Sunday, 14 April 2013

On Being Right

"There is no absolute knowledge. And those who claim it, whether they are scientists or dogmatists, open the door to tragedy." (Jacob Bronowski)
 
There is a Referendum, which is soon taking place in Jersey on revamping membership and constituency boundaries, and I've been following the debates with interest.
 
It is typical of many political debates in that each of the different camps thinks they are right, they have the best option. This can be expressed in many different ways, of course. Some think the alternatives to their position are not fair or unequal. Others look to keep some existing elements of Parish Representation. Others are unhappy with the choices given, and the third choice is basically the current position as a rejection of the other two choices.
 
Everyone there had a viewpoint, and they all believe they are right, which reminds me of an old folk tale.

It is a folk tale from Turkey, which probably originated in Persia, which appears in various forms, about the Mullah Nasrudin, also called at times the Hodja. It looks at the idea of being right, and how two sides (or is it three?) can in fact be right:
 
The Mulla was made a magistrate. During his first case the plaintiff argued so persuasively that he exclaimed: 'I believe that you are right!'
 
The clerk of the Court begged him to restrain himself, for the defendant had not been heard yet.
 
Nasrudin was so carried away by the eloquence of the defendant that he cried out as soon as the man had finished his evidence: 'I believe you are right!'
 
The clerk of the Court could not allow this.
 
'Your honour, they cannot both be right.'
 
'I believe you are right!' said Nasrudin.
 
In other versions of the story, the Hodja is intervening in a dispute between two friends of his, and his wife is the one who tells him they cannot both be right. These are old folk tales, and while the substance remains the same, the protagonists differ.
 
But the main thrust of the story is the same. The person making a case thinks they are right, and they have the best possible case, better than their opponent or opponents.
 
The danger is when thinking you are right means that you cannot conceive that your opponent may also think the same. It is important to concede that, from another point of view, someone may see matters very differently, and believe just as passionately that they are right.
 
Why is it important? It is important because without that degree of intellectual humility, there is a great danger of denigrating other people, and riding roughshod over them. We must be passionate about our own beliefs, but we should be careful not to assume that we must be right. We could be wrong.
 
Despots believe that they have absolute certainty, and act accordingly. They never contemplate they could be mistaken. But the path to the despot can be paved with good intentions, with reshaping the world, with political interventions that are believed to be right.
 
Karl Popper's thinking, which he called "critical rationalism" was shaped by his study of Socrates and Socratic method. It could perhaps be best summed up in a nutshell as he once put it: ""I may be wrong and you may be right, and by an effort, we may get nearer to the truth."
 
He also noted how we so often have a blind spot against any weaknesses in our own beliefs, in what we believe to be right: "If we are uncritical we shall always find what we want: we shall look for, and find, confirmations, and we shall look away from, and not see, whatever might be dangerous to our pet theories."
 
There is a small tyrant in all of us, saying that our beliefs are right, they cannot be wrong, and anyone who does not think as we do is wrong. It is not a big tyrant; it doesn't effect most of the ways we act, but it is lurking there, waiting for a chance to come out and take over. Feed it, water it, and it will grow. Go into politics, and it may well bloom in that soil. Politicians so often know best.
 
So sometimes it does us good to catch ourselves when we want the last word, to make our point, to show that "we are right" and "they are wrong". That small tyrant inside us is at work, pulling our strings like a puppeteer, giving us an itch we want to scratch. Shall I have the last word? Perhaps today, I'll step back and let the other person have the last word. I'll break the chronic pattern.
 
And sometimes it does us good to play the philosopher, and think, "what if I could be wrong or mistaken", and try and put ourselves inside someone else's head, to see the world through a different viewpoint.
 
That is something that despots and tyrants never do.

Saturday, 13 April 2013

Political People

Having been to a Referendum meeting last night, this poem reflects on how much our ability with language marks us out as different from other living creatures. It is something we can easily overlook, but the smallest occasion, a meeting of around 100 people, with speakers and listeners, is still a marvel, a living miracle. We are just so used to that we take it for granted...

Political People

I find myself a comfortable seat
Awaiting the talks with eager ears
Speakers make points, a verbal beat
It is good natured, no one jeers

Alas! There is no Parliament of Owls
Bears having picnic in the wood
A dog does not debate, it only growls
How different we are that we could!

It goes with notice, this amazing feat
Communication, arguments, and talk
And someone makes the odder Tweet
Language makes us, we don't squawk

I watch the miracle of humankind unfold
In just one meeting, if truth be told.

Friday, 12 April 2013

Some New Political Definitions

Pitman, noun. An individual who speaks very loudly all the time.
 
Example: "Brian Blessed bellowed out his lines like a pitman mining the coal face."
 
Tadier, noun. A kind of pannier, usually found draped lopsidedly on the left side of a bicycle.
 
Example: "They thought he was leaning to the left as he peddled along, but it was only his tadier, weighted down with a copy of 'Socialist Drinking Songs in Jerriais'"
 
Shenton, verb. To absent oneself after making a very visible appearance.
 
Example: "He was only there for the role call, and then he shentoned off back to his office."
 
Murphy, noun - a generous pound of stout brewed in the Parish of Grouville.
 
Example: "You may have a wee dram in St Helier, but we like a large tankard of murphy in Grouville"
 
Rondel, noun - a large round dwelling in which Northern Deputies live. It is usually in a remote location, far from any main drains.
 
Example: "The best granite rondels in the Island are in St John. It's just a pity they are not plumbed into main drains. They could do with more thatch on top, as well."
 
Crowcroft, noun - an Urban Dwelling House for retired Constables who used to be out on the streets with a vengeance, as members of the "A Team".
 
Example: "Now the A-Team had defeated the bad guys, it was time for Simon to retire to the Crowcroft, and decide what career to follow".
 
Mezec, verb. Obsessively looking at numbers.
 
Example: "He used to collect used lottery tickets, mezecing them to see if there was a numeric deficit"
 
Maclean, verb. To say very little with a lot of vague words.
 
Example: "The Minister macleaned the audience on BBC Radio Jersey, saying that all considerations were being taken into account, and despite the recession, the economic development strategy was on target and would be effective at the appropriate junction."
 
Higgins, noun. A matter of principle, which can on occasion, go on for too long.
 
Example: "He was forever asking questions, and blasting the politicians, sticking firmly to his higgins."
 
Duhamel, noun. A habitat for the greater crested tit.
 
Example: "Sir David Attenborough's voice dropped to a whisper as he saw the flutter of wings from within the duhamel. A beak emerged from within the dense foliage."
 
Ozouf, noun. An exclamation of exuberance about very little at all.
 
Example: "When he saw that the unemployment figures had dropped when one individual had found work, one had died, and one had taken up the "Advance to Bad Wurzach" employment scheme, he was overjoyed. 'Some people say I do too little', he exclaimed, "but I tell them I do ozouf".
 
Ryan, adjective. A description for political economising.
 
Example: "It was a ryan shame that there would no longer be free music lessons for schoolchildren. Once it was the milk snatcher, now it was the tune snatcher."
 
Rennard, verb. To serenade, usually in song.
 
Example: "Whenever she had the opportunity, she would rennard her Parishioners with the song 'Goodnight, sweetheart'"
 
Gorst, verb. To take the Island along pathways new.
 
Example: "This is Jersey's four year mission. To boldly gorst where no man has gone before."

Thursday, 11 April 2013

Adventurous Jerseymen - Daniel Dumaresq

The "Pilot" was for many years the magazine for the Anglican Church in Jersey, and during 1981, there was an occasional series entitled "Adventurous Jerseymen". I have unfortunately been unable to ascertain who the author was, but they provided a colourful account of some very remarkable Jerseymen.
 
Here is one from the "Pilot" in 1981:
 
Adventurous Jerseymen
 
Doctors of Divinity are not as a rule conspicuous for their spirit of adventure, and Daniel Dumaresq, one of the eleven children of the Seigneur of Augres, Trinity, seemed destined to the colourless life of an eighteenth-century scholar.
 
Well-drilled in classics at St Mannellier, the former Jersey Grammar School, and then at Abingdon, he went to Pembroke College, Oxford. He took his B.A. in 1733, and in 1740 was elected to a Fellowship at Exeter College. Four years later he added to his duties the curacy of the village of Merton, riding out every Sunday ten miles to take Services. In 1745 he was granted his B.D.
 
We might now have expected him to remain in Oxford for the rest of his life. He had comfortable quarters in College, an income sufficient to live on, supplemented by pupils' fees and his curacy. It would have seemed a pretty safe prophecy that forty years later he would be found, a dim, stooping, cap-and-gowned figure still poring over tomes in the Bodleian Library, and swopping syllogisms at night over the port in the Senior Common Room, peradventure correcting proofs of a ponderous commentary on the works of Dionysius the Aeropagite or an exhaustive refutation of the heresy of the Supra-lapsarians.
 
One thing, however, he did in those Oxford days, unusual for a Fellow of Exeter. The College Register records that "he planned and superintended making the walk up Headington Hill," a well-known footpath outside Oxford.
 
But Dumaresq was a Jerseyman, and the wanderlust was stirring in his blood. In 1746 he abandoned Oxford for the Chaplaincy of the English Factory at Petersburg.
 
About forty years before, on a swampy islet inhabited only by wild-fowl, Peter the Great had cut the first sod of what was to be his new capital. The city was still little more than a cluster of wooden shanties built on piles in the mud round the gloomy fortress of St Peter and St Paul. To most Englishmen Russia was then as unknown a land as Bukhara, but shrewd London merchants had seen that the great river Neva, at the mouth of which Petersburg stood, would become one of the main trade-routes of Europe.
 
They had formed the Russia Company, and, when Dumaresq went out, "greatly above a half of the commerce of Petersburg" passed through the Company's hands. Above an enormous wooden warehouse lived about a hundred Englishmen, factors, apprentices, clerks, and porters, and Dumaresq was given rooms among them a their Chaplain.
 
He remained in Petersburg seventeen years, and learnt to speak Russian fluently, and translated at least one Russian book, "An Account of Kanitchatka" into English. Nor did he neglect his studies, for in             1752 he wrote a thesis for which Oxford granted him his D.D.
 
But, when he had been ten years in Russia, that brilliant and erratic Welshman, Sir Charles Hanbury Williams, arrived as British Ambassador, and made Dumaresq his chaplain. It was a big change from the trading factory to the household of this wealthy exquisite, leader of the "beau monde", notorious for his immoralities. He had as secretary a handsome young Pole,
Stanislaus Poniatowski, who quickly became the lover of the Grand Duchess Catherine, the young wife of the Grand Duke Peter, the heir to the throne.
 
Dumaresq now had the entree to the Palace, and made friends with most of the leading men of Russia. It was not easy to walk unspotted through the corruptest Court in Christendom. He seems, however, to have managed to retain the respect of everyone. Poniatowski and Catherine, of whose guilty secret he remained ignorant, showed great affection for him.
 
Poniatowski wrote: - "I well remember the many days we spent together exchanging ideas"; and later, "For ten years I have proved from personal knowledge the goodness and sweetness of his character."
 
After two years Williams was recalled, and Dumaresq returned to his Factory, but he still remained a welcome visitor at Court. He saw Poniatowski banished, and Peter become Czar, but after the coup d'état, which made Catherine autocrat of Russia in place of her murdered husband, he returned to England, and became Rector of the little Somerset village of Yeovilton, a post which he held for the next 42 years.
 
But Catherine did not forget him. As Empress her ambition was to Westernize her vast dominions, and among other spectacular reforms she planned "to create a new race of fathers and mothers" by establishing secondary and elementary schools from the Caucasus to the Arctic. She summoned Dumaresq to help her.
 
"Mistaking my zeal and industry", he wrote, "For marks of uncommon ability, she was pleased to call me from this quiet village, and repeatedly invited me to return to Russia." To educate illiterate Russia was a task from which the hardiest enthusiast might have flinched; but Dumaresq consented to go on condition that he might have as colleague the educational theorist, Dr John Brown.
 
Catherine promptly sent £1,000 for Browns travelling expenses and the two scholars drew up an exhaustive scheme together; but on the eve of sailing Brown committed suicide, and Dumaresq had to go alone.
 
On arrival he found the difficulties even greater than he had feared. The schools were only one of a score of Brobdingnagian revolutions that the masterful Catherine wished to carry out simultaneously. But he did at last get his plan accepted by the officials concerned, and then he had to leave the Russians to carry it out for themselves. The village schools never materialized, but a number of high-schools were opened in the towns for children of the upper classes, and staffed by teachers recruited in France.
 
But Dumaresq was not yet allowed to return home. Poniatowski had now been elected King of Poland, and he pleaded with Dumaresq to come to help him to establish schools there. So most of the year 1766 was spent in Poland, creating the outline of an educational system for that country; the watch which the King gave him is in the Jersey Museum.
 
By the end of that year he was back in his Somerset Rectory, Here Pitt often stayed with him, and "in his snug parlour the Premier would resuscitate his early days by discussing with his learned friend some disputed classical passage." Pitt introduced him to George III, who was much attracted by his erudition and modesty.
 
Payne tells how once, when the King was at Weymouth, "a tall ungainly, travel-stained ecclesiastic" stepped off the Jersey packet. George clapped him on the back, took his arm, and walked up and down with him for an hour, saying afterwards to his courtiers, `That was Dr Dumaresq, one of the most worthy and disinterested men in my dominions."
 
Pitt tried in vain to persuade him to accept a Bishopric; but he became Prebendary of Salisbury and later of Wells. In 1800 he presented his books to our Jersey Public Library, thus almost doubling Falle's original bequest. He died at the age of 93.
 
The Annual Register wrote of him: "Perhaps the uniform conduct of no man in this or any other country came nearer to that of the Primitive Christians in the Apostolic Age than that of this venerable divine in his very long life."

Wednesday, 10 April 2013

RIP: Margaret Thatcher

It will probably be another 50 years before historians can look back dispassionately and examine the legacy of Margaret Thatcher. One of the best adjectives to describe her tenure as Prime Minister is that it was "transformational"; that is a good term, because it is not judgmental. It is certain both from supporters and critics alike that she changed British society in ways that hitherto had been outside the post-war consensus government.

She succeeded in becoming Prime Minister after the dying years of the Callaghan administration. This was the time of the "winter of discontent", when bodies were being left unburied because of strike action, rubbish was accumulating, and the Unions were flexing their muscles.

It is hard to appreciate just how undemocratic the Unions were. The Union barons, with block votes, dominated the Labour Party, with no need to take account of the views of their membership by secret ballot, flying pickets went around the country, attracting just those kind of militant thugs who did not really care about political issues, but just enjoyed a good scrap.

The Heath government had gone head on against the Unions over pay negotiations, and failed. Lack of power caused by diminishing coal supplies led to the three-day week, and the TV stations going off the air early in the evening. Locally, Channel Television, unaffected by the UK conditions, resorted to showing some wonderfully vintage black and white films to plug the gap.

Once Wilson was back in Number 10 Downing Street, the scramble for pay just let rip; there was really little attempt to constrain the nationalised industries, and as a result of that, and the oil crisis, inflation was rocketing. When the Callaghan Government tried to salvage the economy with help from the IMF and tighter monetary control, the Unions went on strike everywhere.

It was in these tempestuous times that Margaret Thatcher won the election and became Prime Minister. By cleverly picking a fight against the most militant of Trade Union leader's Arthur Scargill, and by introducing laws which outlawed secondary picketing, and illegal strike action without full secret ballot on members, she set to face the same battle which had wrecked Heath and Callaghan with a better armoury.

Scargill knew he could not count on a full ballot to support him, so he decided not to bother, and simply called out the Union members on strike. This was to be his undoing. In the first instance, coal had been stockpiled for power stations, so Margaret Thatcher could play a waiting game, and secondarily, the undemocratic means of calling a strike meant that legal action could be taken against the miners, freezing Union bank accounts, and removing their economic buffer. As Andrew Marr pointed out, she was lucky in her choice of enemies; another Union leader may have acted more cautiously.

The government won the battle with the miners, and began a radical programme of mine closures of the most uneconomic pits. As North Sea oil was coming on line, this changed the assessment of what was economic and what was not. After all, in a time of fuel scarcity, it would be worth mining at greater cost, and it is possible that some pits would be viable today when more limited fuel supplies have driven the price of oil up, and made previously uneconomic forms of oil extraction viable.

Instead, the short sightedness of the policy of allowing present market forces rather than future projections meant that a massive mine closure programme was instituted, leaving the North of England, and parts of Wales, the coal powerhouses, devastated. The transition was so quick that hundreds of families and workers were thrown on the scrap heap; no consideration was given to any kind of transitional planning for new ventures and employment.

It was the same kind of shortsightedness that caused Margaret Thatcher's greatest triumph - the Falklands War. The Government was steadily reducing and cutting back the armed forces; the Naval presence in the South Atlantic around the Falkland Islands was removed. The message that Argentina could see was that the Britain was withdrawing from defence of its overseas territories, so General Galtieri, looking for a diversion from his crumbling domestic policies, saw a quick takeover as a means of boosting his popularity once more. The situation of the Navy when Britain went to war was so bad they had to hire cruise ships to transport the troops into the war zone.

Of course, winning the war was a huge boost to Margaret Thatcher's popularity, and complaints about domestic policy were largely overshadowed in the next election by the triumph of the foreign polity, which was played up for all it was worth by the Conservative marketing agencies and politicians.

But on the domestic front, the ideological nature of the Thatcher revolution would have far-reaching consequences, some of which are with us to this day. Of course it was sensible to remove some industries from the scope of Nationalisation. The Government had no reason to be heavily involved in running the business of planes, trains or automobiles. But the programme of privatisation which followed often left too little oversight and regulation.

Taking the trains as one example, the split of the monolith of British railways into smaller private companies, whose bottom line was their shareholders, meant that unless strongly regulated, insufficient funds would be returned to maintaining infrastructure. Successive post-Thatcher governments inherited this policy and kept it as the status quo, until eventually a number of train disasters caused by poorly maintained lines led to government intervention. But it began with the Thatcher regime, which over relied on market forces, and was lax on regulation.

We can see the same aspects unfolding in the water industry after privatisation. In some locales, the often ancient network of pipes needed a good deal of money thrown at it; pipes were leaking so much water that drought provisions would remain in place even when the region concerned had considerable volumes of rain to boost the reservoirs. But there was not sufficiently strong regulation, just a trust to the markets to resolve the matter. When given a choice between distributions to shareholders or reinvestment in infrastructure, there could be little doubt which direction the markets would go.

The private television companies also suffered from the ideology of shaking up the system with market forces. When franchises came up for renewal, the whole matter was turned into a circus by making them bid in a blind auction. Some lucky ones bid low and stayed producing, but others - Yorkshire being an example - virtually bankrupted themselves with loans, so that although they got the franchise, there was simply not the money there had been for quality television. Coupled with a decline in advertising revenue, this reduced the output of quality television to a fraction of what it had been, paving the way towards endless reality TV shows, which required no actor to be paid, and could be churned out cheaply.

But probably the most pernicious long-term disaster was the deregulation of the City. Lax regulation - a "light touch", first instituted under the Thatcher government, but inherited and continued by successive governments thereafter, meant that morality was jettisoned in favour of the culture of get rich bankers bonuses and city traders taking huge risks. Along the way, Barings Bank collapsed, Polly Peck collapsed and there is a straight line of lax regulation, and over reliance on market forces leading from the 1980s to the present day banking crisis.

The final ideological change was a failure. The Community Charge or "Poll Tax" was pushed through to replace property rates, and proved hugely unpopular. It was clear that Margaret Thatcher was committed to it on principle, and would not moderate her stance; its abolition would not be possible while she was still Prime Minister. Fears of Conservative defeat meant that she had become an albatross around the neck of her party, and a challenge begun by Michael Heseltine led to her resignation as Prime Minister.
 
Like all politicians, she had her strengths and weaknesses. An appeal to populism, and an ability to take on the Unions when they were acting like undemocratic robber Barons was a great strength, as was her determination to fight the Falklands War rather than sue for peace. The monetary policy, with a bit of help from North Sea oil revenues flowing into the Exchequer, also helped to reduce inflation to manageable proportions; previously it had been increasingly rising out of control.

But he strength was also her weakness, an inability to doubt that what she was doing was right, and foresee that market forces alone could not deliver what she wanted to achieve. That blinkered approach and ideology would leave a toxic legacy that we live with today, and it would eventually seal her own fate as Prime Minister.

Tuesday, 9 April 2013

Victoria College Jersey Registers Online 1852-1956

I have now scanned the entire admissions from the Register from 1930-1956, which was a bound publication, and put it online for family historians at Scribd.

Some entries are very sparse, others contain a potted history of family background, family members, and subsequent career of pupils.

The documents are scanned in landscape mode, so will need to be downloaded as PDFs, which can then be viewed rotated by 90%. Scribd has a facility for downloading documents as PDFs, which is very simple - just click on links as appropriate. For more help see:

http://support.scribd.com/entries/25511-how-do-i-download-content-from-scribd  

http://www.scribd.com/doc/134192038/Victoria-College-Register-Index-1930-1956
http://www.scribd.com/doc/134192633/Victoria-College-Register-1930-1956-Part-1-4
http://www.scribd.com/doc/134193166/Victoria-College-Register-1930-1956-Part-2-4
http://www.scribd.com/doc/134193369/Victoria-College-Register-1930-1956-Part-3-4
http://www.scribd.com/doc/134193466/Victoria-College-Register-1930-1956-Part-4-4

Previously, I scanned the entire admissions from the Register from 1852-1929, which was a bound publication, and put it online for family historians at Scribd.

http://www.scribd.com/doc/58994694/Victoria-College-Register-1852-1929-Index-of-Names
http://www.scribd.com/doc/58994780/Victoria-College-Register-1852-1929-Pages-1-100  
http://www.scribd.com/doc/58994873/Victoria-College-Register-1852-1929-Pages-101-199  
http://www.scribd.com/doc/58994942/Victoria-College-Register-1852-1929-Pages-200-240  


A transcribed index can be found at:
http://members.societe-jersiaise.org/whitsco/VCIndex1.htm

Interpreting the listing - an illustration

Dupre, EM, 1929. Entrance 1883
Edward Martin, son of E Dupre, ST Peter's. Capt. RJ Militia. Deceased.

The listings give the name, parent, parent's address, then occupation of pupil after leaving college.

So:

If the parent has a prefix, e.g. Dr., this would be son of Dr xxx. etc. or son of Capt. xxx.
Otherwise it refers to the pupil's subsequent history. In this instance, Edward Dupre became a captain in the Royal Jersey Militia.

Deceased, where stated, means that the information filtered back to the register, and that they were known to have died before the publication date (around 1930), not that they necessarily died in the war. That is usually stated if the case.

Monday, 8 April 2013

Apples and Pears

Sir Philip Bailhache has had a lot of mention in Tweets and quotes on Facebook citing him stating that "there is no voter equity in Reform Option B".  This reminds me a good deal of Christian fundamentalists that I have had dealings with in the past who came up with Bible texts to support their particular positions. What they did was to take a single text and use that, often out of context. It is called a "proof text", and it is generally recognised as a bad way of presenting a case; it tears the quotation from its overall context, where all the other things that should be heard are also found. The Option A camp are basically doing something very similar with Sir Philip's quotation, presenting it torn out of context, so that the rest of what he says goes unheard.

Let's look at a a few examples from Hansard when he says as much, but looking at the broader context:

"The Deputy's approach seems to be that there is no voter equity in reform option B and, therefore, reform option B should go.  But as the commission has made it clear in its report, the question of voter equity is not the only consideration.  Option A offers the public voter equity, whereas option B offers something quite different.  It offers voter equity in terms of the 30 Deputies, but it also offers a continuation of the direct constitutional link between the States and the Parishes, which many people believe to be of fundamental importance. "

"You cannot voter equity on the one hand and the link with the Parishes on the other. They are apples and pears. You cannot have voter equity if the Constables remain in the States, the commission has conceded that, but equally you cannot have a constitutional link with the Parishes if you have an Assembly composed only of Deputies representing large Districts. So which is the more important? That, the commission says, is the issue for the electorate; it is for the people to decide."

"The commission knew that more than half of those who had made submissions to it had wanted the Constables out of the States.  Now, it seemed to the commission much fairer to the public to give the public separate options, one with the Constables and one without.  I wonder what Deputy Southern would have done if the commission had recommended a single question around option B.  That would have met the Deputy's requirement for a clear and simple yes/no question, but he would not have liked the question.  Would he have sought, then, to amend it to include an option A, which is the commission's recommendation, or would he have voted against the Referendum Act and deprived the public of the right to vote in the referendum? "

So what Senator Bailhache is saying is that there are two differing considerations, and they need to be balanced. We can see an example of this balance in the USA, in its bicameral system, where in "Connecticut Compromise", it was established that in the Senate, every state would have two seats. In the House of Representatives, the number of seats would depend on population.

If Jersey was bicameral with the Constables sitting in one House, and the Deputies in the other allocated to even constituencies, this would be an exact match with the USA setup. No one, as far as I am aware, has been saying that the USA is a terrible democracy because this breaches the Venice Commission; this may be because the Venice Commission considers only the primary legislative chambers (as can be seen by reading their literature), and yet it is well known that the Senate can cause considerable difficulties and compromises by the Government to enable legislation to be passed; the recent crisis over the "fiscal cliff" is a good example of that. Unlike the House of Lords, the Senate has real abilities to impede or block legislative change, and it can in fact pass any bill except that for raising revenue or authorizing the expenditure of federal funds (appropriation bills). It also has considerable other powers to do with ratification of treaties and appointments of officials.

But Jersey is unicameral, hence it is rather like a merging of two different bicameral systems into one, one of which (the Deputies) could certainly be arranged on a proportional basis, and the other (the Constables), like the USA Senate, is based on historic divisions - in Jersey, the Parishes, in the USA, the separate States.

Without the creation of a bicameral system, which has been mooted as a possibility, there are, as in the USA, two different methods of representation, one of which preserves a "direct constitutional link between the States and the Parishes" in the same way that the Senate preserves the direct link between the United States Congress and the discrete States, and in exactly the same way - "each U.S. state is represented by two senators, regardless of population".

This differentiation between "apples and pears" is something which is lost in the simple numerical considerations of option A, but one which certainly exercised the founding father's of the USA Congress considerably. That is why the Senate has considerable powers; it was designed to ensure that it could provide a "check and balance" to the powers of other elements of the Federal Government. It can be argued that the Constables exercise a partly similar role in providing a check on an over centralised States of Jersey.

The USA rejected the Virginia Plan which would have seen the Senate as well as the House of Representatives both on a proportional basis because smaller States were afraid that such an arrangement would result in their voices and interests being drowned out by the larger states., and they argued successfully that the states were, in fact, of a legally equal status. The compromise was that the House of Representatives should be on the proportional Virginia plan, while the Senate would allow the States an equal vote in the New Jersey Plan. Apples and Pears was the order of the day.

Sir Philip Bailhache makes it very clear that Option B provides thinking on those lines; by selectively quoting him out of context, the arguments for Option B get overlooked, and it appears as if he is suggesting one Option would be less democratic. But in fact, he is suggesting no such thing; he is suggesting that like the USA, there are different considerations to be made in determining how the democratic systems function. It is Apples and Pears.

And he also addresses - as recorded in Hansard - the situation of where Option A candidates can go for a second preference. It has been argued that those who wish to retain the Constables can argue for B - reform, or if reform fails, Option C, the current situation, which they don't clearly want (otherwise why vote for Option B!) but as a fall back position against Option A. After all Option B supporters want change, but not Option A, and the same (in reverse) is true for Option B supporters:

The same strategy can be adopted against Option B by the supporters of Option A:

"The effect of the second preference is to move your ballot paper from one pile to another if your first preference is eliminated.  The misapprehension is that you get 2 votes.  You do not.  The second preference is to allow your vote to count if your first preference is eliminated.  So if you are an A voter, like Deputy Martin or Deputy Southern, you should ask yourself what you would like to happen in the unlikely event that the A vote comes lowest in the poll and is eliminated.  It is probably not very likely but I assume that such voters would ask themselves which was the lesser of 2 evils, the B option or the C option, the status quo, and that would be the second preference.  If they felt genuinely that they could not vote for either then that would be their position but that would be surprising, considering that the status quo is what we have at the moment."

He also makes it clear how he sees the result of a vote in favour of Option C:

"A vote for the status quo is, and was intended by the commission, to be a negative vote in relation to the reform options.  It was not necessarily intended to be an endorsement of the status quo because the commission has made it clear that it does not like the status quo but it is the only other option available."

So the Commission's interpretation of Option C is not that the status quo is satisfactory, but that the reform choices given (Option A, Option B, reduction to 42 members, loss of Senators) is not necessarily ones which the general public endorse. In other words, back to the drawing board, but not that change is not necessary, only that there is no public endorsement for the changes on offer. That is something also worth remembering.

Saturday, 6 April 2013

The Failure of the Secular Dream

Back in the 1960s, Harvey Cox, an American Theologian published "The Secular City: Secularization and Urbanization in Theological Perspective". There were a number of books all talking about "The Death of God". It seemed at the time, and certainly also in the 1970s and 1980s, that science was on the advance, and religion was in serious decline. This was, after all, the "white heat of the technological revolution" to use Harold Wilson's phrase.
 
The prediction was that belief in God would decline, and certainly would give way to science, especially in the field of the evolution, and the geological history of the planet. All the froth of the secular society was stirred up in John Robinson's "Honest to God" in which the Bishop criticised infantile notions of a "God above" and heaven as skyward. As it is now quite a well-known sociological phenomenon that adults tend to retain infantile beliefs in God, and then discard those as outgrown, this had quite a liberating impact. What it did not address, however, was whether there were pathways to a more mature religious belief available, and this was to have effects later on in the backlash against the secular dream.
 
For science is not one uniform matter. It is quite easy to have branches of science that never seem to clash with religious beliefs, such as chemistry or physics. And it is quite easy to have compartmentalised beliefs. So someone can believe in a literal Adam and Eve and at the same time, understand and apply modern medicine. This ability to think in compartments was something that the thinkers about secular society simply didn't understand. The theologian Rudolf Bultmann notably claimed that people who switch on electric light bulbs and who listen to radios would find it hard to believe in miracles and in spirits. This was at the heart of the secular thesis, and it proved to be completely fallacious.
 
It was also unclear how much underpinning the development of human rights had in the Judeo-Christian background, and whether it could survive coherently without that. What is the justification for human rights? That meant that philosophers had to be involved in the debate, as for example with John Rawls' Theory of Justice.
 
By the year 2000, however, the religious landscape had changed in very different ways from those predicted in the 1960s. Far from declining, Islamic and Christian fundamentalisms were on the rise. Legal challenges about evolution in schools were being mounted in America. And in 2001, the Islamic radicals moved into action with devastating effect, leading to a response from America in which President George W Bush spoke of the war on terrorism as a "Crusade", a term replete with religious overtones.
 
In Europe, however, Christian fundamentalism remained small scale, and the trend was towards the "New Age" - partly a religious phenomena which preferred the term "spiritual" but also a part of consumer culture with "Mind Body and Spirit" events and products. The revival of Paganism, such as Wicca or Druidry had been around for some time, but it also saw a remarkable upsurge of interest. The expansion of the shelves on these subjects in bookshops was a good indicator of its popularity. It was no longer marginal.
 
Often this appeal was to people who had discarded infantile notions of Christianity, and found the purely secular world had too little to offer to their needs.
 
The counterpoint was the rise of a militant form of atheism, most notable in the writings of AC Grayling, Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens and Sam Harris. These writers beat the drum for rationality without ever coming to terms with the fact that what people believe is very often not rational.
 
Many people believe in the existence of ghosts, for example, without ever placing them in a particular coherent framework of belief; it is what one might call folk-belief, or preternatural belief. When more formal frameworks of belief may be jettisoned, folk-belief invariably remains, and all the arguments in the world by the "new atheists" make no difference. A surprisingly large number of people have what militant atheists term superstitions, but are better described by the more neutral term of "folk belief".
 
In Europe, however, a considerable degree of secularisation still prevails, although moderated by folk-belief. In America, fundamentalist Christianity is more prevalent than ever; it is unlikely that an openly atheist President would ever be elected.
 
But the situation with Islam is more alarming. Recent activity by militants in Bangladesh has calls for the death penalty to be pronounced against atheists who speak out, because in criticising Islam and its prophet, they are committing blasphemy. It is not a category that would today get much time in the courts, either of Europe or the United States, but it is one, which is increasingly dominant in nations where Islam is dominant.
 
Protesters in a recent rally in Bangladesh chanted, "God is great, hang the atheist bloggers". This was a rally of around 100,000 which is certainly a high figure, although small in the overall country population. But these are militant activists, and quite capable of taking the law into their own hands if the state does not do so.
 
What of the future? In Britain, at any rate, a degree of secular society will remain, with militant atheism fighting a rearguard action. Richard Dawkin's "Enemies of Reason" is a near perfect example of an inability to really engage with folk-beliefs rather than firing of salvoes at people who engage in dowsing, astrology, fortune telling, homeopathy and the like.
 
Churches which offer more fundamentalist approaches, and hence more intolerance, will actually attract members because they can sound the note of certainty in an age of uncertainty. But they will also provide New Age holistic style worship with a strong touchy-feely emotional core, such as New Wine. Emotional fulfilment and fundamentalist Christianity can be very appealing, even if it can be a toxic combination.
 
New Age and folk-beliefs will remain at the heart of today's society with crystals, tarot cards, etc. This is unlikely to diminish as folk-belief has never gone away, but in the absence of more formal outlets of religious practice, this has been expanding to fill the gap.
 
Modern forms of Paganism are not evangelistic, and sometimes face prejudices, but they will continue to grow at a steady rate. Interestingly, there is a trend of teenagers taking an interest in Neopaganism and then mostly discarding it, rather like teenagers who have experienced a Christian conversion. At its heart, Neopaganism requires discipline and knowledge for rituals, and those who dabble on the fringes at one time or another often lose interest; it is for the committed as much as Christianity.
 
For many people, Christianity will remain for rites of passage - baptism of children, marriage in church, funeral services, as it can provide a structure which has not been replicated by humanists. But church attendance is probably becoming something of a minority practice for those committed, in its more traditional forms.
 
But the ideal of an increasingly secular society, as envisaged in the 1960s, and seen as the direction of progress, has shown itself as an illusion. The older notions of history, still vestigial in the 1970s, saw a progress in technology, and a discarding of non-scientific beliefs. But history has no direction, and the secular dream has failed; it is just as likely that religious extremism and fundamentalism will become more militant over the next decade.

On the Edge

A very windy day out at Grosnez Castle was the inspiration for this Saturday poem:

On the Edge

On Grosnez Castle, a cold wind blows
And on the edge, you stand, my dear
Framed in the archway, there you pose
So close to the edge, the cliffs so near

The granite rocks, now ruined stones
All that is left, the proud stronghold
The cold wind freezes to the bones
And you stand there, so very bold

Once sounded out the clarion call
Invasion meant seek refuge here
Stone fortress, where sheer cliffs fall
But on the edge, you stand, no fear

The North Wind blowing across the bay
And you stand there, far above the spray

Friday, 5 April 2013

Funny Old World

Important note: the usual caveat - this is a spoof posting, and nothing here is genuine. It is satire, not fact.
 
The Referendum Line
 
A new railway is coming to Jersey - the Referendum line. But there are several operators all wanting to take over the operation. Bids will be taking place later this month. The public will have a say. Here are the different options available:
 
Option A - The Hi-Speed Modern Train which is going places fast, but unfortunately may have to tear through some of the countryside to do so. But if the railways are to survive, they must modernise, and if it means cutting a swathe through historic landscape and beauty spots, so be it, say the promoters.
 
The train hasn't yet got a name, but the Mezec Express is a favourite. It would leave at Crowcroft Central, passing rapidly by Tadier Halt on its way out to St John's where it would come to a shuddering halt at Pitman's Folly. Passengers can alight there and watch the rather noisy Trevor the Traction Engine going through its paces and letting off steam.
 
Option B - This runs diesel trains out to the branch lines, and from there the much smaller steam locomotives take over. You can imagine it. The rural landscape, the train chugging along, the plume of white smoke. It's like a scene out of Constable.
 
The late John Betjeman has written a poem about the rural lines, which is in his collection "The Slow Train to Trinity":
 
Constable's country, along the tracks
The scenery not reduced to barest facts
How can one count the hidden cost
Of this heritage, of what would be lost?
Oh, let it not be lost, and let us pray
Lest tracks be all broken up this way!
 
This goes along the Shenton line out into the countryside, where James the Steam Engine takes over, ending at Rondel's End, a distant part of the Island which is, as yet, sadly bereft of main drains.
 
It has been suggested that a mixed line contravenes the ECHR - European Controller of High-speed Railways. This has not been tested in the courts however. The Option A camp are of the opinion that the steam trains should be removed from the main network and operated on a voluntary basis, or paid for by Parishioners if they want to keep the service.
 
Option C - this is the current system. It has an Island wide network of high-speed trains driven by high powered Ferguson engines, slower diesel trains in the Parishes, and each Parish also has its own steam locomotive. The whole network is called the Lyndon Line.
 
The Referendum is to determine which kind of train will be most suitable for the Island's future, and was presided over by Sir Philip Beeching, a former ICI magnate from Axe Minster, brought in by the Government..
 
Meanwhile all groups say that lower passenger numbers on the lines should not effect the result. This is because they have heard young railway spotter Jeremy Macon, who says that he has been counting trains to make sure they are full enough, and he doesn't think they are.
 
Other breaking news stories.
 
Hot air? Treasury Minister unveils a model for affordable homes. Constructed from lightweight Airfix, these will be within the reach of more family budgets. Critics say there is not enough glue to fix them together.
 
I-Spy: Did Sir Philip Beeching breach official secrets on a plane? And was it Airfix? Or just a fix? Blogger Rico Columbo reveals all. "That's just one more thing, sir".
 
Met office report. More bad whether on the way. Critics say there is too much dithering about in the States of Jersey - whether to do this, or that!
 
The Bare Truth. A blog about the lack of transparency in Jersey by a naked Blogger with a loud voice.
 
JEP political columnist Lucy Stephenson reveals States member's preferences for biscuits and sweets, and finds several cream éclairs, sherbet lemons, and jammy dodgers among the members.

Thursday, 4 April 2013

Optional Matters

Apologies to Sam Mezec for misrepresenting him on my blog and in the JEP. Unfortunately the letter went out before I had the comments on my blog. Sam says "I have never said that Constables either will or will not be paid. I have always said that it will be up to each Parish on a case by case basis. That's the wonderful thing about the Parish system. If a Constable says he/ she doesn't want to be paid, then he/ she won't be. If one says that he/ she will need to be paid, then the Parishioners will have to decide and they are within their rights to go to Parish Assemblies and have their say and vote against it. Democracy!"

But that doesn't answer my other point: if there are two candidates, one who has private means and says he doesn't want to be paid, and one who says he would need to be, you are back in the situation where lack of means disenfranchises one individual. Like the old days when the States were not paid. Is it right that someone can effectively "bribe" the electorate by saying they don't need to be paid; they have enough independent wealth? Is that Sam's idea of democracy?

Incidentally, the JEP only put part of my letter online; I'd refer to my blog posting if you want a more detailed argument and do not have a JEP.
http://tonymusings.blogspot.com/2013/03/blissful-ignorance.html  

The JEP does make this clear "The full version of this letter has been published in Tuesday's Jersey Evening Post".

On Facebook I read: "I want the constables to sit in the states as I believe that it is one of the main reasons why many of them stood in the first place.. I wouldn't want a constable who couldn't be bothered to sit in the states and fight his/hers parish's corner.. I don't want them having to go cap in hand to a district deputy who lives in another parish to beg for a vote in the states that affects their own parish..."

Sam Mezec commented on this "The other day the States spent a couple of hours debating a wall being moved at Green Island. Why does the Deputy of St Ouen (for example) have a right to debate something that only affects the people that live near Green Island? Surely that is something that should be dealt with in the Parish, not the States. Parish issues should be pushed out of the States and into the Parishes. When that is done, you won't need Parish representation in the States, only island representation."

But does it? Some of the arguments revolved around sea defenses, which should be a concern to all islanders, not just those in St Clement. is that a principle we should endorse, or a one off exception? For those concerned with climate change, it is more than just a Parish matter. In another example, Guy de Faye, as Planning Minister signed an order allowing a developer to force landowners to have utility companies dig through their properties. This was only in one Parish, but it had an island effect.

Another problem raised on Facebook is as follows: "But say for example a decision was being made on where to site some new development which presumably would be debated in the states. Under option A there could in theory be parishes with no representation from anyone living in that parish which would put them at a disadvantage."

Sam Mezec's response is that "If that Parish had a real problem with that development being in their Parish, they could call a Parish Assembly and all 7 of their districts Deputies (whether they lived in the Parish or not) would attend and have to fight that Parishes corner." Would they indeed?

Let us suppose the Deputies are elected in the constituency which includes St Mary, St Lawrence, St John and St Ouen. None of them live in St Mary, and all have previous ties to the other Parishes. That's not unlikely, as St Mary obviously has the smallest portion of the total vote. A development is planned in St Mary. Why on earth should the Deputies decide to fight the corner of St Mary? They may think it is a good thing; that it is time St Mary took on its share of development. There is no reason why they would have to either turn up to a Parish assembly in St Mary (where is any legal basis for their having to attend?) or fight St Mary's corner. I can't see that this statement of Sam's is anything but a kind of special pleading.

Sam also makes this statement about a bias in the Island plan: "For example, the Island Plan to a large degree limits development to St Helier. The Island Plan was able to get through because of the support of country Deputies and Constables, who were limiting developments to places that they don't represent. St Helier's 1 Constable would not be able to outvote the countries 8 Constables, even though St Helier's population is greater than all of them combined."

One of the main reasons behind the Island plan is to protect the green spaces where land is farmed. There is precious little of that in St Helier - there is no longer a spring running through Springfield -  and the move of older offices to the Esplanade has also left parts of St Helier ripe for a return from old houses converted to offices back into dwellings or replaced by modern dwellings. As it is, and as Mark Forskitt will explain, Jersey is not in any way self-sufficient in terms of own food production; we are dependent on supply lines, which can be costly and fragile. To remove the green zones would be to make the situation even worse.

Sam also says that "There should never have been a referendum in the first place. 10 years ago the States should have just adopted the Clothier recommendations and we wouldn't be in this mess." But while Clothier did favour one class of States member, and no Constables he did not want super-constituencies, he wanted to keep the Parish base. Option A doesn't do this.

And as Bob le Sueur pointed out, instead of voting for at least (back then) 6 Senators, 1 Constable and at least one Deputy, many Parishes would be down to just two or three to vote in. From 8 to 3 was a considerable reduction in choice, but Clothier assumed that a Party system would arise, no doubt because his main experience was the UK model of government. It was (as a friend told me) a form of "cultural imperialism", imposing another system on the local one as if it was somehow universally true.

Sam also says: "It is an inalienable human right that all people are free to take part in fair elections. Option B is an unfair system. If it wins, it will be thrown out by the human rights court or the UK. It matters diddly squat that the public voted for it."

So why has no one done anything about the current system which is also deemed to be an unfair system? Sam says it is because over 15 years, reform was in the air, and it would cost less! Given the failure of past proposals on reform, this seems to verge on extreme optimism.

15 years and all the failures would suggest that something should have been done ages ago; to raise the matter now seems more like electioneering spin, but we shall see. I can imagine the discussions which took place. "Shall we mount a legal challenge"? "No, there'll be another proposition for Reform in two years time, let's wait", "Well that was a missed opportunity, shall we now mount a legal challenge?" "No, there'll be another proposition for Reform in two years time"  etc etc. Talk about procrastination being the thief of time!

And Deputy Tadier tells me "A challenge in itself, whether successful or not, is not the kind of publicity Jersey should be seeking". But if it is right to challenge the status quo because it is unjust, should we let reputational damage be the final arbiter? I might expect that from former Senator Frank Walker; I'm surprised that Monty is making that argument. Maybe he should have a word with Sam!

So Option B will be challenged, Option C may be challenged - if the Referendum doesn't deliver Option A, but it has taken up to now (over 15 years) for any legal action to be proposed. People may go to their voting stations and have their say and vote against Option A. According to Sam, when Parishioners vote this way - "that's democracy!" - but when it is a Referendum, it is not. At this point, the A Team usually mentions that if a majority votes to outlaw red-heads or left-handed people, that would not be democratic, which is a typical straw man argument.

I'm not sure that having done nothing until now, it is a good strategy to threaten voters to vote for Option A or else! But that is the message coming across loud and clear. Personally, if I vote against Option A, at least one reason would be that I do not like being threatened. It strikes me as the sort of antics "Yes Minister" might describe as those of a "political thug". It is like saying "Vote A, because we have a loaded revolver waiting to be fired if Option B or C win."

I also look forward to the legal challenge, but perhaps we can have a few lawyer's advice (there must be some in Option A) on its likelihood of success. A legal opinion or two would do wonders for the credibility of this challenge. A lack of legal opinions does not inspire confidence.

Option C retains the Senators, and people like the Island Wide Mandate. Linda Corby said that "Everyone sitting in the States should be voted in by and island wide vote in my opinion, because they all vote on island wide issues." I've heard that proposal from a number of people, and it was turned down as unworkable by the Commission on the basis that (1) voting for that many people would be beyond the capability of the average voter (2) the hustings would be unworkable.

But is it quite as unrealistic as we are led to assume? The notion that you can't make choices of a large subset - say 30 Senators - is an assumption. It is not something which, as far as I can tell, has been demonstrated. There is something called "information overload" with regard to choices of products, but products are not people. If anyone has any experimental evidence relating to voting, it would be interesting to see it, but I have been unable to unearth any studies. Whether you can extrapolate from information overload on food packages or medical marketing to how people react when electing other people to represent them is questionable, but that seems to have been the first assumption made.

And the hustings might well be unworkable in their present form, but need we keep than form? In 1948, when 12 senators were all elected in one election - the first Senatorial election - the rounds of parish meetings which preceded the voting differed from modern elections in not having all the candidates present or speaking at each parish. If selected by lots for Parishes, people could attend the hustings they wanted to, and more time would be available for presentations and questions. In fact, hustings provide a very poor indicator today of electoral success; the main effect they have is to provide an opportunity for reporting in the media, which can of course be selective; it has to be, two hours has to be condensed into a few column inches, or one page of a website.

I'm not saying I'd promote that as an option, but I am saying that perhaps the assumptions made excluding those submissions calling for an Island wide mandate and Constables is not as impossible as it first appears. It may have been too swiftly dismissed.

Wednesday, 3 April 2013

The Legal Challenge

Much is being made of Option B as not being "human rights compliant", and that if it is passed, even if this is what the majority of Islanders want, this will be challenged legally by Option A supporters.
 
I would find it very strange that human rights compliance should not have been considered by the Electoral Commission, especially by Dr Alan Renwick of the University of Reading. I have been told informally that at least one of the people involved thinks it highly unlikely that any such challenge would succeed.
 
But nonetheless, there is a deficiency in that the consideration of European human rights compliance of Option B is not explicitly stated, which provides a hole through which Option A supporters can drive a coach and horses. It shows that the Electoral Commission failed to address at least one question, and it is unlikely that any literature that comes from them now will address that question.
 
Part of the problem lies in the fact that an interim report was published, but without stating any form of questions, and when the final report came out, that was an end to the Commission's deliberations; no submissions were available on that which might have raised that issue, and had it resolved.
 
The result is a kind of political limbo, where Option A supporters make statements of varying certainty ranging from "almost certainly not human rights compliant" to "absolutely not human rights compliant". The spectre of Sark is raised, with the British government intervention flagged up as a possibility.
 
However, while there have been legal challenges in Sark, not all of them have succeeded. In 1988, a challenge was mounted against the sweeping reforms from a feudal electoral system to a more modern one by the Barclay Brothers, who felt it did not go far enough.
 
Lord Collins surveyed the ECtHR case law on A3P1, particularly Mathieu-Mohin v Belgium (1988) 10 EHRR 1 and Yumak v Turkey (2009) 48 EHRR 61, concluding that there was "no narrow focus on one particular element of democracy".
 
"Whilst the Seigneur and Seneschal were members of the legislature, it was clear from the case law that A3P1 did not require all members of the legislature to be elected, even where the legislature was unicameral.  All the circumstances needed to be taken into account.  A3P1's purpose was to ensure that legislation was enacted through genuinely democratic processes, and that was the case here: neither the Seigneur nor the Seneschal could vote.  The fact that the Seigneur could speak on matters of substance in debate (and therefore influence the outcome of debate) was 'not undemocratic, especially where the influence is open and transparent'"
 
It is interesting to look at this case in detail, because it shows considerable flexibility in how the Courts interpreted the application of human rights law, especially regarding the need to take "into account historical and political factors".
 
When change came in 2010 and the role of the Seneschal as both judge and president was split, it came about through a vote from within Chief Pleas of 20 out of 25 members, and this followed from a criticism of the dual role made by the Court of Appeal in 2008. This was on the dual role, not the fact that the Seneschal was unelected, and no such criticism was made of the Seigneur.
 
Given the role of the Constables in the States of Jersey, and the fact that no challenge has ever been made against the current position for being non-compliant with human rights, it will be interesting to see if Option A succeed in any challenge. Of course, a lot will depend on the turnout, and the margin of victory. But if there was a high turnout of 40%, and a high margin for Option B, I suspect their chances of overturning it in the Courts would be slim.
 
A question that would undoubtably spring to mind would be why no challenge to the existing system had ever been mounted, when it is clear that the same arguments would apply as much to the status quo.
 
While it might be argued that Option B makes representation worse if all members are treated as one kind of member (which in fact they are not), Option C, or the status quo also has problems with representation, not least with the Parish of St Mary. Why has it taken until now for a threat of a challenge to systems be made by Option A?

Have they just suddenly "seen the light", and if the system reverts to Option C, the status quo, will they also be mounting a challenge against that too? Or is the rhetoric purely a "spoiler" to drive people from B to A, sending out a message that a vote for B will be a wasted vote?
 
Links
(1) http://ukscblog.com/case-comment-r-barclay-v-secretary-of-state-for-justice-and-others-2009-uksc-9
(2) http://www.guernseylegalresources.gg/ccm/legal-resources/law-reports/Cases/GLR2009/GLR090314.htm

Tuesday, 2 April 2013

Rubbish Arguments for Option A

Before I mention this, I will say that I know a number of Option A supporters who think centralising refuse collection would be a very bad idea. But I heard it given as one of the reasons why the Parish system is wrong, and the Constables need to come out of the States.

This was a professional individual who told me his friends and fellow professionals all share the same view. And Nick Le Cornu also complains about twelve rubbish collection services from each Parish as if it is something bad, which Option A will do away with.

The complaint is: why are there different refuse collectors in different Parishes?

As this is in any case largely "invisible" to the end user, I think this is grasping at straws. I'm not convinced that "economies of scale" always work. By shopping around, and with some Parishes with larger needs than others (because of population), it is possible to get a "best fit" with lowest price for one Parish, and "best fit" for one is not best fit for all. So I don't think that's a good argument at all.

Let us look at this in more detail.

The Parish is responsible for refuse collection. As a general rule this is done by entering into contract for at least a 3-5 year period after which it is open to tender. The one exception is St. Helier, where due to its size it operates its own service.

So, first each parish does 'shop around' for best tender. But Parishes may not accept the lowest tender. This is for two reasons. The first is that if the lowest tender came in from a company that had only just started refuse collection services, it might be considered untried and therefore untested; second is what we might call "the knowledge" . As with taxi drivers, it is important that those supplying a service can locate the properties; just setting up in business is not a guarantee of that fact.

Perhaps more important here too is that it is NOT the Constable who deals with the issue of tender. That is in the first instance drawn up by the Parish Secretary and deliberations are thereafter conducted by the Procurers who make the recommendation to go with one service or another - the contract being signed on behalf of the Parish by the Constable. This is another example of general ignorance in how a Parish works.

Another point is equipment. Different parishes have a need for deploying different equipment. For example, St. Clement have a number of high-rise and community collection points needing specialised equipment to remove the rubbish - whereas say St. Ouen has a myriad of small lanes and isolated properties where an altogether smaller vehicle is required. Then there are collection patterns to consider. So it is much more complex that it might appear to be. Each parish tenders to the most appropriate operators for their needs.

One size fits all, as anyone who has had the misfortune to buy some item of clothing that does not fit knows, is rarely true. The same is true of refuse collection. The argument that a centralised States run department would do better is a chimera, and as I say, I know some strong and intelligent supporters of Option A who agree with that, and think that the States running refuse collection would probably be an expensive disaster costing much more to the taxpayer than the present system of different tenders. As Sam Mezec says: "Having a local administration is an effective and cost efficient way of delivering services at the lowest level possible to the people."

So by all means keep the arguments for demographic deficit for option A, but let's drop the argument about refuse collection. It is rubbish.

Monday, 1 April 2013

Fishy Business

As the sun was rising, Jesus stood at the water's edge, but the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Then he asked them, "Young men, haven't you caught anything?" "Not a thing," they answered. He said to them, "Throw your net out on the right side of the boat, and you will catch some." So they threw the net out and could not pull it back in, because they had caught so many fish. The disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, "It is the Lord!" When Peter heard that it was the Lord, he wrapped his outer garment around him (for he had taken his clothes off ) and jumped into the water. The other disciples came to shore in the boat, pulling the net full of fish. They were not very far from land, about a hundred yards away. When they stepped ashore, they saw a charcoal fire there with fish on it and some bread. Then Jesus said to them, "Bring some of the fish you have just caught." Simon Peter went aboard and dragged the net ashore full of big fish, a hundred and fifty-three in all; even though there were so many, still the net did not tear. Jesus said to them, "Come and eat." None of the disciples dared ask him, "Who are you?" because they knew it was the Lord. So Jesus went over, took the bread, and gave it to them; he did the same with the fish. (John 21:4-13)

While they still could not believe it for joy and were full of amazement, he said to them, "Do you have anything here to eat?" They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate it in their presence. (Luke 24:41-43)

One of the strangest things about the New Testament is the presence of so much fish, but the absence of any details about what the fish looked like. Aristotle (384 BC - 322 BC) advanced the study of fish - ichthyology - making it into a formal scientific study. Between 335 BC-322 BC, he provided the earliest classification of different kinds of fish; he accurately describes 117 species of Mediterranean fish, and distinguished between aquatic mammals and fish. But the New Testament tells us nothing about the fish caught in the Sea of Galilee.

Was it the fish known as St Peter's Fish?

The St. Peter's fish owes it's name to its main characteristic, a clearly visible spot behind the gills. According to legend, over 2000 years ago, St. Peter dropped a coin into the Sea of Galilee and the fish caught it. St Peter picked the fish up and took the coin back, leaving his fingerprints on the skin of the fish. St. Peter's fish can grow to a maximum length of 70 cm and sometimes reach a weight of 8 kg.  It has no scales on its coarse, silver to golden-brown skin. It rarely uses his fins, but would much rather place itself on its side and drift, especially when hunting young flatfish. (1)

Probably not:

Saint-Pierre, San-Pierre, Jean Doré, Pèis de Noste Segne - John Dory, Gallocristo, Doree,  Atlantic John Dory, St Peter's fish.  Saint Pierre, Saint Peter's fish, on French menus, is a firm, tasty, white-fleshed sea fish, and one of the most popular fish in France. Unfortunately, for this particular tradition's creator the real St Peter, the fisherman, was a fresh water-fisherman and the John Dory is a salt-water fish. (2)

Indeed, what is forgotten is that the Sea of Galilee, despite its name, is in fact Israel's largest freshwater lake. It was until recent overfishing very prolific for fishing. The 19th century English clergyman, Henry Baker Tristram, recorded that "the density of the shoals of fish in the Sea of Galilee can scarcely be conceived by those who have not witnessed them".

But what species are found there? More than you might imagine.

The Sea of Galilee has been renowned for its fish from ancient times. There are 18 different species that are indigenous to the lake. They are classified locally into three main groups: sardines, biny and musht. Sardines are endemic to the lake. Today at the height of the fishing season tens of tons of sardines are caught every night. Biny fish consist of three species of the carp family. Because they are -well fleshed- they are very popular at feasts and for Sabbath. Musht means -comb.- These are large fish, some of which are 16 inches long and weigh 2 pounds. (3)

The sardines were a staple of the locals' diet and these were probably the "two small "fish" which Jesus used to feed the multitude. The musht fish has a long dorsal fin that resembles a comb and is today popularly known as "St. Peter's fish." This tasty fish could measure up to 0.5 m (18 in) and weigh 1.5 kg (3.3 lb). The third type is the catfish, which is not considered kosher because of its lack of scales. These probably would have been brought to mind when Jesus referred to the bad fish that would be thrown away (4).

So there are in fact two fish species which have the name "St Peter's Fish", one seawater, in French recipes, and one indigenous freshwater species.

On cooking fish, modern translations just have Jesus ask for some cooked fish; the King James version, however, has "broiled fish". This is also present in the earlier translations. Tyndale has "And they gave him a pece of a broyled fisshe and of an hony combe. (Luke 24:42)" But Wycliffe has "And thei proferden hym a part of a fisch rostid, and an hony combe. "(Luke 24:42); his fish is roasted not broiled.

But how do you "broil" fish? Mrs Beeton mentions "Broiled fish, such as mackerel, whiting, herrings, dried haddocks, &c" but does not have a recipe. Britannica says "broiling,  cooking by exposing food to direct radiant heat, either on a grill over live coals or below a gas burner or electric coil. Broiling differs from roasting and baking in that the food is turned during the process so as to cook one side at a time."

So basically, it is the same as what in Britain is called grilling. America keeps the older more archaic term, and still refers to "broiling".

Patrick Perry, in an article on fish recipes has this for "broiled fish" (from The Saturday Evening Post, 1992, an American publication not to be confused with our own Jersey Evening Post)

Broiled Fish with Three Peppers
(Makes 4 servings)
1 1/2 pounds fresh or frozen fish fillets or steaks 2 tablespoons light olive oil 2 tablespoons additional oil 1 small green pepper, cut into thinly sliced strips 1 small red pepper, cut into thinly sliced strips 1 small yellow or orange pepper, cut into thinly sliced strips 1/2 pound thickly sliced fresh mushrooms 1/2 tablespoon freshly chopped basil(or 1 teaspoon dried) 1 small jalapeno pepper, finely minced (seeds removed) Salt (optional) and pepper to taste

Preheat broiler. Rinse fish under cold water. Pat very dry. Brush lightly with olive oil. Season to taste. Broil fish 4-5 inches from heat source 6-12 minutes per inch thickness until fish is just opaque throughout.

While fish is broiling, heat additional oil in a large sauté pan over medium-high heat. Add remaining ingredients to pan. Thoroughly blend and stir 3-4 minutes until vegetables are heated through, but still firm in texture.
Portion fish on individual warm plates. Top each portion with sautéed vegetable mixture. Serve immediately.
Per Serving (5-6 oz. fish + 3/4-1 cup sauce): Calories: 313 Sodium: 137 mg Protein: 35.1 gm Cholesterol: 98 mgFat: 15.8 gm Carbohydrate: 8.8 gm

Links
(1) http://www.nordsee.com/en/themen/210/St.%20Peter%E2%80%99s%20fish%20(John%20Dory)
(2) http://behind-the-french-menu.blogspot.com/2012/06/searching-for-the-most-popular-fish-in.html
(3) http://www.americancatholic.org/newsletters/sfs/an0704.asp
(4) http://www.biblearchaeology.org/post/2009/03/Jesus-and-the-Sea-of-Galilee.aspx#Article
(5) http://bbq.about.com/cs/cookingtips/a/aa112302a.htm

Sunday, 31 March 2013

Eastertide

Off in 30 minutes to the very early Easter service in the Rectory field. A bonfire is lit, and the Easter candle lit from that and taken to the Fisherman's Chapel. This poem is about Easter there...
 
Eastertide
 
Emptiness, bare altars, a sense of loss
A cold wind across a bleak landscape
So heavy laden, our heartfelt cross
But something new is taking shape
 
Gathering in the field, come to pray
And shivering through the icy start
Mary in despair, came along this way
Weeping, crying, of broken heart
 
The bonfire lit, the slightest flame
But soon the fire begins to burn
And there is gladness that we came
And every year we will return
 
The breaking dawn, the bread and wine
And once again, see the glory shine

Saturday, 30 March 2013

The Void

While Good Friday sees Lent Lunches, and the final services before Easter, the Saturday before Easter day is a void. It is like treading water, with nothing happening, being in limbo, as in a vast echoing void. That's something of what I try to capture in this poem.

The Void
 
Emptiness, bare altars, a sense of loss
Yesterday, Good Friday, words to part
But now, blooded and empty cross
The abyss opening at the heart
 
Lives of quiet despair, lives of fear
A void opening up, a time to fall
When will it end? Time draws near
And silence reigns, no word or call
 
The bitter cold of the tomb today
Freezing winds across the land
The stone heavy, a guarded way
Only memory of the nailed hand
 
In between the dark and the light
This is Holy Saturday, our plight

Friday, 29 March 2013

Hot Cross Buns

Hot Cross Buns are now sold almost since Christmas ends, which I think is a shame, but traditionally Good Friday was  the day to bake and eat them. They were reminders of Christ's death upon the Cross, and an ending of Lent.

The traditional rhyme goes:

One a penny, two a penny,
Hot cross buns!
If your daughters do not like them
Give them to your sons;
But if you haven't any of these pretty little elves
You cannot do better than eat them yourselves.

The Oxford Dictionary of Nursery Rhymes notes that:

This was formerly a street cry, as mentioned, for instance, in Poor Robin'sAlmanack for 1733:

Good Friday comes this month, the old woman runs
With one or two a penny hot cross buns.

Hence it became a calendar folk-chant, customarily sung by children on Good Friday, when the hot cross buns are eaten for breakfast. The song is now remembered in the nursery throughout the year, and often accompanies the game in which the hands are placed flat in a pile, and the lowest removed and placed on the top, and so on.

Here is a recipe from San Francisco Baker Fran Gage, for hot cross buns with fresh orange fragrance and spice overtones. You'll need to prepare the fresh candied orange a few days before baking.

Hot Cross Buns

3/4 cup candied orange (recipe follows)
1 package active dry yeast
1/4 cup warm water (about 110 |degrees~)
3 1/2 to 4 cups all-purpose flour
1/3 cup granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon each ground nutmeg and cloves
3/4 cup milk
1 large egg
1/4 cup (1/8 lb.) butter or margarine, melted and cooled
1/3 cup dried currants or raisins

Cross toppings

Prepare candied orange 24 hours to 2 weeks ahead according to recipe instructions, following.

In large bowl of an electric mixer with a dough hook attachment, or in another bowl, sprinkle yeast over water; let stand until softened, about 5 minutes.

In another bowl, combine 3 1/2 cups flour, granulated sugar, salt, nutmeg, and cloves; set aside.

To yeast mixture, add milk, egg, and butter. Gradually add 2 cups of the flour mixture. Beat with a mixer until stretchy, or by hand with a heavy spoon until dough is thoroughly moistened and stretchy, about 5 minutes.

To knead with a dough hook. Add 1 more cup of the flour mixture, and mix on low speed until incorporated; then beat on high speed about 5 minutes. Add remainin flour mixture, candied orange, and currants. Mix on low speed until fruits are worked into dough, about 2 minutes (use a rubber spatula to mix fruit into doug if necessary). Remove hook; leave dough in bowl.

To knead by hand. Before kneading, add remaining flour mixture, candied orange, and currants to bowl; stir until dough is evenly moistened. Scrape dough onto a floured board; coat lightly with flour. Knead until smooth and elastic, adding just enough flour to prevent sticking, about 8 minutes. Return dough to bowl.

After kneading, cover with plastic wrap. Let rise in a warm place until doubled about 2 hours.

Punch down dough; spoon onto a floured board. Add flour as needed to knead doug into a soft rectangle. Cut in half lengthwise, then cut each rectangle into 6 pieces. Roll each piece into a ball, pulling dough to bottom to form a smooth top. Place on 2 lightly oiled baking sheets (each 12-by 15-in.). Loosely cover with plastic wrap; let rise in a warm place until puffy, about 30 minutes.

Bake in a 400 |degrees~ oven until buns are browned and hollow-sounding when tapped on bottom, about 20 minutes (switch pan positions halfway through baking). Cool on a wire rack. When just warm to touch, cross each bun with desired topping (directions follow). Serve warm or cool.

Thursday, 28 March 2013

Blissful ignorance

I am still awaiting the A-Team's detailed study of how the Constables fit into their system. Sam Mezec seems to think that they will have a purely honorary capacity. Simon Crowcroft, who is after all in a better position to know, says that in that case they would certainly need to fund a Chief Executive for St Helier if they did not want to pay the Constable - in other words, there will be a cost element to ratepayers.

I do wonder how blissfully ignorant most people in the A-Team are in relation to Parish affairs; perhaps some more blog posting from Simon could help. He may even decide to retract what he told me at the Town Hall about the need for a paid position; after all, he has changed his mind once. To change it twice, however, reminds me of something Oscar Wilde once said.

In the A team scenario several assumptions have been made, all of which are false; based more on perception than fact. In 2010, Senator Sarah Ferguson did an analysis of the St. Brelade Parish Accounts. Given that the parish is the fourth largest, the figures are quite modest relative to the services and functions the Parish affords to its parishioners.

This analysis was published in La Baguette, and here is an extract:

"Former St. Brelade Deputy, and Public Accounts Committee Chairman Senator Sarah Ferguson explains. There is a considerable amount of detail in the accounts but they are clear and enable all rate payers to understand exactly where their money is spent. They are prepared on a very straightforward basis. Income is mainly recorded when it is actually received - in other words when cheques or cash are in the hands of the Parish Secretary. There are a few exceptions where money owing is recognised as income."

"Expenditure on the other hand is on the accruals basis. This means that all money owed by the Parish is always included in the accounts whether it has been paid or whether it is still owed by the Parish. Because of this the accounts always show the pure unvarnished truth of the state of the affairs of the Parish. In fact the balances in the accounts represent money in the bank."

"The main source of income for the Parish is the rates. The two crucial parts of the rates meeting are the estimates of the expenses for the following year and the decision on the Parish rates. If the forecasts of expenses are too low then the rates could be too low and the Parish would have to levy an additional rate, which would not go down well with Parishioners. If however the expenses are set too high then the Parish would have to set too high a rate which would also upset the Parishioners. Fortunately the Parish has an experienced team who make sensible forecasts."

It is notable too in that article there was mentioned just one dissenter to the rate proposed. That was Deputy Montford Tadier who wanted to increase the rate from 0.87p per quarter to 0.90p per quarter. And he is an A-Team supporter.

While it may be argued that there were (and still are) items seeking funding, it also needs to be remembered that the rates have a direct impact on all households. The prudent stance is therefore to raise the rates as little as possible and look toward other funding sources for non-urgent projects. It needs noting too that Maison St. Brelade as a singular and most urgent expense, had been financed from various sources - not just the Parish.

Income for that year [2010] totalled just under £1.3m, the majority of which was derived from rates. Of that the bulk of expenditure was spent on two items, services and administration. The running of the Parish Hall plus staff wages amounted £469,850  - or roughly one-third of total income.

It can be clearly seen therefore that that if the cost through salary to a Constable at the same level they enjoy by being a States member were part of the St. Brelade equation, the impact on expenditure would be significant - approximately 10% rise. Alternatively, if a Chief Executive was appointed, that would also cost at least the same.

There would also be several hidden costs too.

At times of deputation (such as illness, holiday, funerals etc) whereas at present the Procurer(s) or Chef de Police might temporarily fulfil some of the functions of Connétable. It is clearly far less acceptable that these be provided on a honorary basis if the Connétable himself were drawing a salary from the parish.

It could be further argued that anyone currently deployed in a honorary position may equally take the view that they should also be paid. As it stands, honorary police officers do get a small honorarium but that forms part of the overall policing budget (a separate item) not an administration cost.

The Connétable is not an administrator like the Parish Secretary, but option A pre-supposes that they are and to some extent seeks to re-define their role. They also suggest that there are many people who would 'like' to be Connétable but don't stand because it brings with it a seat in the House with which of course comes a £40k+ per annum salary which presumably they would be happy to give up!

Even supposing that were true, the 'post' of Connétable would only be open to those who could afford to take this philanthropic view - and if anything the incidence of contested elections would be even less than at present, as the workload would undoubtedly mean that it was only open to people with independent means of income, and that it also did not take them away from time spent on that; in other words, it would mean the Constable would be elected on the same kind of basis as States members were before they were being paid. That seems a very retrogressive step, and one which would almost certainly ensure many worthy candidates would simply not stand. It would be reserved to people of substantial means.

The whole purpose of remuneration for States members was that lack of means would not prove a barrier to standing for election. Under the Option A proposals, if the Constable's remuneration is not funded from the ratepayers, then it would mean turning back the clock to the days before remuneration.

I bumped into a curmudgeonly old boy today when conducting a random survey, and he told me that he wished it was still "the good old days when States members didn't get paid". I don't think that was a particularly healthy position; apparently, the A-Team think otherwise with regards to Constables. Do they want to be in that kind of company?

Quite how that position of an honorary Constable is supposed to improve democracy and revitalise the Parish is questionable. I think the trouble is that the A-team have repeated their same mantra so often they have begun to believe it without spelling out in practical terms of costs. "Vote for A - it means a renewed Parish", is just so much flim-flam unless it is costed out thoroughly. Let's have some flesh on the bones, please. Some solid accounting, based on Parish accounts, as has been done in the case of St Brelade.

On the other hand, if A-Team agree that the Constables were to be paid, St. Brelade would face a 10% increase in administration costs just to keep par with current salary, but the lesser populated and largely country parishes would be facing huge increases to match par. It may be the case that smaller Parishes could manage with an honorary position, but an investigation of their finances and workloads would also be needed to provide facts and figures by someone with the requisite accounting skills, like Senator Sarah Ferguson.

Rhetorical flourishes do not constitute sound accounting, and quite honestly the same phrases are about "strengthening the Parish" (coupled with a lack of a detailed accounting and administrative study) is beginning to sound like a record that has got stuck. The devil is very carefully avoiding the details, one might say!

Of course St. Helier would have a far less of a problem - but they would also be seeking to engage a CEO if they didn't pay the Constable - again the impact on the rates would not be insignificant. A CEO for St Helier might actually end up being paid more than the Constable is at present. Simon Crowcroft hinted as much to me.

In summary: A Parish is de facto a business, one that needs to balance to books and deliver dividends to its shareholders (me and you) by way of services which they do more efficiently than the spendthrift States members (or would-be members) who don't appear to understand even the basic principles of running a business - let alone the municipality (of which they don't seem to understand its function) or even the role of the Connétable. Either the rates of the larger Parishes will need to increase for a paid position - CEO / Constable - or it is back to the bad old days when gentlemen of private means could aspire to that office, but ordinary people could not.

Wednesday, 27 March 2013

Running Scared

There is an interesting report on Referenda in Europe by Pierre Garrone, Head of the Division of Elections and Referenda Secretariat of the Venice Commission (Council of Europe).

A distinction is made between what Garrone calls a "quorum of participation" or a "quorum of approval".

"The quorum of participation (minimum turnout) means that the vote is valid only if a certain percentage of registered voters take part in the vote. The quorum of approval makes the validity of the results dependent on the approval, or perhaps rejection, of a certain percentage of the electorate."

He then lists those countries which have these limits:

"A quorum of participation of the majority of the electorate is required in the following states: Bulgaria, Croatia, Italy and Malta (abrogative referendum), Lithuania, Russia and "the former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia" (decision-making referendum). In Latvia, the quorum is half the voters who participated in the last Parliamentary election (except for constitutional revisions, see below), and, in Azerbaijan, it is only 25% of the registered voters. In Poland and Portugal, if the turnout is lower than 50%, the referendum is consultative and non-binding."

"A quorum of approval is laid down in Hungary (a quarter of the electorate); in Albania and Armenia (one-third). In Denmark, a constitutional amendment must be approved by 40% of the electorate; in other cases, the text put to the vote is rejected only if not simply the majority of voters vote against it, but also 30% of the registered electorate."

"Moreover, a particularly high quorum is sometimes required for fundamental decisions. In Latvia, when a constitutional amendment is submitted to referendum, it must be approved by more than 50% of registered voters. In Lithuania, certain particularly important rules relating to sovereignty can only be decided by a majority of three-quarters of the electorate. In Croatia, a "yes" vote by the majority of the electorate is required in the case of an association with other states."

To summarise, in a participation quorum, also known as a minimum turn-out quorum, there is a predetermined turnout threshold of registered voters which must be reached in order to validate the result. With an approval quorum, the validity of the vote depends on the approval of a certain predetermined percentage of the electorate. So the turnout is not important, what does matter is that the choice made gets above a certain threshold.

So there is a wide diversity of thresholds in use, but what is clear is that there are a number of democratic countries in which thresholds are in use, especially if there is a constitutional amendment.

The Venice Commission doesn't really like thresholds, but they have no substantive arguments against thresholds, except that they can make it difficult for change to come about. The Referendum in Sudan for independence for Southern Sudan had a threshold of 60% and was easily exceeded.

Jeremy Macon's proposition is one relating to voter turnout. He has put it at 40%, which is a turnout of voters needed for approval. Obviously there is a degree of commonsense in this. A voter turnout of around 15 - 20% of the electorate might well indicate that 80-85% of the voting public did not want the choices on offer.

One argument against this is the "activist" one - "they had their chance, they could have voted". It seems particularly perverse when it comes to a major constitutional change to make that argument, as part of democracy is to involve all the people, not just those who live and breathe politics. If they have failed to get enough people out to vote, should they be rewarded for this failure? It will not do to say "They had their chance, and they didn't take it." That is an expression of contempt for ordinary people.

The point of democracy is to bring people in, to get them to participate, and to ensure that those ordinary people who often have no voice have a chance to have their voice heard. It is not for activists to drown out that silent voice because they did not participate but to try and listen and make sure that voice is heard. Unfortunately, the activist often speaks a lot but does not listen. To listen, you have to shut up and be quiet, and that is very hard for the political activist.

As a guide to Buddhism notes: "Some people combine their rhetorical skills with clever arguments and a loud voice to dominate every conversation and stifle every point of view but their own." That's not going to draw people in to participate; it is going to send them away.

Another argument is being made that Deputies may well have been elected on a lower threshold. True, but this is an Island wide referendum. The fair comparison, which Jeremy Macon makes - and why he chose 40% - is to look at the overall turnout Islandwide on the Senatorial elections. So we can forget the cheap shots against Jeremy Macon on the basis of his own turnout.

Why is there so much fear about a threshold? Might it be because it means that change can only come about not through the activists mustering their supporters out there, but because those who are politically active will have to change their game; and get people to participate.

Instead of appealing to arguments, and browbeating the ordinary person, they'll have to listen before they speak, and then may have earned the right to be heard. But that must be genuine, and not just political politeness. Here is some Buddhist wisdom on the subject:

"For communication to take place it is not just enough to let others talk, we have to genuinely listen to them when they do. Sometimes, when others are talking, we affect an expression of interest although we are not really listening to them but only waiting for an opportunity to interrupt them so we can say what we want. To genuinely listen, we have to close our mouths and open our minds so that the other person's words are not just heard but comprehended." (Bhante Dhammika)