By Richard Digard
HOW much should States Members be paid? It’s one of the most contentious of political questions and any reply will probably depend on two things – your understanding of what they do and what your own salary is. That, at least, was one of the findings of Dr Hannah White in her independent review of Jersey Members’ remuneration process, that most people tend to ‘start from where they are’.
It’s topical now that the whole issue of pay for politicians is out for public consultation and their current rate, £50,000, is more than median earnings in the Island, which stood at £41,600 in June, excluding an extra five grand pension contribution from taxpayers and £3,650 towards expenses.
Jersey Deputies already get more than their Guernsey counterparts, who are on £45,016, although heads of the main departments get more – £60,815 in the case of what’s known as the Principal Committees and £79,151 for the chief minister.
Both islands have the same basic driver for giving money to politicians, that it enables a wide range of candidates to seek election (Jersey) and remuneration should permit widespread participation by individuals of diverse age and experience (Guernsey).
The biggest difference, however, is that the independent academics reviewing Jersey’s approach very much see it as a job, while Guernsey doesn’t. As the guiding principles adopted in the other island put it, remuneration should not lead to participation for financial reasons alone and any payment should reflect an element of service to the community.
In other words, seeking office is in part vocational and another one of the guidelines says that pay should reflect an individual’s commitment of time as an important but not determinant factor.
Those with long memories will recall a time when States Members received no money at all, and older Guernsey people will tell you in detail how much better things were then – higher quality States Members, better decisions, no populism and, hurrah, no career politicians.
Back then, of course, the States was far from representative of the community at large. Mainly older men from a successful commercial background, Members ran the island like a business, ensured it could pay its way and ‘welfare’ equated to ensuring there was paid employment available.
Well, times have changed and things have moved on – but perhaps not far enough.
Opening up standing for election to those without independent means was clearly the right thing to do and has been very successful, to the point where some successful candidates get paid far more than they could command in the wider, commercial world. And that, I think, is where the current payment systems in both islands fall down.
While being a States Member isn’t a job in the fullest sense – there’s no formalised role description, fixed hours, specified tasks and outputs, or performance review – done properly it is onerous, comes with some significant responsibilities and can make islanders’ lives materially better or worse.
As reviews in both islands make clear, the tasks are material: Preparing for and participating in meetings of the States as a parliamentarian; undertaking committee work and overseeing policy aspects of operational delivery; and dealing with casework raised by members of the public.
Unlike ‘proper’ jobs, however, how these functions are discharged (if at all) is largely discretionary and there’s little meaningful scrutiny of an individual’s performance in the role. One States Member in Guernsey, for example, regularly turned up for meetings with their papers unread and I’m sure they’re not alone.
So despite the clear and defined tasks in hand, neither island makes any effort – unlike a private sector employer – to try to match the best candidates for the task to be undertaken. Elsewhere, with more developed political party systems, hopefuls are screened and the least suitable weeded out. Here, the remuneration deal is a no strings, no qualifications offer for anyone to stand irrespective (to be extreme) of whether they can even read or write.
I’m sure you see the inherent contradiction here. The complexities and demands of public office have changed out of recognition in the past 30 years or so but the system is designed to encourage anyone to walk in off the street and have a go.
Yes, I accept we have representative democracy and the States should represent a broad church. You can’t stop people from standing because they don’t match your idea of the right candidate. But what has become increasingly apparent in Guernsey is that people are seeking election who have no idea of what they’re letting themselves in for and what skills would make them a good fit.
Jersey, for example, provides successful candidates with a three-week induction (an indication of the complexity of public office) but you’ve had individuals campaigning not knowing that they would have to complete that process or that they would be classed as self-employed after election.
Many Guernsey voters are unhappy about the switch from parish/district elections to a full island-wide system and one of the suggestions a review of that is considering is whether an induction process could, or should, begin before anyone is elected. In essence, an induction process that starts before a candidate can stand, is mandatory and evidence of completion is required as part of the eligibility process.
Completion of the programme – clearly there can be no pass or fail – also indicates to potential voters that each candidate is serious enough about seeking public office that they have invested their own time in ‘doing their homework’ and fully understand what’s required of them before entering the States.
Too burdensome and off-putting? Possibly, and thought would need to be given to how to make any such programme as accessible and user-friendly as possible, but you as a voter would at least know that each candidate had a basic understanding of Jersey’s parliamentary system, how it operates and their role in that; knowledge and understanding of public finances, the island’s economy, how it works and what influences it; and an understanding of their own three contributions as parliamentarian, committee member and constituency representative.
As an elector, I’d find that reassuring. And as a potential candidate, if I couldn’t be bothered to bone up on what being a States Member actually involved, would I be that much of a loss to public life?
I agree, this is a difficult area but a couple of things are driving it. The first is that one of the ‘Recommended Benchmarks for Democratic Legislatures’ promoted by the Commonwealth Parliamentary Association is the upskilling and professionalisation of elected representatives, something that neither jurisdiction has taken particularly seriously to date.
The other is more fundamental. Would you as an employer offer £50,000 a year to someone who, in an electoral sense, has wandered in off the street to do a job they didn’t have a clue about? I don’t think the taxpayer should either.
