Dear Santa,
I fully appreciate that you are very busy preparing for Christmas and have billions of letters to read from children all over the world, but nonetheless, I thought I’d give it a shot.

Admittedly, I am far too old to be writing to you to drop massive hints about what I’d like to wake up to find at the bottom of the bed on Christmas morning, but please bear with me, as you could be my last hope. If you can’t help, the place I call home is going to be up the creek without a paddle.

I live in a little Island off the coast of France which has quite a lot going for it, but it can be an infuriating place. The main problem lies with our government – or as I affectionately call it, Charlie Chuckle’s Laughter Factory. There are 53 of them, supposedly elected by the popular vote, although some of those known as Constables have never fought an election, but hey ho, that’s parochial politics for you.

The States Assembly is supposedly led by an equally ineffectual bunch of ministers who form a council – or the Chuckle Brothers, as I refer to them. As a term of government in Jersey lasts three years, apart from the Senators, who get a double whammy, the Deputies and Constables seek re-election every three years. And, therein lies a problem.
The first six months are spent settling in or back, while the last six months are dedicated to catching up on lost time or getting themselves re-elected. That leaves two years to get things done.

Take away long holidays and the many, many hours wasted on going over old ground (and not forgetting the startling fact that the only dynamic decision taken this year was on the casting vote of a ring-binder file) and you can appreciate Jersey’s predicament.

Decisive and dynamic government it is not – yet that is what we are crying out for. This political malaise is compounded by the inability to undertake brave and forward-thinking government reform. The Laughter Factory has been contemplating its reform navel for more years than I care to remember, with the only profound outcome being the formation of ministerial government – which in practice has concentrated far
too many powers in the hands of individuals.

This isn’t a mess of recent making; we have been heading up the aforementioned creek for decades while also falling behind far bigger and more enlightened western demo-cracies.

As an equal opportunities employer, dear Santa, you will doubtless be horrified to discover that Jersey lacks not only sexual discrimination legislation, but also a racial discrimination law.

As this year draws to a close there is something rotten in the States of Jersey. If our beloved politicians haven’t got the wherewithal to sort themselves out, deliver the goods and start making decisions and sticking by them, can you please add a few essential remedies to the sleigh heading our way?

Top of the Christmas goodies list for Jersey is government reform led by a single general election day for all representatives, with the Constables consigned to history and four-year terms of office for all. Forget super constituencies and all the other permutations that have been debated and rejected over and over again with no positive outcome.

A super-tax on the banks and the over-paid financial gamblers who are carrying on regardless of having taken the world to the brink of financial meltdown would also be nice. Likewise, a little redistribution of wealth as you scurry from chimney tops around the Island would not go amiss in a community where more than 15,000 families will require charity support this Christmas.

Some of those who will be drawn into the tax net in 2010 earn less in a year than many who work in the finance industry spend on a huge gas-guzzling people carrier the size of a small conservatory. Does that sound right to you, Santa?

As you are flying over Jersey, would it be possible to install a few strategically placed speed cameras? Seeing that the police – paid and honorary – are as pathetic at enforcing speed limits as our politicians are at self-reform, the cameras are just what we need to clip the throttles of boy (and girl) racers and macho middle-aged men who view speed limits as an affront to their manhood. The revenue from speeding fines will be a nice little bonus to go towards paying for the boys and girls in blue, who don’t come cheap on this little rock – especially when they are armed to the teeth.

While I’m on the subject of the cost of enforcing the law in Jersey, how about a nice little guesthouse for the local constabulary? Instead of running up expensive hotel accommodation bills for the various UK officers brought in to boost their ranks, a force-owned establishment would be a real saving.

When not filled with policemen and women on duty away from home, it could be advertised as the perfect retreat for holidaying law enforcement officers and so earn some extra cash to keep our streets free from crime.

At this time of year our thoughts go out to those who cannot be with loved ones in the bosom of the family. So Santa, please send the merriest of Christmas greetings to Islanders in the service of their country, especially those in Afghanistan.

However, there is one ‘exile’ who has no one to blame but himself. To make Senator Stuart Syvret understand that Jersey is not a corrupt Stalinist dictatorship, could you please drop down the chimney of his London refuge a one-way ticket to a country where there really is no freedom of speech, association and thought, no fair and open judicial process or human rights, such as North Korea, Syria, the Yemen or Tibet among many other oppressive states.

Finally, Santa, if there is any room left on the Jersey-bound sleigh, a country cottage in a sleepy west country village wouldn’t go amiss for yours truly.

Merry Christmas!