Apparently I’ve been overdoing it recently. I’ve had an ear bashing from my wife for constantly moaning and being negative in these columns. Why can’t I say something nice for a change? she asked.

I tried to explain that readers are unlikely to want to read about how I think everything is wonderful. Also, if I started agreeing with those I have formerly criticised, I would feel like a hypocrite. But she wasn’t having any of it. I should be more positive in this column, she said.

This was, in fact, a pretty rare family discussion, as my wife is one of those much-maligned public servants. She is normally far too busy to sit down and berate me.

Anyhow, I suppose I have to admit that I have fallen into the trap of many journalists by believing that the only good news is bad news. In my defence, I would have to say that this is no more of a sin than politicians who think that the only good news is actually good news. We’ve had quite a few examples recently of senior politicians imploring critics to have faith and confidence in the Island, rather than talking it down all of the time. I can understand where they are coming from but I wouldn’t go there (ugh!).

The unfortunate truth is that we don’t live in utopia. There are things wrong with Jersey, and I don’t think it’s wise to ignore them.
Blind faith in politicians and a belief that they have got it right all the time are dangerous in the extreme. Provide us with the evidence to show that Jersey is in fact on the right track and that we are doing everything well, and I would be the first to eat my critical words.

However, I won’t believe everything in the garden is rosy just because a politician tells me it is, just as I won’t believe ‘opposition’ politicians when they tell me everything is a mess.

Let me stress that there is nowhere in the world where I would rather live, so I won’t be taking any advice about the frequency of ‘the boat in the morning’.

It’s because I love Jersey so much that I get annoyed when people try to mess it up, and I’m certainly not referring only to politicians. In fact, many other organisations and sections of the community are more to blame for many of the ills that beset us. That’s why I’m nervous about this seemingly unstoppable appetite for ‘small’ government.

Handing over more responsibility to quangos, private-sector bodies and even well-meaning charities isn’t going to work, to my mind. Sure, we’ll save a few quid, and there is a good case for some restructuring in some areas, and of course if the private sector can do something better than the public sector, then it’s a no-brainer (ugh! again).

What worries me is that this trend is purely driven by dogma and the frightening growth of the ‘tea party’ clones. Give me a good business case for changes and I will accept them; I won’t accept them just because they are politically expedient.

Which, I suppose, brings me to what I believe is most wrong with Jersey, although I will try to do it in a positive way to avoid my wife’s wrath.

Well, I think that the Island’s political system is a disaster (I hope that’s positive enough). The composition of the States and the way they are elected are undoubtedly a product of our history and the way things have developed over the years, because no one in their right mind would sit down and design the current set-up. The best bet would be to scrap it and start again, but I’m a realist so all I suppose we can do is make the best of what we have and do a little tinkering here and there.

THE first thing that needs to be done if it is even remotely possible is to change the composition of the States and to do away with this crazy anomaly of Senators and Deputies having different constituencies and different periods of office. This means that they are viewed differently by politicians and much of the electorate when in fact they have exactly the same voting power.

This will come to a head, of course, when the States come to anoint the new Chief Minister. I use the term ‘anoint’ advisedly, as it’s certainly not much of an election. It’s more a debating competition.

So can a Deputy be Chief Minister? One candidate for the post thinks not. It’s got to be a Senator, he says. Why, for goodness sake? We have Deputies who have all the powers of a minister and actually run important, complex departments, unlike the Chief Minister, whose department may be an important part of government, but is hardly a vital public service.

I won’t even mention the farce of a Constable who hasn’t actually been elected by anyone, but who takes up his position in the States just because non-one else can be bothered to challenge the parish leaders.

The fact that a States Member elected by a tiny parish has exactly the same vote as someone who tops the Senatorial poll is a quaint anachronism that is frankly crazy.

But I must be positive. I suppose the encouraging feature of the political system is that despite all its flaws, things get done – eventually. The emphasis on personality and character, as opposed to policy,  is both a good and a bad aspect of Island elections.
Obviously it would be better for the electorate to have choices between the policies of candidates who stand at least some chance (if only very slim because of the absence of party politics) of bringing them into effect.

On the other hand, the reliance on the character and experience of the candidate does result in some very good candidates being elected, as well as some really duff ones.

So my positive hope is that a few new good States Members will be able to overcome at least some of the weaknesses of a flawed political organisation, and get things done.

Who knows – one day they might be able to get around to fixing the system.

Peter Body is editor of Business Brief magazine