Thought

Public procurement in Government doesn’t just purchase products, services and projects - over time it has the capability to compound its effects, strengthening our economy, or quietly eroding it.

I’ve been exploring this dynamic as a simple systems model: The Public Procurement Helix.

One of Darwin’s most important insights is that islands are nature’s laboratories.
When a population is small, contained, and exposed to consistent pressures, evolution accelerates: new forms emerge, old assumptions loosen, and innovation becomes inevitable.

Guernsey sits in that same position today, not biologically, but socially and economically. We are large enough to be diverse and resilient, yet small enough to coordinate change. We have strong community cohesion, clearly defined boundaries, and a shared landscape that has shaped our character for centuries. Almost uniquely we have the constitutional independence to choose our own path.

In a world where bigger nations are struggling under the weight of complexity, islands like ours hold something rare:
the ability to explore new models of living that the mainland simply cannot attempt. Guernsey already shows many of the traits that allow rapid, coherent adaptation:
• Scale that lets us experiment responsibly
• Cultural cohesion that supports collective action
• Boundary clarity that sharpens priorities
• Historical innovation in the face of scarcity
• Independence to chart our own direction

We don’t need to decide what alternative paths might look like today, but we can acknowledge that Guernsey is uniquely placed to begin asking different questions and to explore ideas that larger places are too entangled to consider.

This is a simple ecological logic that has shaped islands for millions of years. If the next evolution in how communities live is going to happen anywhere,
small islands like ours are where it will begin. The next step is to talk about what the future phases of our societal evolution could look like, and to share and listen to ideas and options in a truthful respectful way to give ourselves choice as we progress.

Where Social Intent meets Private Interest:

Development Frameworks are intended to guide how areas evolve over time. At their best, they explore context: how streets connect, how communities form, and how new development can strengthen the island’s social and economic fabric.

In practice, Development Frameworks in Guernsey have often been reduced to something narrower; documents commissioned by a landowner or developer to justify a specific proposal. That’s not what I believe they were meant to be.

In my opinion, a true Development Framework should sit above private interest. It should interpret policy, not weaponise it, should identify opportunity, not just optimise yield, and it should be led by communities, and professionals working together to shape how an area contributes to the wider success of Guernsey as a living, evolving island.

Larger and more complex frameworks demand independence, from both landowners and political pressure. They should balance economic viability with social value, environmental stewardship, and long-term place quality. Done properly, a Development Framework can be one of the most powerful tools we have: a shared map for change that respects context, imagination, and community. The biggest problem has been that no one wants to pay the significant cost of employing the right professionals to lead the production of independent, locally sensitive and meaningful development frameworks.

If Guernsey wants to grow sustainably, our frameworks must become just that - frameworks for development, not frameworks for approval.

I’ve been reflecting on how we understand “kindness” in policy and regulation. The instinct to prevent harm, to say “anything that saves a life is worth doing”, comes from a good place, but I’m not sure it’s always the whole story.

Sometimes, in protecting against rare but serious risks, we place heavy burdens on many others: in cost, complexity, stress, and lost opportunity. These impacts are harder to see, but no less real. I’m increasingly interested in what kindness to the whole community looks like, not just in moments of crisis, but across everyday life.

That feels like a harder, more adult conversation, and probably a necessary one.

When a development proposal crystalises, it is often understood to follow a simple linear sequence.

Site → Feasibility → Design → Planning → Finance → Construction → Letting → Sale

For more complex sites, particularly those in regeneration zones, subject to multiple ownerships, mixed-uses and strategic partnerships between government, funders, developers and end-users, the sequence of actions is far more intricate.

Peter Fisher derived a model based on a study on Grainger Town in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, a locality with over 500 buildings, 40% of which were listed.

I’ve visualised Fisher’s model, using his seven principle elements (Long-Term Trends, Government, Actors, Property Markets, Site, Economy & Events Sequences), with 51 sub-elements and over 250 node connections, some bilateral.

It goes to demonstrate just how challenging the dynamics of regeneration are, and how applying a simple sequential development model or expecting one body within the system to lead or drive alone will most often lead to imbalanced or unsuccessful outcomes.

Over the past four years, I’ve been working closely with the parishes of St Peter’s and St Martin’s to help shape their Community Plans, the first of their kind in Guernsey. These projects are about more than policy or planning frameworks; they’re about giving people a genuine voice in how their communities evolve.

Each parish has its own character, priorities, and sense of place. My role has been to help residents, businesses, and local organisations to articulate that, to draw out what they want their parish or local centre to be like, and translate it into a shared set of proposals that planners and policymakers can consider in their deliberations.

In both parishes, workshops, surveys, and conversations have revealed deep pride and concern: how to keep young families on the island, how to balance growth with heritage, how to maintain the landscapes and village hearts that make these places unique.

What’s emerging is a new kind of local democracy, one that doesn’t start with drawings or policy documents, but with listening. The process is helping communities define their own priorities for housing, sustainability, transport, and public space in ways that reflect who they are.

Guernsey’s future will depend on many such conversations. If we want development to be sustainable and inclusive, it has to start from the ground up, from the people who live, work, and belong here.