Region in crisis? Yes, up to a point. It could be a whole lot worse. Yes, we're no Singapore. But the Caribbean–T&T in particular–has a whole lot going for it.
Doubt me? Try teaching at Costaatt. You get a bunch of bright, imaginative students who are juggling families, jobs and modest incomes to earn themselves a degree.
Most aren't too hot at rambling paragraphs of classically footnoted prose–though a few of them are. But ask them to turn out a PowerPoint: they create, and they communicate.
Social media, cable channels, foreign travel–these students are outward-looking, ambitious and globally aware. At UTT and UWI, from what I've seen, it's the same story. Same story too, for a good few who've chosen the non-academic route.
Now for the big-picture stuff. We're the Mediterranean of the Americas.
America has its differences with Venezuela, but they're temporarily estranged neighbours.
They may bitch a bit, but at some level, they're talking the same language–quite often literally, as well as metaphorically. The same goes for Cuba.
Compare and contrast the non-relationships which criss-cross the Mediterranean: France and Algeria; Italy and Libya; Egypt and Greece.
Both seas have boatloads of migrants; but from afar, the desperation stakes look higher in the Med.
In that third landlocked sea–between China, Vietnam and Malaysia, running northwards to Japan–dangerous scraps are now brewing over uninhabited islets, wounded pride and potential oil and gas. No joy and brotherhood there.
But yes, the Caribbean has its problems.
At the macroeconomic level, there's painfully slow growth and rising debt.
In the real economy, we're right next to the world's biggest tourist market: but the region's leading industry is adrift.
For energy-rich T&T, there's inspiring talk about diversification, but not much reality. Guyana and Suriname, meanwhile, bob up and down with each swing of the gold price.
Agriculture? Forget it. Soils and climate are fine, but half a century of protected markets for sugar and bananas was a gigantic missed opportunity. Nobody wants to farm; except for ganja.
Construction and natural resources? We're talking Chinese.
Governance is the big one. Again, it's a glass half-full. Formal freedoms are intact. But nobody sees politics as a constructive forum to debate future policy choices.
In T&T, I can think of just one policy difference between the two main parties–the UNC wants more roads, and the PNM wants a railway.
Otherwise, it's one set of whataboutery; faces, networks and corruption stories. In the rest of Caricom it's much the same, with a bit more race in the mix in Guyana, and a bit less in Jamaica.
To be fair, Britain's election next Thursday also looks an unedifying mess. And America's next year won't be a lot better.
Then there's violent crime. Right across the region, we have world-class murder rates, lacklustre policing, and record-breaking judicial delays.
And the most successful piece of regional integration? Linking English-speaking and Hispanic Caribbean from the grassroots up, and dealing profitably with the big continents on either side...yes, it's the drug trade.
Religions? They get all sweaty, worked up and excited about sex (don't we all?)–but they have almost nothing to say about criminal morality, whether white-collar or street-gang variety.
And those bright young kids? A tiny careerist minority aside, they're not talking politics and national strategy.
Those who can, have half an eye or more on the migration route–most of all in Guyana. In Jamaica, each Tuesday's Gleaner carries no less than three "how fast can I get out of here?" columns, one each on migration to the US, Canada and Britain.
The better question would be: "how can we all get the region out of this morass?" Or let's say: "how do we keep the good stuff and do something about the rest?"
First the non-answers. Small-island special pleading won't cut it. Nor will obsessing over past wrongs.
Nor will small-island shortcuttery–selling passports, badly-regulated offshore finance, selling pro-whaling votes to the Japanese, that sort of thing. China and Taiwan, meanwhile, have quietly given notice that they're no longer running a auction sale on diplomatic recognition.
And the answers? Fifty years ago, it was clear: independence. Forty years ago, intellectuals argued for democratic socialism. Thirty years, and it was on to the Washington consensus; free market liberalism.
All of those brought the Caribbean forward; up to a point. But now, we clearly need some fresh thinking, and clearly we don't have enough of it.
Social media, telecoms, transport hubs, renewable energy, blue and green economies–all of these will be in the mix. The trick will be for governments and established players to remove barriers–but not to get over-involved. The same goes for new takes on tourism and social policy.
Spoiler alert: shameless plug. Next week's Forum on the Future of the Caribbean aims to break out of the academico-politicoid talk trap.
"Disruptive thinking" is the buzz-phrase. There are some high-level speakers, from T&T, the Caribbean and further off. With luck, they can cut out the due deferences and protocols, and say what they really think.