Yes, you don’t understand their system, they make less money, but by and large, food, healthcare and housing are free.
Why don't you emigrate,
Brad?
It's not entirely accurate to suggest that food, healthcare, and housing are "free by and large" in Cuba, though the phrasing captures a partial truth about the state's heavy subsidization of these essentials.
Cuba's socialist system provides universal access to basic provisions at minimal or no direct cost to citizens, funded through taxes, state revenues, and international medical exports.
However, these services aren't truly free. They come with indirect costs like low wages (averaging around $30–$50 USD monthly for most workers), chronic shortages, and reliance on informal markets for adequacy. This creates a facade of abundance that masks underlying hardships, especially amid economic pressures from the U.S. embargo, inflation, and reduced foreign aid.
Healthcare is the closest to the claim: Cuba's national system offers completely free medical care to all residents, from routine checkups to surgeries and preventive services, with no private options allowed. This has driven impressive outcomes, like a life expectancy of 79 years (matching the U.S.) and an infant mortality rate of 4.2 per 1,000 births (lower than the U.S.), despite spending far less per capita ($813 vs. $10,921 in the U.S. as of recent data). Neighborhood family doctors and community clinics emphasize prevention, and even complex procedures like gender reassignment or cosmetic surgery are covered at no charge.
Drawbacks include equipment shortages, long waits, and the export of doctors abroad for revenue, which strains local availability.Housing aligns somewhat with the idea but falls short of "free." The constitution guarantees it as a right, so most Cubans inherit state-allocated apartments or homes with nominal rent (often 10% of income or less, sometimes as low as $1–$2 monthly) or no payment at all for long-term residents.
Homelessness is virtually nonexistent due to cultural norms of multigenerational living and government shelters. Yet, maintenance is poor, buildings crumble from underfunding, and buying or swapping properties involves bureaucratic hurdles and black-market fees. Expats face much higher costs, but for locals, it's subsidized, not gratis.
Food is the weakest part of the claim: Basic staples aren't free but come via the libreta ration card system, where every citizen gets subsidized monthly allotments (e.g., 7 pounds of rice, 4 pounds of beans) for pennies, about $1.50–$2 USD total, covering 40–60% of caloric needs but lacking nutrition and variety.
Unsubsidized market prices make the full ration worth $20–$30 if bought openly, far exceeding average incomes.
Shortages are rampant, forcing many to spend 55–65% of earnings on informal markets or imports for decent meals; a basic basket for two people can cost $100–$200 monthly in reality. This system, a holdover from Soviet-era aid, now burdens the economy at over $1 billion annually in subsidies.In essence, while these pillars are "free" in the sense of universal, state-backed access without prohibitive fees, they're subsidized lifelines in a resource-scarce economy. The reality for most Cubans is scraping by, with remittances from abroad often filling gaps.
Brad's statement oversimplifies a resilient but strained model—admirable for equity, but not a utopia of gratis abundance.