Politics

Would Jersey benefit from having an upper house as a second pair of eyes to review our legislation?

By Carl Parslow,Voices

Copyright jerseyeveningpost

Would Jersey benefit from having an upper house as a second pair of eyes to review our legislation?

By Carl Parslow

FOR generations, Jersey has relied on a single legislative chamber: the States Assembly, made up of Deputies and Constables, and back soon, the reincarnated Senators. It has suited the Island in the past. But as legal and regulatory challenges grow more complex, we must ask: is that simplicity still serving us, or is it now holding us back?

The question first came from a wise observer: “Would Jersey benefit from an upper house?”

Not a demand, not a manifesto, just a comment. But it stayed with me. And the more I considered it, the more it seemed worth asking: is our current political system still fit for purpose?

At first glance, the idea sounds almost absurd. Jersey is small. Our politics are let me say, “charmingly” local. Why complicate things? Why add an additional layer of government?

Because maybe that very absence of complexity is no longer a strength. Maybe it is a vulnerability, one that weakens scrutiny, limits accountability and allows laws to pass too quickly, without enough challenge or reflection.

In most democracies, an upper house acts as a counterweight, a chamber of review, revision and restraint. Think of it as the legislative equivalent of a second pair of eyes before hitting send on an email you cannot afford to get wrong. And Jersey would not be alone among small nations in adopting such a system. Palau, with fewer than 20,000 residents, has both a Senate and a House of Delegates. Antigua and Barbuda, with around 94,000 people, operates a bicameral legislature with an appointed Senate. Closer to home the Isle of Man, with a population similar to ours, has a Legislative Council to scrutinise bills passed by the House of Keys.

Here, scrutiny is handled internally by committees like the Public Accounts Committee and Scrutiny panels. They do important work, but they are made up mostly of the same elected politicians who sit in the Assembly. It is a bit like marking your own homework: technically possible but hardly ideal. Their independence is limited, their resources constrained and their effectiveness uneven.

A recent report on Jersey’s complaints systems found systemic weaknesses: unclear procedures, inconsistent outcomes and a lack of external oversight. That should worry us. It suggests our accountability mechanisms are fragmented and fragile.

And then there is the technical scrutiny of draft laws. Yes, legislation is reviewed by the Law Officers’ Department and sometimes referred to Scrutiny panels. But the depth of analysis varies. Time pressures, limited expertise and political priorities often mean draft laws are not examined as rigorously as they should be.

Upper houses often include appointed experts, financiers, economists and retired business leaders, who can dissect legislation with precision and impartiality. In Jersey, elected officials do it all. Many do so with dedication, but political considerations can overshadow technical ones. It is like asking a politician to do your tax return, possible, but probably not advisable.

This tension between political and technical oversight is not unique to Jersey, but it is more acute in a system without institutional diversity. Politicians are elected to represent constituents, not necessarily to master the intricacies of law-making. Yet in Jersey, they are expected to do both. The result? A legislature that arguably lacks the capacity to challenge itself effectively.

And then there is the party question, or rather, the lack of them. The emergence of a single party raises questions about balance. In a chamber largely populated by independents, coordinated messaging and shared resources could give one bloc disproportionate influence, perhaps not by design but by default. Does this dynamic risk skewing the legislative process? An upper house could help restore balance, offering a space for structured, non-partisan review.

Would this be easy? No. Would it add bureaucracy? Not if done right. A second chamber would need careful design, a clear purpose and strong public support. But done well, it could strengthen democracy, improve the quality of laws and build greater trust in decision-making.

One option might be a group of appointed members, experts in finance, economy, business and other areas, offering independent, informed views on legislation. Another approach could mix elected and appointed members, combining democratic legitimacy with specialist knowledge. The goal would not be to slow things down but to ensure laws are well thought through, fair and fit for purpose.

Critics will undoubtedly say Jersey is too small for such complexity. They will argue an upper house would slow decision-making, increase costs and create duplication. These concerns may be valid but they must be weighed against the risks of poor legislation, weak accountability and public mistrust. A lean, efficient second chamber could add value without adding bulk. Its purpose would not be to obstruct, but to improve.

Because here is the point: as Jersey faces increasingly sophisticated challenges, from international compliance to digital transformation, it needs institutions that can match that complexity. A single chamber, however well-intentioned, may no longer be enough.

Recent decisions, however well-meaning, have introduced layers of regulation, increased administrative burdens and, in some cases, discouraged investment and innovation. Rather than supporting sustainable growth, some policies have had the unintended effect of contracting the economy and adding red tape, at a time when agility and competitiveness matter most.

Without a second chamber to challenge assumptions, test evidence and bring in expertise, we risk continuing down a path where legislation is passed quickly but not wisely. And in a small economy like Jersey’s, the consequences can be significant.

Creating an upper house would be a bold move. But boldness is what progress demands. It is not about nostalgia for old systems or blind faith in new ones, it is about building a governance model that works for the Jersey of today and tomorrow. It is about recognising that complexity in governance is not a flaw when it delivers clarity, accountability and better outcomes for the people it serves.

The real question is not whether Jersey can afford an upper house, but whether it can afford the cost of carrying on without one. And if we truly value good governance, the answer should be obvious.

Born and educated in the Island, Carl Parslow is an experienced Jersey Advocate and notary public with over 25 years’ experience. He heads up Parslows LLP business legal services department, advising corporates and individuals on a range of issues with a particular emphasis on acting for Jersey owner-managed businesses. Outside of work, he enjoys rugby and cycling with Lasardines.