Once a conventional wisdom builds up in any area of public life it takes a brave politician to challenge it. Almost certainly they will be shot down in flames. Not on the basis of well-reasoned logic, but rather because ‘everybody knows that isn’t right’, or even worse ‘that’s not what we’ve always done’. The policy pioneer will likely suffer that response both from their colleagues and the wider public.
Of course that’s not to say that new ideas are always better than the conventional wisdom. Very often they are not. But at the very least the two approaches should be judged on the basis of objective analysis and not on blind conservatism.
Some examples.
I remember that in the 1980s we used to have annual debates in the States where every member lauded to the rafters the work of the team fighting to maintain Guernsey’s traditional elm treescape. This valiant battle was taking place in the face of the onslaught of Dutch elm disease. It was deemed to be crucial because elms made up such a high percentage of mature trees in Guernsey.
We did indeed succeed in retaining many of our elms for far longer than other communities. We did so by dint of selective felling of diseased specimens, but at an ever-increasing cost in terms of both cash and lost trees.
One year when the horticulture president did his usual speech congratulating his team (they did indeed do a good job) and requesting yet another budget increase for the programme, Deputy Jean Pritchard decided to put her head above the parapet and challenge received
wisdom.
Having spoken to several expert dendrologists she suggested that the battle was lost, that we should accept that, and instead divert the money into replacing our elms with other native trees instead.
You could hear a pin drop. That wasn’t what was expected on these self-congratulatory occasions. It was as if a member of parliament in the Islamic Republic of Iran had got to their feet and suggested that Mohammed was a false prophet. She lost the day but within a couple of years was proved absolutely right.
More modern examples perhaps include the vision for secondary education put forward by the so called ‘gang of four’, deputies Tooley, Fallaize, Graham and Dorey. That was a bit different because initially it was well received and approved as States policy. What wasn’t to like about it? 11-18 schools (like the private sector), wider curriculum choices, fewer non-specialist teachers, better pastoral support, more enrichment activities, and all at a lower cost to the taxpayer.
But wait. The penny dropped. This was very different to the way state education had traditionally been delivered in Guernsey. Radically so. And, of course, Guernsey doesn’t ‘do change’ very well. So the narrative started to change to such killer arguments as the traffic arrangements and parking. The rest is history. The States paused the project, but then never reviewed it against the other options as promised. Why no review? I cynically think it could be out of fear that the radical option might have come out best. And that would have meant far too much change.
Other examples? Well just to prove I am not always on the side of change I will cite party politics. Many erudite voices have espoused the perceived benefits of political parties over the last decade. ‘Voters would have a real choice of government programmes to choose from at election time, more will get done, there would be greater accountability, its just more efficient.’ Even as a strong opponent of party politics I recognise that there’s some truth in those arguments. I just happen to feel there are stronger arguments on the other side. But I don’t pretend that the intellectual case against adopting party politics in a micro-jurisdiction are the reason why the concept has achieved very
little traction.
Rather it is more of an innate feeling amongst the public that ‘this is not the way we do things here, it might suit the UK, and other places, but it just isn’t Guernsey’. That is a feeling I definitely recognise in myself, it is widespread in the community, and it is genuine and valid. Never under-estimate the strength of political inertia.
But is such strong conservatism (definitely with a small c) a good or a bad thing. The slippery answer is ‘sometimes good and sometimes bad’. Heritage and tradition are important. Often they are the glue which help to define a community and to give it a personality. On the other hand radical change sometimes is needed, and on those occasions intellectual inertia can prevent necessary reforms.
I leave you with a question. ‘How many deputies does it take to change a light bulb?’ Answer: ‘Change? Why would we want to change it? The old light bulb has served us well for generations.’
