Two ants, freshly marooned in a puddle rapidly filling with rain-water will cooperate to manoeuvre a leaf or twig to effect an escape – though the first out never glances back.

Well, they might wish to appear on the same platform, share facilities in London and Brussels, but there’s a long way to go before our political leaders can start rolling out the red carpet on a new era of trust and fraternity.

Nonetheless, the fact that our Treasury Minister, and their Chief Minister have ventured on a joint mission to the UK political conference circuit in order to raise Channel Island awareness, build bridges and counter misunderstandings, is a trip in the right direction.

With sensitive issues such as funding reciprocal Health agreements or university tuition fees, euphemizing ‘tax haven’ rhetoric, and countering the relentless assault against the local fulfilment industry, they’ll have ample opportunity to win friends and influence those pulling the levers at Westminster. However, without the luxury of the JEP’s observant ‘Fly’ on the Conference Centre’s wall, we’ll never know if our brace neo-Norman Conquerors opened their hymn books at the same page.

Of course it makes sense to show solidarity with your neighbours in times of adversity, particularly when your own shared identity is less than crystal clear. Britain’s off-shore southern islands have too- often found themselves dismissed as non-UK, non-EU irritants, banished from national weather maps with only the formal links to the Crown and reassuring visits from particular minor royals to keep us in the fold.

In theory, at least, we have an opportunity to share both pain and resources while respecting a sensitive balance to prevent either the ‘crapeau’ or the ‘donkey’ taking advantage.

The ground has indeed been gently raked for planting of late, with the appointment of a shared director of aviation, competition regulation and data protection – though that may be more an economic expedient than a philosophical unification. Yet, Jersey’s new MoH , has revealed that systems are already in place to share resources between the islands on such things as cancer treatment and that senior Health officers back each other up on rotas and representation. But these are the ‘soft targets’: in the sacred houses of money making, suspicion and avarice have many ring-fenced mansions.

Historically it’s not an easy relationship. You can forge economic global partnerships, but the last 25 miles can present the most intractable obstacles. It’s not too difficult to understand why.

As belts tighten, there is less to play for and the game gets more confrontational. There is a long tradition of gentle ribaldry between the Channel Tweedle brothers because attitudes on either side of the water were roughly interchangeable – though I guess Dee would be reserved for the home side, while your neighbour would always be Dum.

Idealists will champion a ‘healthy’ rivalry between siblings that boosts family strength – a philosophy espoused by Formula1 racing bosses – until team-mates touch tyres at 200 miles per hour!

But it doesn’t take much for small niggles to grow into big resentments. Size and envy can certainly not be ruled out when you can actually eye each other up on a clear day, even pick up each other’s boasts or embarrassments from a shared Radio, TV and newspaper network.

So it might not be too surprising to discover little appetite in one Bailiwick for association with another if one suspects another of exploitation. Well, of course we all know that such negative attitudes are vehemently discouraged from top down. Yet in the cut-throat world of competition, collaboration can indeed seem heretical. It’s difficult to strip out all the prejudices because they remain the last line of defence to retain competitive advantage.

So let’s look at the inter Island balance sheet. First, what have we in common? A unique community environment; scenery to die for; low crime; a well-established agriculture sector; high- cost living; over-dependence on well-being of the finance industry; a highly intelligent – according to exam results – young population with unattractive local employment prospects; Waitrose; economic slowdown; antediluvian government structures crying out for reform; and mounting life-style related health problems.

The list is as long as the string unwinds, but demonstrates a shared base. So what’s special in Jersey? Well, in no particular order: all the above, plus, freedom of information – of a sort; a rose-tinted Bergerac legacy; a grown-up airport; a state-of-the-art Energy from Waste plant; enough ‘renowned’ architect designed projects to fill the Tate Modern and JEP comment columns; GST and Zero-10.

As for Guernsey: lots of visiting cruise liners; an ability to spot some pretty clever niche financial wheezes like QROPS (Qualifying Recognised Overseas Pension Schemes) – effectively, British ex-pat investment, which has netted £1.3 billion to Guernsey’s Treasury over five years – perversely, a similar sum to that lost recently by the UBS ‘rogue trader’; a fledgling ‘green’ tidal energy industry, and a notoriously eco-nasty off-shore sewage discharge system.

The question comes down to whether it profits more to hang alone or hang together; who’d have the most to lose, or the most to gain? We’re simply talking relationship here – by no means marital intent. Let’s not go too fast, it’s not in the local chemistry.

But, there has to be advantage in pooling efforts, playing to individual strengths and saving duplicated time, effort and expense – not recognised as a guiding characteristic within either jurisdiction, in exchange for a modest helping of humble pie and strategic enterprise.

I’d happily wager that there’d be few inhabitants rushing to live in the ‘Peoples’ Republic of ‘Jern-sey’ – but when you think about it, life on a Green Isle or a Grass Isle can’t be too dissimilar, can it?