Not even the most sympathetic of States-watchers would, I think, describe last week’s Budget debate as a display of Guernsey’s government at its best. Having laboriously decided, belatedly, to try to save some of your money, members (those who could be bothered to turn up) then immediately voted to splurge much, much more of it.
This addiction to other people’s cash is deeply troubling and those of us who warned against introducing GST without proper curbs on committee spending ambitions derive no pleasure from – inevitably – being proved right.
And the unspoken problem here is that despite this torrent of money – approaching three-quarters of a billion pounds – being removed from islanders and businesses, your life will not improve.
Instead, the reverse. Government will see the prices it controls, like water, electricity, sewage, elements of property tax and criminally high air fares continue to climb. The employment burden of public sector employees will increase above inflation and the island’s already high cost of living will get worse.
And nobody cares. The Budget was all about committees carving out their territories and not about you, as an ordinary islander, at all.
Take a pace backwards, and to address my opening headline, what do you want from the States? That’s easy. At a fundamental level, it’s stuff you can’t sort for yourself. Call that security, justice and the rule of law, and basic public infrastructure.
Well, we’ve had island electricity since February 1900, the States became responsible for the water supply on Christmas Day 1920, and the first island-wide police force initially began duties on 14 March 1915. Easy peasy. Job done.
Being subject to the rule of law goes back even further, to the 13th century, when the Royal Court took form pretty much as we’d know it today. So that’s sorted too.
Just about the time the island was embracing the role of government with water, sanitation and so on, its direct tax take in 1910 was £5,914, according to a question in Parliament and recorded by Hansard. Call that £628,503 in today’s money.
This apparently represented about a seventh of the then government’s total expenditure, so call that £4.3m. at today’s rates, while the 2027 budget is running out at an eye-watering £716m.
Now, 1910 is clearly a foreign country compared to today. Few of us, apart from, perhaps, former deputy David de Lisle, who always gave the impression he’d be more comfortable there, and current member Ross Le Brun, because there was absolutely no pavement surfing then, would wish to return to those days.
But it does prompt the question, what are we getting for this extra money?
Looking at some recent coverage, not very much. With no proper census having been carried out for 20 years, it looks like we’ve managed to overlook an additional 1,000 people living here.
Outstanding tax assessments peaked at more than 100,000 in the summer, Home Affairs is sitting on more than 4,000 employment or immigration permit applications and we remain about 2,000 new homes short of government’s own target of 3,130.
That said, it’s not clear whether that target is based on an accurate population figure and so could be an underestimate. Whatever, as a result household incomes are plummeting in real terms as the cost-of-living crisis – fuelled by outrageous accommodation costs – really bites.
We’ve been here before, of course. Back in the day the boom caused by quarrying and tomato-growing created mass immigration, housing shortages and, because this was the 1930s, very poor living conditions, as unscrupulous landlords sub-divided town properties and created slums. Which is why the Public Assistance Authority was formed and government bought land and built houses directly to deal with the problems.
Hmm… there might be a lesson there somewhere.
Anyway, enough of the history. The point I’m trying to make here is that while the cost of government – which you directly bear – has ballooned, you’re not clear what you’re getting for that – medical waiting lists getting worse and complete opacity on school standards, etc – or even what the States is doing in your name.
Bill Bell, back in the day when States members commanded respect, had a simple approach to taking over the presidency of a new (to him) committee. Give me, he’d ask of his chief civil servant, a single page each on: 1. The minimum we have to do by law or statute, 2. what we’re actually doing, and 3. what we’re not doing but should be.
What you’re missing, as taxpayers, is that first sheet of paper. What’s the basic that each department should be doing? And, from that, we can see the level of mission creep that has occurred over the intervening 100-odd years as Guernsey – without the express consent of its citizens – morphed into a mini England.
But States members don’t have that crucial first page either. And without it, when they say no stone has been left unturned in the search for savings and economies, you know that, too, is complete and utter Horlicks.
If you think I’m exaggerating, search for States of Guernsey on Linkedin. There are pages and pages of earnest, fresh-faced individuals paid for by you in jobs that are frequently incomprehensible.
I won’t give examples because I’ve been ticked off previously by Lindsay de Sausmarez for that, as it leads to individuals being identified and abused on social media, so she makes a reasonable point.
Again, however, as a States member, I’d be asking what happens if we stop doing that, or cease employing people to pursue some of the more esoteric things with which they’re tasked.
This is why Ian McPherson, the affable lead author of the Tribal Helm fundamental spending review of the States back in 2009, had no qualms about identifying £31m.-worth of savings – without damaging core services. The waste and inefficiencies his work identified were legion.
Alas, he and his team grossly underestimated the push-back they’d receive from vested interests within the States or the spend culture that was embedded there. This was before Agilisys and, in a similar but not identical way, what the Leale’s Yard private sector consortium ran into. There’s history here.
It’s worth noting too that the Tribal savings target would be about £52m. today – and that’s excluding all the extra padding and recruitment that has been piled on since 2009. A bit of a far cry from the £15.7m. the States didn’t save last week.
All a bit far-fetched for you? Well, please bear in mind that the Budget debate also revealed that at £98.2m. we’ll be spending more on bureaucracy than educating island children.
The gap may ‘only’ be half a mil or so but it’s significant. This Assembly puts itself first and citizens second.
You see, my opening ‘government is easy’ analysis omitted one fundamental.
Families also look to government to ensure their standard of living improves. Or, at the very least, doesn’t deteriorate.
The States has failed, even according to its own statistics, to achieve that basic requirement.
But, using money islanders don’t have, has instead voted itself extra cash to maintain its own lifestyle.
Worse, members can’t even see they have their priorities the wrong way round.
