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If Jersey is to learn anything from the forthcoming Bridging Island Plan - with its 100+ amendments, or amendments to amendments, which our politicians are discussing this week and next - it is that the process is broken and in need of reform.
Remember, the plan only covers 2022-2025, the normal ten years cut down to three because of the impact - known and unknown - of covid and Brexit.
So what happens when it returns to its normal ten-year cycle in 2025/26, when the scope of the plan triples in timescale? 300 amendments? 500?
Perhaps the Island Plan served Jersey well in the past - but it is difficult to dismiss the feeling that something fundamental has changed.
One thing that hasn’t altered is that Jersey is still 9x5 miles.
What has changed is that there are now around 110,000 living in the island, although no one quite knows exactly how many; and even though the results of the census are due out this month, no one knows many people have left or arrived since the data was collected last year.
It’s difficult to shrug off the feeling that we’ve come to a point where there are no areas of land to develop which don’t have a significant bearing on anyone living nearby.
And when it comes to larger capital projects? The hospital? Say no more …
Gone are the days of the 60s and 70s, when a sizeable chunk of the dunelands at Les Quennevais could be turned over to housing, or villages could be developed in each Parish without anyone objecting; or the island could get rid of old cars by burying them in the sand at Les Mielles.
The other factor is that there aren’t many more fields to lose before our dairy and potato sectors become unviable, especially as crop rotation becomes increasingly important due to chemical and fertiliser use rightly falling out of favour.
Pictured: St. Clement parishioners successfully mobilised against development on nearby fields.
The island’s land mass has dipped below 50% agricultural fields for the first time ever. That is concerning on multiple fronts - not least, if agriculture is no longer viable, where does that leave our rural landscape, our identity-defining exports, our biodiversity and the balancing of our economy?
However, the problems with this plan - perhaps best encapsulated last Thursday when hundreds of Grouvallais forced a Parish Assembly to verbalise their angst - is more specific.
Granted, covid has not only shortened the plan, but also condensed its preparation time. But in my reporting of the ‘BIP’ over the last year or so, I have heard far too many islanders - including those who frequently engage with politics and their parish - complain that they were ill-informed, in the dark and taken by surprise.
There is something wrong when residents of Mont à l’Abbé found out last April that fields they cherish and value were under threat, yet Grouville parishioners only discovered their fields were in the firing line a few weeks ago.
Environment Minister John Young argues that all fields earmarked for development have long been in the public domain - and he is right, to a point.
After an initial ‘call for sites’ at the end of 2019 - which prompted around 300 submissions from landowners - a document called ‘Housing Land Availability and Assessment of Sites’ was published last April, which judged all the sites and graded them.
However, fields were merely identified by their number, and how many islanders actually know where field B82 or L598 or T267 actually are? And where is the searchable online map that allows you to tap in this field number and then zoom in to pinpoint the location?
There is an online map, which has more layers than an extra-thick mille-feuille, but you can only search by road name or postcode.
In the end, only a handful of these fields were selected for affordable housing by the Minister - and they were given plenty of coverage when the draft BIP was published at the same time.
It allowed residents in St. Saviour and St. Helier, in particular, to mobilise while St. Clement residents could breathe a sigh of relief … no more fields developed in that congested parish, at least for now.
However, in September, after a period of public consultation, Deputy Young then published a ‘Plan B’ list of sites. Suddenly, chunks of St. Clement were in the frame along with around 60 other sites.
How did that happen? You can understand why St. Clement got angry.
All fields now in the crosshairs were passed on to two independent planning inspectors to assess towards the end of last year.
Again, these were predominately referenced by an obscure field number, or occasionally something slightly more insightful, like ‘New Morley’ or ‘Quarry to east of B351, St Brelade’.
Now, I’ve lived most of my life in Jersey and take pride in knowing my ‘Rue des Ifs’ from my ‘Rue des Buttes’ … but I’m afraid these references are beyond me.
Should knowing every field number in Jersey be added to the citizenship test, or perhaps ‘Jersey field bingo’ could be an enjoyable fundraising evening at your parish hall?
Having had their fields rejected through the initial ‘call for sites’ process, landowners were given a second bite at the cherry - an opportunity to bypass the Environment Minister and his team and take their case directly to the inspectors.
Pictured: Referring to field numbers without an easy way of identifying them does little to help public understanding.
Many of them employed the services of slick professional planning advisers, who could reference the minutiae of the selection scoring process or past attempts to build on their clients’ land.
The inspectors published their report in January; the Minister accepted some recommendations and rejected others. Job done; time to get on with the debate.
Except it wasn’t. States Members then were able to bypass not only the Minister’s rejection of their proposed fields (and fields they were proposing on behalf of others) but also the rejection of the planning inspectors.
The whole cherry tree had bites taken out of it.
All of a sudden, Grouville went from one field proposed for development to around a dozen.
Judging by the reaction at Grouville Parish Hall last week, the whole process has led to a significant loss of trust and faith in Government.
There, one of the civil service architects of the BIP methodically explained how the plan had developed, but when - an hour or so later - parishioners were asked to support a proposal expressing their “concern and dissatisfaction” with the process, arms rose quicker than the price of a three-bedroom house with a garden.
It’s important to mention that, in my experience of covering BIP-related events over the past 12 months, the policymakers within Government have been diligent, thorough and professional throughout.
If they and the Minister don’t think the system is broken, then at the very least there needs to be a thorough review of how the plan is communicated - parish hall roadshows might have worked once upon a time, but Jersey is now a different place.
Neither can a document published in the dark corners of gov.je constitute public engagement.
Many argue that Jersey cannot afford to give up more of its fields to concrete. The view that Jersey is in danger of losing the very things that make it special is prevailing.
If the Government is to avoid creating deep divisions, animosity and distrust, especially among those most engaged with island life, it will need to fundamentally change the way it plans for development the next time around.
