The hireman does not emerge from a vacuum. He is typically a young man for whom the gun economy offers something that the formal economy cannot: income, status, and recognition. He is the product of the collapse of meaningful educational and employment pathways, the erosion of traditional authority structures, and the emergence of gun-enabled forms of masculinity that compete with older pathways. The result has been more indiscriminate and deadly warfare, claiming more civilian lives – a deeper societal breakdown in which traditional authority is weakening and external factors are worsening internal disputes.
Research has found that gun ownership has been absorbed into systems of meaning about manhood, status, and belonging. This shift occurred in Enga as early as 2005: where once Big Men – earning authority through oratory, generosity, and community leadership – governed the decision to fight, now “the few young men who possess guns make the decision whether to go and fight or not”. The authority of elders has been displaced by the authority of the armed young man – a figure who has found one of the few available routes to power in a setting where more legitimate routes have largely closed.
The hireman economy endures because it is self-reinforcing. Insecurity drives demand for weapons; weapons drive demand for ammunition and mercenaries; profits and power attract more participants. State fragility and arms proliferation operate as a feedback loop: communities arm themselves because the state cannot protect them, and armed communities then further undermine the state’s capacity to govern. PNG’s police-to-population ratio has deteriorated significantly since independence and now sits far below UN-recommended benchmarks. Police stations have been abandoned, courts are non-functional, and district offices closed across much of the Upper Highlands. Security forces that do arrive are frequently outgunned.
The wantok system – ordinarily a source of social solidarity and mutual obligation – reinforces the cycle in conflict settings: communities press relatives in paid employment to help finance weapons as a collective obligation, and those who refuse face ostracism and social exclusion.
The hireman is thus not merely a product of individual economic desperation. He is produced by a system of communal obligation, elite patronage, governance breakdown, and a labour market that the formal economy has failed to compete with.
The picture is not uniformly grim. Evidence from specific communities and local organisations – for example, Kup Women for Peace in Simbu province – demonstrates that the cycle can be interrupted where credible leadership, genuine economic alternatives, and community ownership of peace processes converge. The common logic is simple: offering young men something worth choosing over the gun. Providing these alternatives and drawing hiremen out of the market is urgent ahead of the next round of elections.
For the first time in years, the policy conditions appear more favourable. The Marape government has committed to action on arms proliferation; a gun buy-back scheme was announced in March 2026; and a National Action Plan on Reducing Armed Violence is in development. That the people who most need to solve this problem include some of those who have been funding it remains the central political challenge. The analytical starting point matters: the hireman is a symptom of a system, not its cause. Addressing the symptom without dismantling the patronage networks, closing the governance vacuum, and creating credible alternatives will not produce durable change.
The fight, as communities across the Highlands have long understood, has a father or owner, probably many. Finding them – and holding them accountable – is where any serious response must begin.