Economy Without Keys: How We Are Managed by Abundance and Trapped by Decision

We live daily paradoxes that we barely pay attention to. Our cities and villages are filled with modern cars, illuminated shops, and smartphones in every hand. From the outside, the scene looks like a natural image of a contemporary economy. But behind this facade lies a harsher reality: our lives are suspended by a tap. A water tap that is turned on or off, an electrical switch that is disconnected or restored, and a fuel truck that is allowed to pass or blocked. We have the tools, but we do not have the keys to operate them.

This is "false abundance." Consumer abundance that conceals a deep structural fragility. An economy that appears modern in form but is fundamentally powerless because it does not control the simplest inputs of life: energy, water, and fuel. In this model, economic capacity is not measured by the size of consumption but by the ability to endure when this consumption halts involuntarily.

The problem here is not technical or administrative, but structural par excellence. The Palestinian economy, as it has been shaped over the decades, was designed to function as a dependent consumer market, not as an independent productive economy. More than 85% of the electricity consumed in the West Bank is purchased from Israel, with the annual electricity bill estimated at over three billion shekels, draining household income and the local economy. Occupation is not managed solely by checkpoints, but also by monthly bills.

In this context, many discussions about "improving networks" or "expanding their capacity" seem incomplete, and sometimes misleading. They assume that the problem lies in the efficiency of the network and not in its nature, meaning they try to fix a tool that was designed primarily to be a control tool. Here lies the biggest trap: every investment in repairing the old network, without changing its logic, is an investment in deepening dependency.

Hence, the need arises to readdress the question from its roots: Do we need a better network, or a different relationship with the network? The thesis is simple in its formulation but radical in its results: the solution does not lie in waiting for international aid to rehabilitate networks over which we lack sovereignty, but in gradually becoming independent from them, through building decentralized alternatives that reduce fragility and expand the margin of decision-making.

This starts with energy. Relying on a centrally managed electricity grid politically before being technically managed makes the entire community a hostage to a single decision. In contrast, decentralized energy production through solar systems and micro-networks opens up a different perspective. The cost of these systems has dropped globally by more than 80% over the last decade, and the average home system recoups its costs within two to three years. The paradox is that the bill we finance dependency with can turn into an investment that provides households with a minimum level of energy security.

However, the trap of false abundance manifests clearly in the oil sector. The Palestinian citizen occasionally suffers from sudden supply shortages, directly impacting transportation, production, and the prices of essential goods. These crises are often not related to the absence of fuel in regional markets, but to the lack of a stable local stock capable of absorbing shocks. Despite discussions about plans to establish oil storage facilities, the reality still relies on a model dependent on continuous flows without actual reserves.

In this model, people's lives turn into a state of constant waiting: waiting for a truck, or approval, or the opening of a crossing. Any disruption in supply, no matter how brief, creates an immediate crisis because the margin of safety is almost nonexistent. The problem here is not purely technical or financial, but structural. Owning stock means possessing a minimum level of stability and decision-making, which the existing framework does not provide.

The same logic applies to gas. There are no real strategic gas reserves; instead, there are small operational tanks sufficient for limited days. Any disruption in supply immediately reflects on homes, bakeries, and hospitals. Again, gas is available in the region, but it is not accessible as a safety tool, because storage itself is absent.

The scene of false abundance would not be complete without addressing the "overloaded cash" in Palestinian banks. On paper, the situation seems reassuring: customer deposits in Palestinian banks have surpassed twenty-one billion dollars, a figure that reflects high cash liquidity. However, this abundance, like the abundance of energy, is constrained. A large portion of this liquidity does not transform into productive investment or independent infrastructure, but remains confined within the banking system, seeking security in an economy that lacks decision-making tools.

In contrast, estimates indicate that fuel consumption in the Palestinian territories exceeds one billion liters annually. We are faced with a large energy market in terms of demand, but it operates without stable strategic reserves, making fuel imported moment-to-moment, and susceptible to disruption in any crisis. Again, abundance in numbers; fragility in reality.

Energy, oil, gas, and cash are not separate issues, but different expressions of a single model: abundance in form, fragility in control. Electricity is available but can be cut off, fuel is close but uncertain, and liquid assets are high but unutilized. In every case, the problem is not the absence of the supplier, but the absence of the keys.

In conclusion, independence from the network does not mean isolation from the world, but rather restoring balance in the relationship with it. To be part of the system, not hostages to it. The real problem is not that we are poor in resources, but that we are poor in controlling them. We do not need new abundance; we need keys. When we have them, abundance transforms from an illusion... to a viable reality.