To Those Who Refuse to Kneel: Guernsey Needs You More Than Ever
For the first time in generations, something feels different in Guernsey politics. After nearly four decades of watching promises fade and political optimism disappear, I'm seeing deputies who refuse to surrender independent thought. This is my message to them, and to an island standing at a crossroads.
Published 16 Oct 2026, 03:00 BST · Last edited 16 Oct 2026, 03:00 BSTShare this page ↗
For the first time in generations, I see something happening in Guernsey politics that gives me genuine hope. And to the deputies who are making it happen, this is for you.
I've been following Guernsey politics for as long as I can remember.
My interest stretches back to the mid-1980s, when I was just a boy growing up on our little island. Nearly four decades of watching elections, listening to promises, observing governments and wondering why, despite the changing faces, so little ever seems to change.
And over those decades, I've noticed a pattern.
It's a pattern that has repeated itself with almost predictable consistency.
Election time arrives. Candidates step forward. Manifestos are published. Promises are made. Doors are knocked upon. Hands are shaken.
People speak passionately about their love for Guernsey. About protecting its future. About representing ordinary islanders. About challenging the establishment, demanding accountability and doing things differently.
And I genuinely believe most of them meant it.
Then something happened.
They got elected.
Suddenly, the passionate voices become quieter. The bold ideas become more cautious. The promises that once seemed so important gradually disappear beneath committees, procedures and political compromises.
The people who promised to challenge the system appear to become part of it.
And the people who elected them are left wondering what happened.
I don't necessarily believe this transformation comes from dishonesty. I suspect many enter politics with the very best of intentions.
Perhaps the realities of government are far more complicated than they imagined. Perhaps they discover information the rest of us never get to see. Perhaps the pressure to conform becomes overwhelming.
I don't know.
But I do know that, election after election, I've watched the same disappointment unfold.
Until now.
Something Changed in 2025
I can't quite explain it, but something feels different about the deputies elected in June 2025.
For the first time in a very long time, I'm seeing something I had almost forgotten was possible.
Politicians who appear genuinely prepared to challenge the political establishment, even when doing so puts them in the minority.
Not just one isolated voice.
Not just the occasional outspoken deputy who asks uncomfortable questions before being overwhelmed by the weight of numbers.
Several.
Several individuals who appear unwilling to accept that something must be right simply because it has always been done that way.
People who question assumptions.
People who ask for evidence.
People who explore alternatives rather than automatically accepting the preferred option.
People who seem to understand that being elected to represent the public does not mean surrendering independent thought at the doors of the States Chamber.
And perhaps most importantly, people who appear to recognise that the future of Guernsey is more important than preserving the habits of its past.
I won't name names.
Some of these individuals I've known since childhood. I even attended school with some of them. Others I've only had the pleasure of getting to know more recently.
They know who they are.
And I suspect a growing number of islanders recognise what they're trying to achieve.
Guernsey Is Standing at a Crossroads
I love Guernsey.
I was born there. I was raised there. It shaped who I am, how I think and what I value.
No matter where life takes me, Guernsey will always be home.
But loving somewhere doesn't mean pretending everything is fine.
In fact, I'd argue that sometimes loving somewhere means being prepared to ask the questions nobody wants to answer.
And right now, I have serious concerns about Guernsey's future.
Not just about taxation.
Not just about housing.
Not just about the cost of living, employment opportunities or the increasing difficulty young families face when trying to build a life on the island.
I'm concerned about something much bigger.
I'm concerned that Guernsey is trying to navigate tomorrow's world with yesterday's thinking.
We are living through one of the most extraordinary periods of technological and economic transformation in human history.
Artificial intelligence, automation, advances in medicine, changes in global employment, shifts in international finance and entirely new industries are beginning to reshape the world around us.
And this is only the beginning.
The world five years from now could look remarkably different from the world we recognise today.
Ten years from now? Who knows?
Yet so much political discussion still seems anchored to preserving existing structures rather than preparing for what comes next.
The uncomfortable reality is that the world isn't going to slow down while Guernsey decides whether it wants to participate.
The future isn't waiting for permission.
And burying our heads in the sand won't prevent it from arriving.
But here's the exciting part.
For a small, intelligent, resourceful and internationally connected island like Guernsey, change doesn't have to represent a threat.
It could represent an extraordinary opportunity.
An opportunity to innovate.
An opportunity to diversify.
An opportunity to develop new industries, attract investment, improve public services and create possibilities for future generations that simply didn't exist before.
We have advantages that much larger jurisdictions would envy.
Our size. Our adaptability. Our international connections. Our people.
But none of those advantages matter if we refuse to look beyond the way things have always been done.
Guernsey doesn't need to become a bigger island. It needs to become a more forward-thinking one.
And that requires people in government who are prepared to think differently.
Democracy Was Never Supposed to Be Comfortable
I promised myself I wouldn't turn this article into another debate about GST.
And I won't.
We've all heard enough about it for several lifetimes.
But I will make one observation.
Regardless of whether someone supported or opposed GST, the recent debate raised questions that should concern anyone who values transparent and accountable government.
Alternatives were presented. Amendments were proposed. Some were debated extensively, while others were rejected with comparatively little discussion.
Not every alternative will be practical. Not every proposal deserves to succeed. And disagreement is an entirely legitimate part of parliamentary democracy.
But there is a big difference between examining an alternative and deciding it isn't viable, and appearing unwilling to give it meaningful consideration in the first place.
A government should never be afraid of scrutiny.
It should welcome it.
Because genuine scrutiny isn't an obstacle to good government.
It's one of the things that makes good government possible.
A parliamentary majority can determine the outcome of a vote.
But a majority doesn't automatically make an argument correct.
And losing a vote doesn't automatically make an argument wrong.
The truth is not determined by a show of hands.
Especially when the decisions being made today will shape the lives of generations who aren't yet old enough to vote.
The purpose of democracy isn't simply to produce a winning side.
It's to ensure that decisions are examined, challenged, justified and ultimately made in the best interests of the people.
Not the convenience of the institution.
Not the preservation of political reputations.
The people.
The very people whose trust put those deputies into office.
To the Deputies Who Keep Asking Questions
This is really why I'm writing this article.
Not to criticise those with whom I disagree.
Not to reopen old arguments.
And certainly not to pretend that the deputies I admire will always be right.
They won't.
Nobody is.
I don't expect perfection from our elected representatives. I don't expect them to agree with me on every issue, and I certainly don't expect them to have all the answers.
What I do expect is integrity.
Independent thought.
The courage to admit when something isn't working.
The willingness to explore possibilities that might initially seem uncomfortable, unconventional or even impossible.
And above all, the determination to remember who they were elected to represent.
To those deputies who continue to demonstrate those qualities, I want to say something very simple.
Thank you.
Thank you for asking difficult questions.
Thank you for challenging assumptions.
Thank you for demanding explanations when the answers don't appear to add up.
Thank you for exploring alternatives when it would be considerably easier to remain silent.
Thank you for continuing to participate even when the numbers suggest that your proposals may not succeed.
And thank you for reminding people like me that political courage doesn't have to disappear the moment someone gets elected.
I appreciate that public service can be exhausting.
I appreciate that constant criticism, political disagreements and repeated setbacks must sometimes make you question why you even bothered in the first place.
I imagine there are days when walking away seems infinitely more appealing than continuing to argue against an apparently immovable majority.
But I hope you understand something.
Your contribution is not measured solely by the number of votes you win.
Sometimes the most important contribution a politician makes is asking the question that everyone else would rather avoid.
Sometimes progress begins with an idea that initially attracts very little support.
Sometimes the person who changes the course of history isn't the one who wins the argument today.
It's the one who refuses to let an important question disappear.
And sometimes the greatest service an elected representative can provide is simply refusing to mistake political consensus for unquestionable truth.
There Is Strength in Numbers
For decades, I've watched individual deputies attempt to challenge established thinking.
Some were eloquent. Some were passionate. Some were genuinely ahead of their time.
But too often, they seemed isolated.
One voice against many.
One set of questions against an established position.
Eventually, their arguments were defeated, their proposals rejected, and political life continued much as it had before.
But what gives me hope today is that there appear to be more independent voices willing to challenge the direction of governance.
Not necessarily united by political ideology.
Not necessarily in agreement about every policy.
And they shouldn't have to be.
Independent thinking means accepting that people can disagree with one another while still sharing a commitment to a better future.
What matters is having enough people prepared to ask serious questions, explore alternatives and challenge complacency.
That, to me, is where real political progress begins.
Not through blind opposition.
Not through obstructing government simply for the sake of it.
But through the recognition that the strongest decisions are those capable of surviving the toughest questions.
The Next Generation Deserves Better Than Yesterday's Answers
When I think about Guernsey's future, I don't just think about the island I remember growing up on.
I think about the generations coming after us.
The children growing up there today.
The young adults wondering whether they'll ever afford their own home.
The families questioning whether their future lies on the island they love or somewhere else entirely.
And the generations who will inherit the consequences of decisions being made right now.
They deserve more than just nostalgia.
They deserve more than carefully managed decline disguised as stability.
They deserve more than an endless cycle of elections, promises, disappointments and excuses.
They deserve a government prepared to recognise that the world has changed.
One prepared to adapt.
To innovate.
To question.
To listen.
To admit mistakes.
And to recognise opportunities before they disappear.
Because protecting Guernsey's heritage and embracing its future are not mutually exclusive.
We can preserve what makes our island special while still having the courage to evolve.
In fact, I believe our ability to do both will be essential to Guernsey's long-term success.
Tradition should be something we carry proudly into the future, not something we use to prevent ourselves from reaching it.
A Revolution in Expectations
I'm not calling for revolution in the streets.
I'm calling for something that, in its own way, might be considerably more powerful.
A revolution in what we expect from those who govern us.
A culture where asking difficult questions is recognised as a responsibility rather than an inconvenience.
Where transparency is the default rather than something the public must repeatedly demand.
Where alternative ideas are examined on their merits rather than dismissed because they challenge established thinking.
Where elected representatives are judged not simply by their ability to secure majorities, but by their willingness to explain, justify and take responsibility for their decisions.
And where the people of Guernsey remain actively engaged in shaping their island's future.
That doesn't mean blindly supporting any particular deputy.
It means paying attention.
Reading what they propose.
Listening to their arguments.
Questioning their decisions.
Recognising good work wherever it comes from.
And holding everyone to the same standards, regardless of whether we happen to agree with them.
Because democracy doesn't end when the ballot boxes are emptied.
That's where the responsibility really begins.
Please, Don't Give Up!
I began this article by reflecting on nearly four decades of watching Guernsey politics.
Four decades of familiar patterns.
Four decades of watching optimism emerge at election time, only too often to be followed by disappointment.
But something about the current generation of deputies has given me a renewed sense of hope.
Perhaps I'll eventually be disappointed again.
I sincerely hope not.
Because I believe Guernsey is approaching a pivotal moment in its history.
The choices made over the next few years could have consequences stretching far beyond the terms of those currently sitting in the States Chamber.
And the island desperately needs people prepared to look forward rather than simply defend what already exists.
So to those elected representatives who continue to question, challenge, investigate and explore what Guernsey could become:
Please don't give up!
Don't allow political setbacks to convince you that your efforts are wasted.
Don't mistake being outnumbered for being irrelevant.
Don't abandon ambitious ideas simply because they make others uncomfortable.
Don't forget the promises that inspired you to stand for election in the first place.
And above all, don't lose sight of the people whose futures depend upon the decisions you make.
You know who you are! The people of Guernsey know who you are!
This isn't about personalities, political allegiances or creating another division between competing camps.
It's about recognising something I haven't felt this strongly in a very long time.
Hope.
Hope that independent thinking still has a place in Guernsey politics.
Hope that there are people prepared to challenge the familiar.
Hope that our beautiful island might yet embrace the extraordinary opportunities emerging around us.
And hope that the next generation of Sarnians will inherit an island that isn't simply surviving, but thriving.
To the deputies who are still standing their ground, still asking the questions and still trying to make a difference:
Again, thank you!
We see the effort. We recognise the determination. And even when you lose a vote, that doesn't mean your voice hasn't made a difference.
You may not realise just how much those efforts matter to people watching from outside the Chamber.
I genuinely believe Guernsey has the potential for an extraordinary future.
But potential means nothing without the courage to pursue it.
And while I would never place the responsibility for an entire island's future on the shoulders of a handful of individuals, I do believe those willing to challenge established thinking have an important part to play.
Perhaps a more important part than they realise.
Guernsey's future has not yet been written.
Please don't let it be written entirely by those who are content to repeat its past.
À la perchoïne, Guernsey. 🇬🇬