Gozo greets dawn with mislaid 'timing in sheets' to be filled in late during the day at various government departments. By the time the cathedral bells strike ten, many workers who "signed in" now head to various workplaces to begin their second job for the day, slip into restaurants at tourist resorts that only lift shutters after ten because the cook and waiters still collect a government wage. This daily shuffle sets the rhythm of the island and chokes any shop-owner, farmer, or tour-operator who tries to run a tight operation while the state bankrolls a morning ghost shift.
Malta employs about 17 per cent of its mainland workforce in government jobs. Gozo employs roughly 33 per cent, a share that balloons before every election as ministries exploit their power of incumbency to defend the jobs as compensation for loyalty. Yet figures underline the bare fact that private firms generate tourism, remote-work services and light manufacturing faster than the public behemoth. The gap between the islands keeps growing even while Gozo courts private investment.
Gozo Bishop Anton Teuma captured local frustration during a feast-day homily in Għajnsielem. He faced a packed church and declared that anyone collecting a salary without honest work cheats neighbours, children, and God. Newspapers quoted his words the next morning, and phone-ins buzzed with frustrated callers describing workers who clock in at dawn, stroll out for breakfast and never return. The homily struck home because locals have whispered that truth for years: public employment in Gozo increasingly rewards loyalty, not performance.
The problem of waste begins with the hiring process, affecting efficiency and resource allocation. Government party committees compile lists of supporters who need a job and ministers instruct departments to find room. Managers receive new staff without clear roles, so they assign token tasks or leave recruits to idle. A supervisor at the Citadel notes his work schedule holds more labourers than daily projects require, so crews rotate temporary shifts that fill the time sheet but not the pending tasks.
Gozo Channel, the ferry operator, illustrates the spiral. The company already pays some employees about €7,500 a year in overtime despite hiring extra contractors. Accounts reveal mounting losses, yet directors approve fresh intakes each season. Internal memos show political pressure to absorb job-seekers. Crew members speak frankly: management prefers extra hands during campaigns because every contract translates into dozens of grateful relatives.
Excess labour inflates costs that increase the national debt. Taxpayers across Malta fund the wages, overtime, fuel subsidies, and pension rights of a workforce that exceeds operational needs. Ministers promise efficiency drives, yet the payroll keeps swelling because each disappointed follower would anger a voting group that can swing voting patterns. Private businesses notice the distortion first. A catering establishment loses a worker every second month to a government post that guarantees longer weekends. A local auto mechanic raises hourly pay but still watches apprentices leave for a government post where discipline rarely extends beyond morning coffee.
The practice erodes the work ethic. Young graduates weigh options and see guaranteed increments, family-friendly rosters and little accountability in the civil service. Risk looks irrational, so few pursue technology start-ups or skilled trades. Banks hesitate to finance those who still dare, because lending models score ventures on human resources retention. If a coder can jump ship to a desk job with holiday perks, lenders assign a higher default probability and offer poorer terms.
Beyond simply serving food, restaurants have a wide range of secondary effects on the surrounding areas and communities. Owners cannot open kitchens before half past ten because cooks and servers must drive to their public post, clock a token presence and then sneak back. Some carry uniforms in the car, changing en route. The delay frustrates tourists who expect early breakfasts and deters locals who crave a quick espresso before school runs. Reduced hours shrink takings and tip income, so the cycle nudges more workers toward the shelter of a public wage. An entire service ecosystem bends around the clock-in clock-out charade.
House prices follow the same curve. Public wages arrive with certainty, allowing bank managers to approve mortgages even when borrowers hold side engagements. Demand pushes rents higher, so legitimate private-sector employees struggle to live near workplaces. A chartered accountant calculates that the average Gozitan household now spends 32% of disposable income on housing, a ratio that rises to 40% for couples who rely solely on market employment.
Ministries champion headline infrastructure: upgraded quays, new ferries, new hospital, and Marsalforn breakwater. They seldom tackle maintenance gaps that would raise real productivity. The mismatch between flashy investment and everyday practice highlights a system that celebrates ribbon-cutting more than results.
Businesses that remain lean adopt coping strategies. Some import seasonal staff from Sicily or the Balkans who accept lower wages without the lure of public positions. Others automate aggressively, installing self-service kiosks that replace tellers who decamped to government counters. Yet, automation has limits in a tourism economy that sells human warmth; guests expect smiles, local tips and personal stories, none of which a machine can deliver.
Educators are perceptive and note changes in the cultural landscape. Essays from fourteen-year-olds outline career goals: police officer, clerk at the agriculture department, deckhand at the ferry, nurse in the hospital ward. It is rare to see the emergence of entrepreneurial ventures. The curriculum includes enterprise projects, yet parents discourage risk.
Economists forecast that the economy will experience a prolonged period of sluggish growth and expansion in the long term. A labour market that rewards attendance over output cannot sustain innovation. Productivity stalls, public revenue underperforms, and governments face deficits that force new borrowing or taxes. When Brussels audits structural funds, inspectors expose administrations that disguise recurring wages as regional development.
It's a double blow to the private sector: first from talent drain, then from heavier tax burdens that finance the drain. Entrepreneurs open spreadsheets and watch margins shrink under energy surcharges, payroll tax hikes and compliance fees that feed ministries bloated beyond need. Some companies and organisations choose to reduce the scale of their back-office operations to enhance efficiency and cut costs. Gozo risks a scenario where only government stipends support consumption while productive capital migrates.
However, it is important to note that solutions to this problem are available and readily accessible. Reformers could freeze head-counts, move redundant employees into skill-retraining programmes tied to export-oriented firms and publish departmental dashboards every month. Ferries could adopt lean crewing models based on international maritime norms, with overtime capped and digitally logged. A tougher route demands courage: link budgets to measurable service delivery and let managers dismiss chronic under-performers. Elections loom, though, and no main party volunteers for that fight.
The ultimate authority rests with the citizens, whose voices hold the power to decide. They discount potholed roads, appreciate subsidised ferry tickets, free medical appointments, free medicine, yet they also endure late restaurant breakfasts, and widening inequality. If voters demand accountability, legislators will adapt. If voters continue to trade ballots for payroll slots, the island will sink deeper into dependency.
Gozo brims with capable, motivated people; what's missing are the rewards that spur them to build and innovate instead of merely clocking time. A civil servant who locks the office door at nine and flips omelettes till midnight commits a fraud against neighbours who finance that salary. The bishop spoke truth because daily experience confirms it. The island must choose between productive dynamism and complacent cheque collection. Malta's mainland confronted the same choice decades ago and shifted toward private growth. Gozo can follow, but only if leaders end the vote-for-job bargain and unleash a labour market where effort earns reward and idleness earns nothing.