Reverse Engineering Politicians Retirement Bonuses: The Case of Simon Crowcroft

I'm still waiting for an exact breakdown by an FOI of the workings out of the retirement package paid to long serving States Members who just stood down, and has been in the States over 19 years. Here is as far as I can go by back analysis of the figures for Simon Crowcroft.

1. Put all the numbers on the table

Using the current States Member annual remuneration

$$S=\mathrm{\pounds }\mathrm{59,874.72}\Rightarrow m=\frac{S}{12}=\mathrm{\pounds }\mathrm{4,989.56}$$

so one “month of salary” is $m=\mathrm{\pounds }\mathrm{4,989.56}$.

From the Bailiwick Express/JEP lists:

Person	Status	Payment (£)	Multiple of $m$ (approx.)
Simon Crowcroft	Retired	36,694.06	7.35
Geoff Southern	Retired	30,311.58	6.07
Deidre Mezbourian	Retired	25,571.50	5.13
Kevin Lewis	Unsuccessful	25,571.50	5.13
Steve Luce	Unsuccessful	18,087.16	3.62
Sam Mézec	Unsuccessful	15,280.53	3.06
Rob Ward	Unsuccessful	9,979.12	2.00
Mike Jackson	Unsuccessful	9,979.12	2.00
Steve Ahier	Unsuccessful	9,979.12	2.00
David Warr	Unsuccessful	4,989.56	1.00
Raluca Kovacs	Unsuccessful	4,989.56	1.00

So every figure is a multiple of the same monthly salary $m$.

2. The exact mathematical form for Crowcroft

For Crowcroft, the payment is:

$$P_{\text{Crowcroft}}=\mathrm{\pounds }\mathrm{36,694.06}$$

Expressed in terms of the monthly salary:

$$N_{\text{Crowcroft}}=\frac{P_{\text{Crowcroft}}}{m}=\frac{\mathrm{36,694.06}}{\mathrm{4,989.56}}\approx 7.35$$

So the exact calculation is:

$$\boxed{{\displaystyle P_{\text{Crowcroft}}=7.35\times \frac{\mathrm{\pounds }\mathrm{59,874.72}}{12}\approx \mathrm{\pounds }\mathrm{36,694.06}}}$$

The “7.35” is the scheme’s chosen multiplier for his band (long‑serving, retiring Constable with ≥19 years’ continuous service).

3. What band structure can we infer?

3.1. Clear, simple bands

From the one‑term and two‑term casualties:

• One term (Warr, Kovacs):

$$P=1\times m=\mathrm{\pounds }\mathrm{4,989.56}$$

• Two terms (Ward, Jackson, Ahier):

$$P=2\times m=\mathrm{\pounds }\mathrm{9,979.12}$$

These are perfectly integer multiples. That strongly suggests a base rule:

$$\text{Base loss‑of‑office payment}=(\text{number of completed terms})\times m$$

for ordinary Members with one or two consecutive terms.

3.2. Longer service and/or senior roles

For the others, the multiples are non‑integer:

• Mezec (three consecutive terms, former minister):

$$N\approx 3.06$$

• Luce (about 15 years, former minister):

$$N\approx 3.62$$

• Lewis (long service, Deputy then Constable):

$$N\approx 5.13$$

These look like:

$$N\approx (\text{terms})+(\text{extra fraction for senior roles/longer service})$$

i.e. a base “per term” component plus a top‑up for ministerial/Constable service or longer continuous service. The exact fractions (0.06, 0.62, 1.13 months) are too irregular to be simple integers, which points to a bespoke band table in the 2023 determination rather than a single neat formula.

3.3. Retirement bands (≥19 years)

For the three retirees (all ≥19 years’ continuous service):

• Mezbourian: $N\approx 5.13$

• Southern: $N\approx 6.07$

• Crowcroft: $N\approx 7.35$

So there is clearly a separate retirement schedule for long‑serving Members, with higher multipliers than equivalent loss‑of‑office bands, and with Crowcroft at the top—reflecting both length of service and parish role.

In other words, the determination almost certainly contains something like:

• Loss‑of‑office table: bands by number of terms and seniority.

• Retirement table (≥19 years): higher bands, again differentiated by role/length.

But the public articles only show the outputs, not the internal band table.

4. Underlying principles (from the determination and reporting)

From the Remuneration Reviewer’s 2023 determination and the coverage:

• Unit of calculation: All payments are expressed as a multiple of the current monthly salary:

$$\text{Payment}=N\times m$$

• Two distinct schemes:

  • Loss‑of‑office for unsuccessful candidates.

  • Retirement for long‑serving Members (≥19 years’ continuous service in 2026).

• Service‑based and role‑based bands: More terms and more senior roles (minister, Constable) attract higher $N$.

• Special, one‑off 2026 arrangements: The 2026 band tables are bespoke; from 2030 the Reviewer moves to a simpler rule:

$$\text{Future loss‑of‑office}=(\text{years of service})\times m\text{capped after four years}$$

for unsuccessful candidates with at least two years’ continuous service.

5. How consistent is the reverse‑engineered picture?

• Consistent: Every single payment is a clean multiple of the same $m$, and short‑service Members follow a simple “per term” pattern (1 month for one term, 2 months for two terms).

• Patterned but opaque: Longer‑service and retirement payments clearly follow higher bands, but the exact band thresholds and top‑up rules (e.g. how much extra for being a minister vs a Constable vs simply very long‑serving) are not published in the news reports or on the States site.

• So the best we can do mathematically is:

  • State the exact formula for Crowcroft in terms of $m$.

  • Show that all other payments fit the same structure.

  • Infer that the 2023 determination contains a band table assigning:

$$N_{\text{band}}\in \{1,2,3.06,3.62,5.13,6.07,7.35,\dots \}$$

according to service length and role.

Simon Crowcroft was the longest-serving politician in the States Assembly, serving continuously for 29 years and 6 months (December 1996 to June 2026). [1, 2, 3]

[1] https://www.facebook.com

[2] https://www.itv.com

[3] https://je.linkedin.com

[4] https://www.bailiwickexpress.com

[5] https://www.facebook.com

[6] https://www.bailiwickexpress.com

[7] https://www.bailiwickexpress.com

[8] https://www.bailiwickexpress.com

[9] https://www.bailiwickexpress.com

[10] https://statesassembly.je

[11] https://flow.je

[12] https://www.bbc.com

[13] https://www.itv.com

More Short Stories: The Hermit of Patmos

A short story based around the Book of Revelation, the hymn "Veni Creator Spiritus", and the ancient order of Compline. Following John A.T. Robinson and others, I think there is more evidence for the Neronian persecution than the Domitianic dating.

The Hermit of Patmos

The nights are the hardest.

When the wind claws at the cave mouth and the sea roars like a wounded beast, I feel again the smoke of Rome in my lungs, the screams of the faithful carried off to Nero’s gardens. I see the torches, living torches of Christians, tied to wooden posts, set alight, burning in the emperor’s courtyards. I hear the laughter. I smell the flesh.

Rome burned and temples and porticoes were destroyed in the conflagration. I saw the smoke arising from the fallen city of seven hills like incense of ruin. And the Christians paid the price, a scapegoat for Nero, for we are seen as a pernicious superstition, a disease, spreading into the capitol and across the world.

O God, come to our aid.
O Lord, make haste to help us..

I whisper into the dark, come, Creator Spirit, visit the minds of your people. Visit mine, for it is breaking.

I came to Patmos as a fugitive, but I have become a hermit by necessity. The island is barren, a spine of rock thrust from the sea. I eat little, sleep less, and pray always. Yet prayer is no longer the gentle rhythm it once was. It is a trembling, a fire, a weight. For I have seen what no man should see, the celestial fire.

Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire,
and lighten with celestial fire.

It began on a day of thunder. I had been fasting, my body thin as driftwood, when the sky split open with a sound like iron tearing. I fell to the ground, clutching my ears, but the voice entered me like a blade of light: “Fear not.” And then the vision came, bright as the sun, terrible as the storm.

I saw the Son of Man, eyes like flame, hair as white as snow, and his eyes were like blazing fire, feet like burnished bronze. His voice was the voice that stilled the waves of Galilee, yet now it shook the foundations of the world. Around Him seven stars burned, and in His hand was a sword of purest light. I remember crying out, “I am not worthy! I am dust, I am ash!” But He touched me, and strength returned to my bones.

Since that day, the visions have not ceased.

At times I see the throne—high, radiant, encircled by an emerald rainbow. I see the four living creatures crying, “Holy, holy, holy.” I see the elders casting their crowns like sparks before the One who lives forever. And I, a broken man on a forgotten island, tremble at the glory.

Other times I see darker things. Beasts rising from the sea, crowned with blasphemies. A dragon whose tail sweeps the stars from the sky. A woman clothed with the sun, pursued by the ancient serpent. And the smoke of Babylon rising like incense of ruin.

When these visions come, I clutch my cloak and whisper the hymn that has become my anchor: enkindle our senses with light, pour love into our hearts. For without that love, I would be lost. You, O Lord, are in the midst of us and we are called by your name; leave us not, O Lord our God.

Enable with perpetual light
the dullness of our blinded sight.

Tonight, as the moon climbs over the jagged rocks, I feel the weight of the world pressing upon me again. I think of the brothers and sisters who died in Rome, of Peter and Paul, now long dead. I think of the ones still suffering. I think of the Church, small, scattered, hunted, and I wonder how such a fragile flock can endure the wolves. These are savage wolves that have come among us, not sparing our flock.

Then the vision returns, not in thunder this time, but in stillness. A city descends from heaven, radiant as a bride. Its walls gleam with jasper; its gates are pearls; its streets shine like gold refined in fire. And from within it comes a voice like a river: “Behold, I make all things new.”

My tears fall freely. The persecutions, the flames, the exile, the loneliness, none of it is the final word. The final word is glory. The final word is peace. The final word is God. There will be no more night: we will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for God will be our light, in this new world, this new creation, reborn from the ashes of the old.

I rise, steady at last, and whisper into the night: Maranatha, come Lord Jesus, and make this broken world anew.

Enough is Enough

This was heavily influenced in style after re-reading part of Edward Carpenter's "Towards Democracy", and also towards the end by John V Taylor's prophetic book "Enough is Enough".

Enough is Enough

The heat death of the universe, one day:
But not now, now is the day that we pray
For an end to exhausting, oppressive heat;
The Lord Ra sits angry upon his Regal seat,
And looks down with scorn upon all men;
Praises move him not, not pleas, no amen
Can touch his implacable majesty, his face
Turned grim and angry at all lesser beasts;
And the sun, at his command, is like yeast
Rising, yeast within the oven, yeast so hot:
A thousand years of civilisation come to rot,
As dung heaps when he stretches his hand,
As hot as iron in the furnace, desert sand,
And uncaring, those priests of Egypt in vain
Call upon him, but he is deaf, and would fain
Destroy within the noonday sun, Ra now rises,
And buildings are no refuge to a curse devises
Fallen upon mankind. The air heats and takes
Strength from even the strong,and it makes
A folly of those who deny their action, their part
In a catastrophe from the very industrial heart
Of man, from the burning, the oil underground:
Ancient forests exhumed and made to sound
A revolution in machines, that comes to unmake,
The world. What can we do, for can we forsake
The bright baubles of excess, of consumer greed,
And return to our Shalom, of what we just need;
So that Ra may be dethroned, we hear a word,
Softly spoken, but heed it, let it be heard
To say the true amen that enough is enough,
And however hard, how difficult or tough,
This is the word to touch us through the strife,
And to challenge us: choose not death but life.

The Islander: New Bishop Inducts New Dean in 1985

New Bishop Inducts New Dean in 1985

On the 18th of this month two men with new positions vis-à-vis Jersey will come together in a tradition that is hundreds of years old. One will be Bishop Colin James, recently enthroned in Winchester Cathedral, and the other Basil Arthur O'Ferrall. The Venerable Basil O'Ferrall will be sworn in as Jersey's new Dean at the Royal Court in the morning and installed and inducted by the new Bishop as Dean and Rector of St Helier in the evening.

Why should the Bishop of Winchester be involved in such an ancient ceremony? Only because in 1496, when all Channel Islands ties with Normandy had finally been broken, it was no longer considered appropriate for the Islands to be in the French Diocese of Coutances. Henry VII bribed the Pope of that time to give permission for the Channel Isles to be transferred to Salisbury. Another petition by Henry to the Pope, three years later, and a final transference was made to the Diocese of Winchester.

Habits die hard, however, and quite ignoring the Pope's Bulls, the Bishops of Coutances continued to confirm, ordain and induct in the Channel Islands. Moreover, Winchester, being even further away, seemed in no hurry to exert its proper authority. As late as 1564, we find the Bishop of Coutances, in England as French Ambassador, asking to be paid for the services he had rendered to the Channel Islands.

250 years wait

Finally, though, the Church of England decided that this Diocesan Controversy had to be resolved. In 1568 it ordered the Channel Isles to be "separated for ever from the Diocese of Coutances and perpetually united to Winchester". Did the Bishop of Winchester then set sail forthwith to fulfil his duties? Not a bit of it! Jersey men had to wait over 250 years for the first visit of their Bishop.

As Jersey had always been separated, even in the Coutances days, from its Bishop, it felt the need, soon after their Duke of Normandy conquered England, of having someone on the spot to be responsible for ecclesiastical affairs in the islands. So one Robert Merlin is mentioned as Dean of Jersey as early as 1180. But Jersey's Dean is not the same as on the mainland. His full title is "Dean of a Peculiar of the Crown" by which he is appointed. As well as being Dean, he is also Rector of a Parish — for the last 132 years of St Helier — and Judge of the Ecclesiastical Court.

In fact, so close is a Dean of Jersey's authority to that of a Bishop, that since the 14th century he has been entitled to display a crozier or crook on his official seal, just as a Bishop or Abbot would have. Today, his duties are as diverse as sitting with the St Helier Churchwardens on the Parish Wel-fare Board, and opening the proceedings of the Ecclesiastical Court, the States and Parish Assemblies with the traditional prayers in French. More importantly, as head of the Anglican Church in Jersey, his main and difficult task is to guard its traditions while, at the same time, making them relevant to the congregations of today.

Basil O'Ferrall will be the 32nd Dean of Jersey, but he has examples before him of quite "un-Deanish" behaviour — which he would be wise not to emulate. Imagine a 20th century Dean being labelled an outlaw, a traitor or a rebel leader!

In the 14th century Dean Pierre Falayse was outlawed because he dared to usurp the power of the Crown, and his successor, Geoffroi de Carteret, was forever being involved in lawsuits. Later, there was

Dean Bandinel was Jersey's version of the Vicar of Bray. As Rector of St Brelade in 1601, he was a Calvanist, but twelve years later, as Dean, he had to re-establish Anglicanism in the Island. In the Civil War he became leader of the Parliamentarians, though still continuing to pray for the King. When there was a swing in favour of the Royalists, however, his old enemy, the Royalist de Carteret, had him thrown into prison.

Fearful of the fate that awaited him and his son in Gorey Castle, he decided to try to escape to England. So one stormy night saw Dean Bandinel and his son dangling from a rope attached to a small window at the top of the Castle. As the rope was too short the Dean's son fell on to the rocks below, injuring himself severely. As the rope was not strong enough, when the Dean started to climb down it broke and he too was hurled on to the rocks, sustaining frightful and fatal injuries.

At the end of the 18th century Dean Dupre's girth was attributed to the number of turkeys he had eaten — bought by selling the Communion Wine! For getting the Privy Council to reverse the Royal Court's decision concerning an unsavoury character (the Rev. Edward Le Vavasseur dit Durell) Dean Hue was so venomously attacked by the newspapers of the time, that he openly declared his regret at ever having decided to come to Jersey in the first place!

Many, however, will be the good wishes of the Island that, after the Venerable Basil O'Ferrall has been installed and inducted by Winchester's new Bishop, the Island's new Dean will thoroughly enjoy and relish his term of office in Jersey and not regret that he came here.

(Compiled from research by Leslie Sinel).

Senator Lyndon Farnham's Q&A

 

Senator Lyndon Farnham secured the Assembly’s backing to become Jersey’s next Chief Minister after an hour of questioning that tested his plans on housing, health, spending, the environment and political judgement. 

He outlined several “clear priorities” for the next four years: maintaining sustainable public finances, boosting economic growth, improving affordability and housing, strengthening health and public services, and raising government performance. He pledged to build consensus while staying focused on delivering outcomes islanders expect.

States Members pressed him heavily on public spending. Farnham assured Deputy Tom Coles that fiscal discipline would mean cutting waste and inefficiency rather than reducing support for vulnerable islanders, emphasising that help must be “properly targeted.”

On Fort Regent, he said the first draft redevelopment vision had been shared with young people and that, if plans stay on track, the site should reopen by 2030. He called the Fort’s long-term decay “unacceptable”.

The cost-of-living crisis dominated discussion. Farnham acknowledged Jersey’s limited control over inflation due to reliance on imports but said government could still act by improving efficiency, reducing fees and regulation, and promoting competition. He stressed this would be a high priority.

Health spending drew scrutiny from Deputy Louise Doublet. Farnham argued that significant post‑Covid cost pressures required eliminating duplication and inefficiency across the public sector and arms‑length bodies.

On housing, he noted that many approved developments remain stalled due to inadequate infrastructure, particularly water and drainage. Current roadworks form part of efforts to fix this. He said the next Island Plan will be one of Jersey’s most important documents.

Farnham also signalled that some environmental targets—such as banning fossil‑fuel car imports by 2030—may need to be slowed to remain realistic.

A tense moment came when Deputy Montfort Tadier questioned External Relations Minister Ian Gorst’s decision to provide a character reference for disgraced Guernsey politician Jonathan Le Tocq. Farnham said “judgement is a prerequisite” for all ministers.

He must now present his proposed ministerial team by 26 June.

More Short Stories: Dean Annesley and the Hope of Freedom

The story heavily features the evening hymn “All praise to Thee, my God, this night” (also known as “Glory to Thee, my God, this night”), ending with Thomas Ken's famous Doxology. Strictly speaking, although Ken’s hymn was written in 1674, before William’s landing in 1688, the hymn would not have been widely known. However, I hope the reader can forgive this small anachronism.

Dean Annesley and the Hope of Freedom
A story of Exeter Cathedral

Dean Annesley stood beneath the great Norman arches of Exeter Cathedral, the last notes of “All praise to Thee, my God, this night “drifting upward into the soaring vaulting. The choirboys’ voices faded like candle‑smoke, leaving the vast space trembling with the memory of harmony. Outside, November winds pressed against the ancient stones, harbingers of the news from the coast, that William of Orange had arrived with his army in Devon, come to deliver England from the tyranny of King James II. It was a kingdom poised on the edge of change.

He remained in his stall long after the congregation had gone, his hands resting on the worn oak, his breath clouding faintly in the cold. The candles along the choir flickered, casting long shadows across the tombs of bishops and canons. Tomorrow, if the whispers were true, William of Orange would ride into Exeter, and bring deliverance.

Annesley closed his eyes. Only months earlier he had stood in this very place, refusing to read King James II’s Declaration of Indulgence, a command that violated both law and conscience. He had felt the weight of the Crown pressing upon him, the threat of dismissal, imprisonment, disgrace. Yet he had resisted. Not for rebellion’s sake, but for the Anglican settlement, he had sworn to uphold: Scripture, reason, and the ordered tradition that Richard Hooker had defended so nobly. Annesley had declared he would rather be hanged at the doors of his cathedral than that the declaration should be read there.

Hooker was born in Heavitree, not far from Exeter. In his “Ecclesiastical Polity”, he had argued that church governance and the laws of the realm must be bound by redeemed human reason and the rule of law, rather than the arbitrary, absolute whims of a monarch. The laws protecting the national church were sacred and could not be single-handedly overwritten by royal decree. And yet King James II had bypassed Parliament to alter religious laws, and violated this. Although nearly a hundred years separated Annesley and Hooker, he stood firmly on the foundations laid down by Hooker during the Elizabethan settlement.

How often had he drawn strength from Hooker’s calm, measured prose, written in an age no less turbulent than his own. Hooker had argued that the Church of England was neither Rome nor Geneva, but a middle way shaped by charity, learning, and the quiet confidence that truth need not shout to be heard.

Teach me to live, that I may dread
The grave as little as my bed…

The hymn’s words lingered in his mind. Tonight they felt less like poetry and more like a prayer for a nation. A verger passed silently through the choir, gathering books. “A strange evening, Dean,” he murmured. “The city is restless. Inns full, many whispering in corners. They say the Prince is near.” Annesley nodded. “England has waited long for deliverance. But deliverance must come with order, not chaos.”

He rose and walked slowly down the nave. The great west window glowed faintly with the last light of day, caught in a perpetual sunrise, a patchwork of fragments of saints and prophets and clear glass, all that remained after the Puritan soldiers had destroyed it. Beneath them, the stones bore the marks of centuries: the scars of the Civil War, the soot of old candles, the footsteps of pilgrims who had prayed for kings, for peace, for mercy. He wondered what tomorrow’s pilgrims would pray for. He knew many of the Cathedral’s cathedral's canons and prebendaries were terrified. Should they stay, and face treason if William failed?

At the crossing Annesley paused, listening to the cathedral breathe. To the side of him, the massive, decorative tin organ pipes loomed above him like a forest of silver. He imagined the sound that would fill the space when the news finally broke , when William’s banner was raised in the city, when the people poured into the Close, when hope, long suppressed, found its voice again.

Yet hope alone was not enough. England needed steadiness. England needed the very thing Hooker had given her: a Church rooted deeply enough to withstand the storms of kings.

O may my soul on Thee repose… 

He whispered the line into the stillness.

Outside, a bell tolled the hour. The wind shifted, carrying with it the distant sound of horses on the London road. And on that road was Bishop Lamplugh, who had delivered a fiery public address urging the people of his diocese to stay fiercely loyal to the Catholic King James II before fleeing three days before to support King James II in London.

Annesley drew his cloak around him and stepped into the nave’s shadowed length. Tomorrow, he thought, the Prince would come. And when he did, Exeter Cathedral, this house of prayer, this witness to England’s conscience, would stand ready, just as it always had. And he recalled as a prayer those words of Bishop Thomas Ken, ending that great evening hymn:

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

The Railway

One from the archive. This was written in Exeter, Winter 1977, a cold winter although the snow only came the following March. I was at the time in student halls of residence - Murray House, Duryard Halls (now demolished) and my window faced out to trees, and beyond that, the railway lines, so when it wa open I could hear the trains going by. Not steam trains, of course, that is poetic licence in the picture,

The Railway

Shunting, groaning, squeaking
The train rumbles on
Into the station

The doors open, the crowds rush out
While other crowds rush in
At the station

The whistle blows, the train is off
Steaming, moaning, rattling
Out of the station

At last the moon breaks through the clouds
The Railway is empty now
By the station