The news of the school closure in the village of Đulići due to a lack of students evokes genuine sadness. Emptying houses, elderly people living out their days in silence, and young people leaving for the cities in search of a better life—a picture familiar to many. And immediately, a habitual, almost reflexive reaction arises: "The state must do something! The authorities have done nothing to keep people here!".
It is widely believed that the state is responsible for the well-being of its citizens and should solve such problems. But what if its very actions—or rather, the very logic of its actions—are part of the problem? What if, in trying to "help," it only makes the situation worse?
Education in villages: care or control?
A clear example is the school in Đulići. It is reported that "significant funds" were invested in its modernization. The state spent taxpayer money on renovations, but the school closed anyway. Why does this happen? Could it be that a centralized education system, with its uniform standards and plans, is fundamentally incapable of operating effectively in small, unique communities?
The state finances "school buildings," allocating a budget for their maintenance. But isn't this a waste of money if there is no one to study in these buildings? What if the money "followed" the student, not the school? Imagine if parents had the right to choose whom to pay for their children's education. What would happen then? Perhaps in villages with at least 5-10 children, small private schools or innovative educational centers would appear. Other, yet unknown forms of education would emerge because there would be a demand and the opportunity to meet it.
The village economy: why can't one make a living here?
But schools do not empty on their own. They empty because families leave the villages. And why do they leave? It is hardly just due to a lack of love for their homeland. Rather, it is about the lack of a basic opportunity to support a family.
And here again, questions arise for the state.
Could it be that high taxes and complex, convoluted business regulations make starting a business in a village practically impossible? Studies show that the highest number of parafiscal levies (hidden taxes and fees) in Montenegro are found in the municipalities of the Northern Region—the poorest and least competitive. Doesn't it seem that the state is stifling business initiative precisely where it is needed most?
And what is the result of high-profile populist measures? Everyone remembers the disaster with lifelong benefits for mothers, which not only cost the budget a huge amount of money but was also declared discriminatory, undermining trust in any future government initiatives. Isn't this an example of how short-sighted, ill-conceived decisions cause long-term harm?
Is there another way?
If state intervention doesn't work or is even harmful, what could work? What if, instead of asking the state for more money and regulation, one were to ask for more freedom?
What would happen if the power to set taxes and business regulations were largely transferred to the local level, to individual municipalities (opštinas)? What if they were given a real opportunity to compete with each other for residents and businesses? Wouldn't this lead to some municipalities, especially in depressed regions, seeing this as their chance? Lowering local taxes, maximally simplifying procedures for opening a café, a workshop, or a small farm—wouldn't this become a powerful stimulus for economic revival? Which municipality would an investor or simply a person wanting to work for themselves rather come to—one where barriers and levies await them, or one where they are welcomed and offered the best conditions?
How would life in the village change if fast and stable internet became available everywhere thanks to competition among private providers, for whom there are no artificial barriers? How many people could work remotely, staying in their homes and revitalizing the local economy?
And finally, in light of recent discussions about the new law on foreigners, isn't a major opportunity being missed? Instead of introducing new restrictions, what if special, preferential conditions were created for foreigners willing to live and start businesses in less developed regions? Could the influx of new people, fresh ideas, and private capital be the very impulse that these territories so desperately need?
Is the key to saving the villages really in the hands of officials in the capital, drawing up another "development strategy"? Or, perhaps, has this key always been with the residents themselves, and all that is needed is to simply stop preventing them from using it?