By Ben Shenton
AS I am a panellist on “Show Us the Money: Question Time Budget Special”, I thought I’d concentrate on the Budget, starting this week with expenditure. Next week we’ll talk income, but for now let’s look at where the money goes – and why official figures are about as trustworthy as a magician’s disappearing act.
When ministerial government was introduced in 2005, critics warned we were making politicians “slightly impotent” – if such a thing is possible –and handing the keys of the sweetshop to the public sector. Twenty years later, the sweetshop shelves are bare, because the public sector has gorged itself silly.
Officially we get statistics telling us that the public sector has grown, but this has been relatively controlled. Ministers beam as they announce headcounts that suggest government is practically run by a skeleton crew, and they tell us that if the public sector was much smaller services would be even worse than they currently are, which is difficult to believe. But here’s the trick: thousands of taxpayer‑funded staff are airbrushed out of the “public sector” and rebranded as “private”.
It would be a good quiz, name government-controlled entities and ask – “private sector or public sector?”. The answers:
- Andium Homes – 100% States‑owned, running social housing under the direction of the Housing Minister and Treasury Minister. Counted as private.
- Visit Jersey – entirely taxpayer‑funded, responsible for tourism. Counted as private.
- Ports of Jersey – runs the Airport and harbours, wholly States‑owned, has government legal responsibilities. Counted as private.
- Jersey Development Company – speculates using taxpayer money, building on public land, reports to government and 100% government owned. Counted as public (only ten staff – pays bonuses yet public sector).
- JT Group – 100%-owned telecoms provider, speculating with overseas acquisitions. Counted as private.
- Jersey Heritage – no idea!
This isn’t transparency – it’s statistical camouflage. The official reports understate the true size of the public sector by up to a thousand staff. Ministers boast about “keeping the payroll under control” while the shadow public sector balloons out of sight. As I mentioned previously, they want to de-consolidate some of these entities so neither the staff nor the debts will appear on the Jersey balance sheet or, presumably, in official government-related statistics.
Our biggest expenditure is salaries. And unlike the private sector – where risk and reward are linked – public sector pay is risk‑free. Run a department atrociously? No problem, just hide the statistics and mislead. If you have high staff turnover, for example, just say you don’t keep records. The taxpayer will bail you out, and if you need extra you could always put less into their pension pot, or sell it as an asset with a worthless guarantee regarding investment returns.
Here are some examples of salaries in Jersey compared to the UK (Devon & Cornwall):
- Head teachers: £111–£118,000 in Jersey vs £74–£83,000 in the UK.
- Senior nurse: £75–£81,000 in Jersey vs £55–£58,000 in the UK.
- Police inspector: £76,000 in Jersey vs £63,000 in UK.
- Civil service CS14: £91–£101,000 in Jersey vs £71–£79,000 in UK.
- Firefighter: £65,000 in Jersey vs £38,000 in UK.
Add to this a 16% tax‑free pension contribution and you begin to see why Jersey is running persistent budget deficits despite strong revenue streams. Many jobs have additional perks such as standby payments and extra payments for “managerial duties”.
Is the head of Jersey Finance really worth over £25,000 a month, or £300,000+ per annum? Is he worth double the salary of the head of Jersey Business, for example, and why? The JFSC head received £370,000 last year – this is official data, not a leak. Jersey Development Company’s chief executive pocketed £298,025, while speculating with our money, not his. If it goes spectacularly wrong at JDC the bail-out comes from the taxpayer, not from him. I wonder if the chief officer of the economy voted for his £265,000 package – just over £5,000 a week. I wonder if they all “work from home” on Fridays, which is another public sector travesty.
Jersey’s cost of living and property prices are not just the product of global forces – they’re turbo‑charged by our own public sector pay generosity. When head teachers, nurses, police, and civil servants are pocketing salaries far above UK levels, plus 16% tax‑free pension benefits, it inflates the market for housing and everyday goods. The result? Ordinary Islanders are priced out, while the taxpayer bankrolls a gilded caste whose pay packets push affordability beyond reach. And here’s the kicker: if the rest of us are forced to leave because we can’t afford to live here, who exactly will be left to pay for this bloated public sector? The answer, of course, is nobody – except perhaps the ghosts of those who once believed Jersey’s government statistics. We’re inflating salaries while deficits mount and storm clouds gather over the global economy.
Furthermore, this is not just about envy, it’s about priorities. Just one public sector redundancy could potentially free up £300,000 – enough to fund Havre des Pas Pool, and leave cash to give carers their pensions. If you got rid of the public sector employees responsible for the Havre des Pas tender debacle we would have enough money for a world-class swimming pool with great facilities, and significant money left over.
So let’s be clear: Jersey’s public sector is not lean, it’s bloated. The official statistics are not just inaccurate – they’re misleading to the point of irresponsibility. Ministers may enjoy boasting about their fairytale numbers, but when the economic tide turns, we’ll discover that the Island has been living in a fantasy.
Jersey’s government increasingly resembles a sprawling conglomerate with tentacles wrapped around housing, tourism, telecoms, ports, property development, water, electricity, the theatres, car parks, and much more – employing roughly one in five Islanders if you include all connected entities. That might look impressive on a glossy brochure, but it’s a dangerous concentration of risk. If the finance sector falters or we hit economic rough seas, the Island won’t just face a downturn – it will face the terrifying prospect of its largest employer being the state itself, with the taxpayers that are still here left to bail out the very machine that already feeds on them.
In short, when government becomes both referee and player in every corner of the economy, the whole Island is one bad match away from discovering that the “safety net” is really a trap. To plan properly for the future, you don’t need spin – you need facts and accurate data. Right now, Jersey’s Budget is built on fiction and spin.
Ben Shenton is a senior investment director. He is a former politician, Senator, who held positions such as minister, chair of Public Accounts Committee, and chair of Scrutiny. He also assists a number of local charities on an honorary basis.
