So that's it then.
All those manifesto pledges and hours of debate, and we get 3% GST, the return of road tax, and a lot of tinkering at the edges.
Did I miss the bit about savings?
The worrying thing is, the economists say it still won’t be enough.
Oh well, do you know anyone who wants to buy a pasteuriser?
It’s brand new, still in the box.
BNIB as they used to write on eBay.
Do you remember, the dairy ordered it to replace their old one, at a cost of £25,000? But when it arrived it was too big to fit in the pasteuriser room?
The dairy is States-owned, so they didn’t admit that, of course. They came out with some classic civil-service-speak instead.
One of their managers said, ‘Given its different dimensions, to install the new pasteuriser in the same location as the current one will require some structural alterations. We are therefore delaying that for now.’
You have to admit, that’s good.
I think a Guernseyman could translate that easily, however. And his version would be more succinct.
‘Hang, it’s too bloney big, eh?’
Perhaps it was a sneaky way to get the States to vote money for a new building to house it. That could work with the States.
But who ordered it, and whether they’ve been told off or had their wrist slapped, no-one knows. We don’t even know if they’ve been sent on an Introduction to the Tape Measure course.
It’s a bit like that IT project, the one that cost around £40m. It seems there’s no-one to blame there either.
The new States executive did a report on what happened, and at first glance I thought his report was quite good.
No, not what he said; the fact it was only 19 pages long.
After all, that’s quite a saving on paper compared to most States reports.
It’s full of States-type language as well, of course, but I think a Guernseyman would come up with pretty much the same translation as before.
Perhaps with the added words, ‘cock-up’ after ‘big’.
But again there’s no-one at fault. The report even said some senior civil servants are immune from normal discipline, so after losing all that money they still can’t be shown the door.
I heard someone say they’ll just wait and see who takes early retirement, with full pension.
Talking of civil servants, did you read there’s over 100 of them moved into the old sixth form centre at Les Varendes now?
That’s a lot of people to move offices in such a short time. You don’t normally hear of the civil service moving that fast, do you?
I suppose working from Les Varendes means they don’t have to join traffic queues to get into Sir Charles Frossard House or Wheadon House in the morning, there’s free parking outside, they’re surrounded by green fields, and they can get home early by avoiding the traffic coming out of town.
That wouldn’t have affected their decision to move so fast, would it?
And apparently the sixth form centre has been re-named; we’re supposed to call it Footes Lane House now.
Perhaps they think by using a different name no-one will realise a centre designed for sixth formers has been taken over by States employees, while sixth form students are still in La Mare de Carteret.
I don’t know how long that will last mind, because the Education are having a re-think about the whole process now, after they found the cost of moving to the Ozouets has gone through the roof.
Or it would have done if they’d built any roof there to go through.
They’ve even said they might consider moving the sixth form back to Les Varendes. I wonder if all those workers will move out as easily as they moved in?
Perhaps the States will be able to make a bit extra on eBay: as well as a pasteuriser there could be a nameplate for sale, one that says Footes Lane House.
Talking of renaming things, did you read the Border Force has changed its name back to Customs and Immigration? I’m not sure why, unless that new chief executive reminded them that’s their job.
Or he looked at the Leopardess and decided the word ‘force’ was stretching credulity too far.
I don’t know what difference it will make, mind. After all, the Income Tax department is called the States Revenue Service now, but nothing much seems to have changed there. I’ve heard it called a few other things as well.
If they’re giving committees new names, it seems to me they could look at that Scrutiny Committee.
After all, they’re supposed to hold other committees to account, to see what they’re doing and how much it’s costing and all that.
But by the time they get to question a committee and find things are not being done well, the projects have been started and money already spent, so it’s too late to change.
They did ask if they could check proposals before they’re started, but the P&R didn’t like that idea.
So it seems to me they might as well give the Scrutiny a more appropriate name: something like the After the Horse has Bolted Committee.
And giving things different names seems to be catching. I mean, we’re used to the States calling it GST instead of VAT, because they think it sounds better for Guernsey.
But a few months ago they started talking about GST-plus. They must have thought that sounded a bit more positive.
Now the latest is something they’re calling a ‘blended’ GST.
I know someone who says that’s a good name. After all, he says it’s like a blender. They just threw all the ideas for getting more money into a mixer, stirred it round lots of times without any idea of a recipe, and now they’re expecting us to swallow the results.
But it doesn’t matter what name they use, it’s still just a way of getting us to pay more tax.
Perhaps they never read what Shakespeare said about a rose.
It’s like the P&R, they’ve been telling us for years they’re tackling priorities to sort out the island’s problems.
Now they’ve announced they’re dealing with ‘super priorities’.
So what next? ‘Super-duper priorities’?
It reminds me of young children claiming things like, ‘my bike’s faster than your bike’.
And I read on the Press they’re going to use something called ‘priority-based budgeting’ to do their finances now.
I don’t know what that is, but if it means only spending what you can afford and not wasting money on unimportant things, well, most of us have had to do that for years.
The latest thing they’ve come up with is a Major Projects Portfolio. I think basically they want to make sure big projects have been planned properly before they agree to pay for them.
Am I the only one who finds it worrying if the States have only just thought of that idea?
I was thinking of that when I noticed these little sensors they’ve started putting in the middle of the roads. Apparently they’re to measure traffic volume and speeds and things.
But the States have already approved planning for hundreds of houses in places where the residents say the roads can’t cope, so to start measuring now is a bit late, isn’t it?
I don’t know how much information they’re collecting, but they already know how many cars there are in Guernsey, who’s registered and how much tax they get from motorists.
Now they’ll get details of where they go and how often, and at what speed.
But they haven’t had a proper population census for about 20 years. So they’ll end up knowing more about the traffic and vehicles in the island than they do about the people who actually live here.
And talking of planning, did you hear about that Octopus site, where the restaurant used to be?
There was an estate agent saying a developer could build anything on the site, not just a restaurant. And any new building could even be up to four and a half storeys high.
I know Guernsey has a tradition of hotels catching fire and then getting turned into houses or old people’s homes, but surely they wouldn’t allow anything that high by the bathing pools?
He said it’s because it’s classed as being in a ‘main centre’. But what’s a main centre, and who decides what’s in it?
It sounds to me like the sort of thing a UK consultant would come up with.
I can picture a town planning expert in an office in England pulling out a map of Guernsey, drawing a big circle round St Peter Port and saying that must be a main centre, without realising there’s bits of coast and picturesque views that you don’t find in the average UK town.
And we all know with some buildings, once construction starts the original plans seem to go out of the double-glazed, solar-coated, panoramic, picture window, and the result can be pretty horrendous.
Have you driven down the west coast recently?
I know estate agents are well known for using fancy words, and can describe some monstrosities as architectural masterpieces, but four and a half storeys is too much for that site.
Whatever language they use to justify it, I think most Guernseymen would come up with the same translation as for the pasteuriser.
‘It’s too bloney big, eh?’
