 trillion. In Britain, the household debt-to-income ratio remains among the highest in Europe. In Australia, nearly one in three households are in mortgage stress. These are not isolated problems of struggling economies; they are structural features of advanced markets.
Debt is often presented as a pathway to opportunity, whether to secure a home, pay for education or start a business. In practice it increasingly leaves families living on the edge. Wages stagnate while the cost of housing, healthcare and energy climbs. The so-called flexible gig economy offers irregular hours but little security. In the United States, medical bills remain the leading cause of bankruptcy. In the United Kingdom, millions wait for mental health treatment. In Australia, crisis lines report record calls linked to financial stress. The World Health Organization estimates that depression and anxiety already cost the global economy US$1 trillion a year in lost productivity.
For Tonga, these pressures are felt differently but no less sharply. Remittances account for nearly 40 per cent of GDP, one of the highest rates in the world. They provide a lifeline for food, school fees and housing. Yet they also tie Tonga’s wellbeing to the financial health of relatives abroad, many of whom live with heavy debt and rising living costs in Australia, New Zealand or the United States. At home, reliance on imported food makes families vulnerable to price spikes, eroding already tight budgets. Strong family networks soften the blow, but the pressure of meeting obligations both locally and overseas leaves many in a permanent state of anxiety.
The political challenge is how to respond. In major economies, policymakers often measure success through GDP growth, budget surpluses or fiscal restraint. But these figures cannot capture exhaustion, uncertainty or the quiet stress of debt. By contrast, countries that invest in universal healthcare, housing protections and stronger welfare systems show that economies can be managed in ways that reduce insecurity.
For Tonga, the lesson is not that capitalism has failed, but that its costs must be recognised and addressed. Economic growth is valuable, but so too are resilience and mental wellbeing. For a small nation dependent on remittances and imports, strengthening food security, investing in health including mental health, and protecting households from shocks may prove just as important as chasing headline growth figures.
The true measure of an economy, whether in Washington or Nuku‘alofa, is not only what it produces but how secure its people feel. By that standard, many societies, Tonga included, face risks that can no longer be overlooked.
Tu’ifua Vailena
