SMOKE-filled back rooms, deals hatched in secret, shadowy committees – these things get a bad rap.

Maybe that’s a shame. Maybe, in a strange revision of the old thing about the sound-of-a-tree-falling-in-the-woods, politicians can only make sense if there’s nobody around to hear them.

Either way, there’s an abundance of irony in that the first parts of a deal that could make Jersey’s system of government more open, more effective and generally slightly less of an almighty nightmare was put together by a group that no one formally set up, that doesn’t have any real powers, that sits in private and for which there are no proper minutes.

In fact, for all we know, it doesn’t even have a name.

But that’s not important right now. What’s important – much more important than the unholy terror of another Senator/Constable/Deputy debate shortly to be unleashed upon the States, more on which later – is that what I guess we have to call the Breckon Committee appears to have come up with a way to improve how government works.

The short version is that it involves unwinding the ministerial government reforms and creating small committees of politicians under each minister that can debate policy and decisions, come up with ideas and create some kind of check and balance that might stop things going wrong.

The long version includes a few other bits and pieces, like starting again from scratch with Scrutiny under a different name (a pretty clear admission that the Scrutiny system has not been a shining success) and potentially cutting a ministerial department entirely.

There’s no point in revisiting old ground about what a good idea the committee is, how its membership spans all sides of the House and how this is the right way to solve a difficult problem.

But there is a point to recording that if, as I’ve been told, all of the Members involved in the committee are getting behind the proposals, then there’s a significant story here.

It’s a big ‘if’, but if Chief Minister Terry Le Sueur is prepared to throw his weight behind proposals that would widen the scope of influence over policy, break the Council of Ministers’ stranglehold on influence and information and deliver a more inclusive system of government instead of the confrontational and adversarial politics we currently have, then he’s a bigger man than some give him credit for being.

And if he can persuade his ministerial colleagues to go along with it too, then he’s a giant.

If there’s one subject more than any other that’s a magnet for idiocy, for bluster, for fantasy in the face of reason, it’s the composition of the States.

And yet, there seems to be nothing that can stop it. It is The Terminator of States debates – a vast slow-moving juggernaut impervious to modern firepower that smashes through everything in its path and then turns to intone ‘I’ll be back’ before going into hibernation until the inevitable sequel arises.

You’d have thought that after finally reaching a compromise setting up a single election day for 47 of the 53 States Members last year, the current crop of moviegoers would have had their fill.

You’d have thought that because it makes sense, because it’s reasonable and because there might be more important things going on, like, I don’t know, a staggering deficit in public finances maybe.

And you’d have been wrong.

The Terminator is back for its millionth incarnation, with this autumn’s blockbuster featuring a natty little plan to kick out four Senators (which is only a good idea if you let me pick the four, and then it becomes brilliant and Something That Must Be Done), set a four-year term for everyone and move elections to the spring.

The Privileges and Procedures Committee’s proposals combine the deal (spring elections and four fewer States seats) with the sweetener of a one-year increase in terms of office to get States Members onside.

Part of the problem is that there’s about as much sweetener in this deal as there is, you know, deal – which is to say that it’s a bit like bribing a policeman £60 to get off a £60 parking ticket. Only in the States of Jersey would that make sense to anyone.

The other part of the problem is that it’s ostensibly about better elections, but the reality is that the elections will be less frequent. And that’s just the proposal as it stands before the Idiot Magnet sucks in a few amendments from the hard-of-thinking.

These debates do not help anyone. They just don’t. If anyone tells you that they do, make them prove it.

They don’t put more money in anyone’s pocket, they don’t protect or create jobs, they don’t do anything for public services, they won’t help you buy a house and they won’t make the sun shine on the weekend.

But, because they’re about politicians, they are loved by politicians. And because the debates don’t require States Members to know anything, understand anything complicated or make any difficult choices, they keep coming back to them.