Anything with the word ‘reform’ in the title is going to be a bit of a nightmare, anything with more than three amendments is going to take The Rest Of Your Life, and anything relating in any way to a Planning issue will make you wonder why people vote at all.

The proposal for a flat-rate pay rise of £400 or £1,250 across the States workforce was never going to produce a classic debate – but it did almost produce a classic speech, more on which later.

Deputy Phil Rondel’s proposition, and Deputy Geoff Southern’s amendment, struck a neat dividing line in the House – and reminded me a little of one of the Australian measures to fight the recession.

The UK has brought out banks, Jersey will invest in training and capital projects – but the Aussies, with a gift for going to the heart of a problem, cut everybody a $700 cheque.

Anyways, the whole debate was a mass of contradictions – ministers had to acknowledge the u-turn they have pulled on public sector pay (announcing a pay freeze just months after the States approved their £3.5m allocation for a pay claim), and those who supported the proposal had to acknowledge a logical gap in backing a pay rise for public sector workers while some in the private sector are taking a cut.

There were no winners in the debate… well, apart from one.

Last time out I had a pop at Deputy Southern for the quality of his speeches, and last week he delivered the speech of the day.

With his blood clearly boiling at States colleagues professing undying loyalty to the low-paid, but refusing to countenance a pay rise for States workers, the Deputy got to his feet.

‘Members talk about the interests of the low-paid but when it comes to voting, we vote against the low-paid time and time again,’ he said. ‘Let’s be honest for once and stand up and say we don’t care. Either vote for it or don’t, but do not give us more of this mendacity, this pretence to feel sympathy but voting the other way.’

He’s right. There is nothing wrong with voting for the pay rise, and nothing wrong with voting for the pay freeze. There is something wrong in saying one thing and doing the other.

What price culture? According to the Chief Minister, it’s £2.2m per year – and not a penny more.

Chief Minister Terry Le Sueur’s attitude during Question Time to the funding problems at Jersey Heritage – which can neatly be encapsulated as ‘not my problem’ – will do little to dispel a public image of a States Chamber which knows the cost of everything, but the value of nothing.

When quizzed about the funding for JHT, which is in dire straits after already receiving a 10% advance on their £2m budget, the Chief Minister’s response was less than supportive.

Credit to St Helier Constable Simon Crowcroft and Deputies Carolyn Labey and Daniel Wimberley for their questions on the subject.

At the end of the week, Jersey Heritage Trustees have to decide whether they’re going to close the Jersey Museum and Hamptonne and lay-off around 20 people because of financial trouble.

The staff facing the prospect of losing their jobs, the volunteer trustees, and an Island which prizes its individuality and culture deserve more in the way of leadership than this.

And all this just weeks after the States approved a commitment to ‘Protect and enhance our unique culture and identity’ as one of the 16 key aims of the Strategic Plan.

I only interviewed the now-former Bailiff Sir Philip Bailhache a couple of times, so I couldn’t say that I knew him or knew what he was all about.

But two moments stand out for me: the first being when I went to talk to him about plans for a National Gallery.

I walked in to his office convinced the whole thing was a complete waste of time, and walked out 20 minutes later utterly converted that a gallery could open up art and culture to plebs like me who couldn’t care a toss about them.

It’s a tribute to what he said in his final address to the States – that those who can use the power of reason to persuade have everything to gain in the States Chamber.

The second was a bit different.

During a debate about something or other, I can’t remember exactly what, former St Mary Deputy Geoffrey Grime said something along the lines of ‘I’m not a Jerseyman, but I’ve lived here for some years and I care deeply about this Island…’ only to be cut off by Sir Philip saying ‘that makes you a Jerseyman, Deputy’ to the usual footstamping.

Hello, I thought, here’s a bloke who obviously hasn’t paid much attention to the Housing Law, or regulations about who can do which job.

On the subject of culture and heritage and what makes a Jerseyman – and away from politics for a second – the thing that made me smile most all week was a remark by an Irish bartender of my long-standing acquaintance.

‘Irish’ is perhaps an understatement – he’s got one of the strongest Irish brogues I’ve ever heard.

And that’s why it was a pleasure, and a delight, to hear him describe his recent haircut as ‘a branchage’ seamlessly in conversation, and to not even think it unusual until a few minutes later. Maybe that’s what makes a Jerseyman…

Briefly – I’d love to rant and rave about the fact that the States were inquorate four times in a sitting, I really would.

But I can’t. Because I have seen something infinitely worse. And I can almost guarantee you that if you tried to sit through the standard debate at the end of a sitting on what they’re going to debate at the next sitting – you’d never vote again.

I’d say that you should try it, but I’m not that mean.