Last week, the Jersey Evening Post ran headlines based on a report from Policy Centre Jersey—an independent document which, like many government-issued reports, offers some misleading analysis. But while the report might be largely redundant, it does serve a purpose: it highlights just how misleading statistical narratives have become.
Let’s be clear. In terms of housing, income, and economic composition, Jersey is more akin to London than to places like Stoke or Swansea. Like London, we are a financial hub, home to a high concentration of professionals and affluent residents. So when it comes to benchmarking, why compare us to the UK average—which includes regions facing significant economic deprivation—rather than to London, our true peer?
Take groceries as an example. The average food shop in London is over 30% more expensive than in areas like Stoke or Swansea. Rental prices in these cities are also a fraction of what Londoners pay. And Jersey, like London, has high wages and high property costs. On top of that, we face unique challenges: Goods and Services Tax on food, transport logistics complicated by the sea, and the increasing consumer demand for chilled products with short shelf lives. Contrary to popular belief, perishables like bread, ready meals, vegetables, and fresh flowers can’t be stored in a warehouse to hedge against shipping delays. It’s also a basic fact that longer transport times mean shorter shelf lives and higher costs through waste.
If consumers want Stoke or Swansea-level prices, they know where to find them. Anyone at the next election that promises grocery food prices 30% lower than London is either a liar or somewhat delusional. Statistics should clarify—not mislead – and we should stop spending tens of thousands reviewing the ‘bleeding obvious.’
The issue isn’t limited to economic data. In education, misleading statistics paint a flattering picture, while serious underperformance is glossed over. I remember when I was in politics, at least two schools were operating so poorly they would’ve faced closure had they been in the UK. If we choose to measure success in examinations by including data from struggling inner cities and failing schools with no similarities to our own economic wealth then what does this actually achieve? It’s time for everyone to raise its statistical game, and be honest with the public. Comparing apples with apples isn’t just better policy—it’s common sense. The reason people become disillusioned with politicians is because it is actually impossible for them to deliver on many of their election promises.
Yes, Jersey is beautiful, safe, with a high quality of life, but it’s also expensive. These facts are not contradictory—they’re complementary. The public desire for high quality at low prices is understandable, but governments shouldn’t perpetuate the illusion it can be delivered.
Let’s go back to basics on how investment considerations work. Bank accounts offer a clear example of pricing and flexibility. Instant-access savings accounts give you lower interest because you retain control. In contrast, fixed-term accounts pay more—but your money is locked away. That trade-off is called opportunity cost: when you sacrifice liquidity, you expect compensation. The greater the restrictions on an asset, the more the investor shall require to compensate.
When you book a hotel, you expect to pay more for better quality. In Jersey, a five-star stay at the end of September can cost upwards of £3,000 for 7 nights, while simpler two-star options run closer to £648. Yet somehow, this principle seems lost in housing policy.
If governments mandated that such hotels upgrade to three-star standards, would prices rise accordingly? Undoubtedly. Those grimy sub-standard really cheap accommodation options have, quite rightly, been legislated out of existence. So why don’t we apply the same logic to rental accommodation?
A hotel and a rental both provide one thing: shelter. When governments push landlords to elevate housing standards—through regulation or legislation—it inevitably raises costs. Yet too often, rent increases and landlords are vilified, the rent rise is not understood as the natural consequence of offering a better product.
The squeeze doesn’t stop at quality. Many new rules make rental property a more illiquid investment. Landlords face restrictions, delays, and mounting uncertainty. Just like with fixed-term bank accounts, investors will expect stronger returns to justify the risk and lack of flexibility.
What’s more, new regulations have made rental property a less flexible investment. Landlords face longer turnaround times, growing uncertainties, and stricter controls. And just as illiquid financial products require greater incentives, so do property investments. The Government policies may raise standards, but they certainly won’t lower rents, in fact it may well have the opposite effect – raising rents for an already financially stretched tenant.
Jersey is also contending with larger tectonic shifts: AI reshaping jobs, an aging population, dwindling investor interest in the rental market. And what is our response? We’re managing our economy like a hedge fund—leveraging debt against dwindling reserves, raiding the social security fund, and using every accounting trick in the book to protect our high public sector expenditure. Our debt projections are staggering, and there’s little appetite to trim the bloated public sector where some positions appear more ceremonial than necessary.
Optimism is good. Fantasy is not. Civil servants who, through their political mouthpieces, continue spinning feel-good tales risk appearing not just imprudent—but completely detached. We need policies grounded in reality, guided by clarity, and shaped by economic principles that aren’t just common sense—they’re foundational.
It’s time to stop comparing apples with turnips. And it’s time our policies reflected the world we actually live in, and time we told the public the inconvenient truths instead of continually failing to deliver the impossible.
