Please Note: As Deputy Curgenven’s recent arrest did not result in a charge, Express would not normally have covered the story or published his name, for data protection and privacy reasons. However, he has given us written permission to use his name in the subsequent coverage relating to Deputy Leadbeater’s decision to publish Deputy Ozanne’s email.
What began as an exchange between States Members about scrutiny and artificial intelligence has escalated into published correspondence, the disclosure of sensitive personal information and another very public political dispute.
It would be easy to choose sides. That would miss the more important question: what does this episode tell us about professionalism and the standards islanders should expect from elected representatives?
Nobody emerges particularly well. But the conduct involved is not equally serious. The first mistake was taking it public.
When Jayne Ozanne challenged Rob Curgenven about the volume of his questions, the resources required to answer them and his use of AI, Rob Curgenven had an obvious option: respond privately.
There was a reasonable response available. Scrutiny consumes public resources, but that does not make scrutiny wasteful. Questions should be relevant and proportionate, but the work involved in answering legitimate questions cannot itself become an argument against asking them.
Had he made that case privately and considered the response before deciding whether there was a public-interest point, this episode might have looked very different.
Instead, he published part of the correspondence on Facebook. That was poor judgement.
But it doesn’t justify everything that followed.
Scrutiny is supposed to be inconvenient. This episode also sits within a broader and potentially troubling debate about scrutiny.
In September, Environment & Infrastructure took what Bailiwick Express described as an apparently unprecedented step of publishing the officer time required to answer two sets of Rule 14 questions from Ross Le Brun: 27 hours. The committee’s president subsequently denied trying to discourage questions, while warning that answering them could divert officers from core responsibilities and delay other work.
Rule 14 questions, however, exist specifically to seek information and hold government to account.
There is nothing wrong with challenging questions which are repetitive, irrelevant or disproportionate. But there is an important distinction between challenging a bad question and portraying scrutiny itself as a burden because answering questions creates work.
The distinction matters because Bailiwick Express subsequently reported that officer time and costs associated with Rule 14s were not routinely recorded across government.
The decision to attach a public resource cost to Ross Le Brun’s questions therefore deserves scrutiny of its own.
Was that simply transparency? Perhaps. But repeated public emphasis on the resources consumed by questioning can have a chilling effect regardless of intention. Deputies may begin asking not only, “Is this question justified?” but “Will I be criticised for asking it?”
That concern becomes more significant alongside Mark Helyar’s recent criticism of the relationship between politicians and the public service. He has argued that deputies can be held publicly responsible for decisions in which they had little involvement and that the public elects them to supervise government.
Put the two together and there is an obvious contradiction. Deputies cannot sensibly be held accountable for government while being discouraged, however indirectly, from asking the questions necessary to understand what government is doing.
Scrutiny may be inconvenient. Sometimes it will be expensive.
The relevant question is whether it is proportionate and worthwhile, not whether it creates work. Context matters too.
There is a separate problem with the way Rob Curgenven’s previous dealings with the police appear to have been introduced into this dispute. They were hardly secret.
Bailiwick Express reported in 2022 that he had been arrested and charged following an incident, but that the charge was dropped days later for lack of evidence. It also reported that civil proceedings against police officers were subsequently being pursued.
That does not establish that the police admitted liability, or that there was no error made by those officers. Nor does it vindicate, or negate, every subsequent criticism of policing Rob Curgenven may have made.
It does, however, provide important context. If a deputy chooses to introduce another elected representative’s previous arrest into political correspondence, particularly correspondence concerning his scrutiny of policing, there is surely a responsibility to present that history fairly.
Referring to an arrest while omitting that the charge was dropped for lack of evidence risks creating a very different impression from the fuller public record. The question therefore becomes, why was that context apparently absent?
Perhaps it was careless research. Perhaps information was selected because of the impression it created. We cannot know the intention without evidence. Only Jayne Ozanne does.
But neither explanation is particularly reassuring. Fairness requires more than individual statements being technically accurate. Context matters too.
Then it gets considerably more serious
The subsequent publication of information concerning Rob Curgenven’s more recent interaction with the police is different in character. ODPA guidance classifies information concerning criminal behaviour, including allegations as well as convictions, as special category personal data requiring additional protection. That does not mean publication was necessarily unlawful. Lawful processing conditions and exemptions may apply, depending upon the circumstances.
But legality isn’t the only relevant test. Why was publication necessary? That question becomes particularly important because Marc Leadbeater is President of the Committee for Home Affairs.
His own previous words provide a useful benchmark. When Rob Curgenven was removed from the political group reviewing Guernsey’s police complaints system, Marc Leadbeater said members had agreed not to comment publicly on live or individual cases and emphasised confidentiality, professionalism and integrity. Those seem entirely reasonable standards.
The question is whether he applies them equally to himself. Marc Leadbeater has previously been subject to an adverse Code of Conduct finding concerning confidential information.
In 2025, the Standards Commissioner found that Marc Leadbeater and Rob Curgenven had breached confidentiality rules concerning disclosure of another Code complaint.
There is an important qualification: Guernsey Press reported there was no material evidence against Marc Leadbeater, and the finding was made on the balance of probabilities. But the Commissioner’s conclusion is particularly relevant now. The episode, she said, should serve as a reminder of the need for “discretion, care and respect for confidentiality” in future conduct. That makes the latest episode difficult to dismiss as simply another Facebook spat.
There may be an entirely legitimate explanation. Perhaps Marc Leadbeater believed publication was necessary and proportionate in the public interest. If so, he should explain what public purpose required the sensitive information itself to be published and why that purpose could not have been achieved without doing so.
If he failed to appreciate the sensitivity of the information, that raises questions about judgement.
If he appreciated its sensitivity but nevertheless considered it appropriate to publish during a political dispute, that raises a different and potentially more serious question. Was sensitive information being used for a political purpose?
That is a question, not an accusation. Only Marc Leadbeater can explain his reasoning. But given the office he holds, his previous insistence on confidentiality and professionalism, and the Standards Commissioner’s earlier finding, it is a question he should answer.
There is a a question around suitability for the role held. Politicians make mistakes. Poor judgement should not automatically produce demands for resignation. But some offices necessarily require particularly sound judgement.
Home Affairs deals directly with policing and other significant functions of government. Its President therefore occupies a position in which the treatment of sensitive information matters. Marc Leadbeater is currently President of Home Affairs.
The question is no longer simply whether his intervention was appropriate. The question is:
What does his decision to publish this information tell us about his judgement, and is that judgement compatible with the responsibilities of the office he holds?
There is an important difference between asking that question and declaring the answer.
He should have the opportunity to explain himself. Islanders are equally entitled to decide whether that explanation gives them confidence.
One standard, whoever you are. This should not become another exercise in choosing political teams.
Rob Curgenven should have responded privately before taking the original exchange public.
Jayne Ozanne is entitled to challenge disproportionate scrutiny, but focusing on the resources required to answer legitimate questions risks contributing to a culture in which scrutiny itself becomes the problem. The experience of Ross Le Brun shows why that concern is not entirely theoretical.
And if sensitive historical information is introduced into political correspondence, it should be presented fairly and in context.
But Marc Leadbeater’s actions raise more serious questions because of the sensitivity of the information, the office he holds, his previous statements about confidentiality and professionalism, and the Commissioner’s earlier finding.
These criticisms are not equivalent. They do, however, have something in common. They demonstrate what happens when political disagreement becomes personal.
Guernsey doesn’t need fewer difficult questions. It needs proportionate scrutiny, clear answers and politicians capable of robust disagreement without allowing professional standards to slip.
Scrutiny without professionalism becomes theatre. Government without scrutiny becomes complacent. And confidentiality which applies only when politically convenient isn’t really confidentiality at all. The standard should be the same, whoever is holding the information.
Anonymous reader
The writer of this letter asked to remain anonymous, due to the sensitive nature of their job.
