By the end of this month, we will know the results of the island-wide by-election. Eleven candidates are vying for just a single seat.
The level of voter turnout will be interesting to see and will be a good way to gauge the degree to which the general public have been enthused by local politics, just 10 months since the general election. We should be grateful to those candidates for putting themselves forwards. Democracy cannot operate without a decent talent pool of local people willing to put the time and effort into trying to get elected to the States.
But generally I think the island has a significant problem in not being able to attract a sufficient number of capable candidates, from whatever background, for the office of people’s deputy. Such candidates of calibre are required now more than ever to get stuck into the issues of the day at this critical time in our history.
Why don’t more good people put themselves forward? To my mind, it is fairly obvious, and there are several reasons why some of Guernsey’s brightest and best from any number of backgrounds are looking at the States chamber and choosing to walk the other way.
First, the nature of local politics itself. We need to talk about the glacial pace of political change in Guernsey. One of the most significant deterrents for high achievers or anybody potentially is the sheer inefficiency of the local political system.
Most people who go into politics wish to solve problems. However, the States of Deliberation and its committees can sometimes give the impression that they are designed to process problems, rather than solve them as such. The committee system is also a masterpiece of passing the buck. The newcomer enters with their vision and their principles, only to find that the labyrinth makes real progress frustratingly difficult. Even after years of patient development of policy, the Assembly can still pull the plug at the last minute. For anybody who values their time, and I don’t know many people who don’t, the realisation that you could spend literally years of your life ultimately going nowhere, around in circles, and making zero impact, is a sizeable deterrent.
For generations, a seat in the States was seen as a pinnacle of civic duty. An opportunity for the island’s most capable people to help steer the ship of state. But step into any coffee shop or the like in the island today, and the conversation among many – including from the island’s professional or creative vanguard – has shifted. The question is no longer ‘When will you run?’ but rather ‘Why on earth would you?’
Second, there is a fish bowl effect to being a deputy in Guernsey. In a community of about 60,000 people, there is no such thing as being ‘off duty’.
In a small community, there is no anonymity as a public figure. To seek office is to sign away your right to a quiet life. To be a deputy is to be perpetually on trial in the court of the check-out queue or on the beach. This fish bowl effect acts as a sort of filter, straining out the private and the humble, leaving us with only those who possess a skin tough enough to be largely indifferent to public opinion – or an ego large enough to enjoy the attention.
We must also be honest about the level of toxicity entering into our local discourse. Keyboard warriors and anonymous comments are turning public life into a blood sport. Why would a respected member of the community subject themselves – let alone their family – to a daily barrage of vitriol for a job that at the basic level pays the median wage? We are cannibalising our own civic spirit and then wondering why nobody ‘good’ wants to stand.
Third, there is also an opportunity cost to being in the States.
As we face increasingly complex economic, fiscal and social challenges, the reluctance of, in particular, professional people in the midst in their careers to go into Guernsey politics is becoming impossible to ignore. For those in the prime of their careers, the maths simply does not add up.
If you ask an islander who perhaps works in finance or professional services why they would not stand for the States, the answer is not usually a lack of concern for the island or its future prospects. It is more a survival instinct. We have created a political environment that effectively excludes anyone with a normal life from participating. For many professionals in their 30s, 40s or 50s, a deputy’s salary is not a living wage. It is a pay cut that comes with a side order of public flogging. We have designed a system where the only people who can painlessly afford to serve are those who have already made their money or those who have limited alternative career opportunities. This creates ‘a missing middle’ where our Assembly to a large extent lacks the voices of people currently paying mortgages, navigating childcare costs and running small businesses. This is because, quite frankly, they cannot afford the luxury of a four-year sabbatical in a political system that at times appears dysfunctional.
Guernsey is home to world-class experts in finance, digital technology, environmental matters, accountancy, etc. If these individuals – perhaps in the prime of their careers – are spending 60 hours a week preparing for committee or States meetings or otherwise navigating the friction of the States’ machinery, that is 60 hours that they are not spending on building a business, mentoring the next generation or, dare I say it, contributing to the island’s gross domestic product. When the cost of entry into politics includes the sacrifice of one’s professional peak and personal peace, the only people left in the room tend not to be as reflective of society as we may wish to see.
By making the machinery of government so cumbersome and the environment of public life increasingly hostile, we are ensuring that the very people we desperately need to lead the community in politics are being incentivised to stay home and keep clear. Why would anybody rational wish to be a politician in these circumstances?
Unless we reform the way the States operates, change members’ pay and restore basic civility to public discourse, a normal, talented person is not typically going to put themselves forward and stand for election. Public life should not mean sacrificing your sanity, or your solvency. But if we cannot change the current realities, we will continue to be governed by the retired, the rich and those who see a deputy’s pay as a step up. And we wonder why the States fails to make decisions and is out of touch.
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