By Carl Parslow
WE all resolve to exercise more, drink less, and finally cancel the gym membership we’ve been heroically funding since 2018. Jersey politicians, meanwhile, no doubt mark the occasion by resolving to consider exercising more, review drinking less, and consult experts on whether cancelling the gym membership would be premature.
Still, as the Island steps into 2026, an election year which focuses the mind wonderfully for re-election hopefuls, it may be time for something bolder: resolutions that sound suspiciously like decisions.
Resolution One: We will reintroduce accountability, and try not to flinch when it appears.
Accountability has had a quiet few years in Jersey. Failures are collective, responsibility is dispersed and outcomes are nobody’s fault. Projects drift, budgets swell and the only thing reliably delivered is the occasional consultant’s pension top-up.
In 2026, the Island could resolve to rediscover the unfashionable idea that a manifesto is not merely a once-every-four-years pamphlet to be discarded by the politician once in post. Politicians might be elected on clear promises with costings, govern by them, and remain around long enough to be judged on delivery rather than intention. Scrutiny, meanwhile, might be permitted to do more than clear its throat politely. It will be uncomfortable, but surely stagnation is worse.
Resolution Two: We will produce a proper plan to get Jersey out of the doldrums and resist the urge to immediately ignore it.
Jersey does not suffer from a shortage of strategies. It suffers from strategy fatigue. The Island has been hovering in a state of managed drift for so long that it has begun to confuse motion with progress.
In 2026, Jersey could resolve to produce a comprehensive, coherent plan for growth, not a greatest-hits album of worthy initiatives, but an actual roadmap out of economic and political stagnation. A plan that sets priorities with measurable key performance indicators, accepts trade-offs and survives the next ministerial reshuffle.
This will require honesty. It may also require admitting that “steady as she goes” eventually becomes “dead in the water”.
Resolution Three: We will grow the non-financial services economy because it is central to Jersey’s future prosperity.
Financial services remain Jersey’s economic engine, and jeopardising this sector would be an act of collective self-harm. The sector pays the bills, funds public services and allows the Island to indulge its fondness for Scandinavian-quality outcomes on a Channel Island budget.
But 2026 could be the year Jersey stops treating the rest of the economy as an optional extra. Hospitality, construction, digital and creative industries, logistics, professional services and small businesses should no longer be discussed (or more likely ignored) as charming sidelines.
This is not about replacing finance. It is about resilience. An economy with more than one leg is less likely to fall over.
Resolution Four: We will invest in our own people — and stop exporting the future.
If Jersey wants to escape stagnation, it must aim to educate its young people for a diverse range of careers right here at home. In 2026, the Island could resolve to put higher and further education at the heart of its growth strategy.
That means serious, visible investment in Highlands College and the wider education infrastructure. Not warm words, not pilot schemes, but proper funding, modern facilities and alignment with the skills a diversified economy actually needs.
Importing labour indefinitely is not a strategy; it is a holding pattern. Growing local talent is harder, slower and vastly more effective.
Resolution Five: We will remember that Jersey is not the UK and stop borrowing policies like ill-fitting coats.
Jersey is British, but it is not Britain. This distinction is often forgotten when legislation, regulation and political instincts arrive suspiciously pre-assembled.
In 2026, the Island could resolve to be unapologetically itself: a self-governing jurisdiction with its own laws, culture, economy and language. Not everything that works in Whitehall works in St Helier, and importing problems is not the same as importing solutions. Are we a proud small island nation, or just another quietly compliant UK county?
Autonomy is not a nuisance; it is the entire point of the exercise.
None of these resolutions present as radical. That is precisely the problem. They appear obvious, sensible and long overdue, which makes their continued absence all the more baffling.
And yet, 2026 could genuinely be a good year. Not because Jersey will suddenly reinvent itself, but because it might finally stop drifting like a yacht with a hole in the hull. Accountability, long-term planning, diversification, education and identity are not headline-grabbers, but they work and we don’t need consultants to tell us that.
As the year turns, one might raise a glass not to perfection, but to progress. Jersey has the tools, the money and the talent.
All that is required now is the gumption, through the ballot box, to nudge a few familiar faces aside in favour of fresh ideas that benefit all of us, before stagnation finally becomes a Jersey tradition.
Bouonne Année à tchi tchi et à tous.
(For the politicians who skipped the last French class of the year, that is “happy new year to one and all” in our language.)
Born and educated in the Island, Carl Parslow is an experienced Jersey advocate and notary public with over 25 years’ experience. He heads up Parslows LLP business legal services department, advising corporates and individuals on a range of issues with a particular emphasis on acting for Jersey owner-managed businesses. Outside work, he enjoys rugby and cycling with Lasardines.
