Most of our food and goods come from England, which is 120 miles away. Property prices, building costs, and labour costs are high. As a wealthy community, we consume more fresh fruit and vegetables, and more convenience foods with a limited shelf life, leading to higher waste due to transport times and delays. Food is expensive and always will be, and to make it even more costly, we tax it at a rate of £1 for the Government on every £20 spent. Only the less informed are bewildered by the higher prices. If a politician tells you they can bring down food prices to the levels in places like Swansea, they are either a fool or a liar. And if you think Jersey prices are expensive, compare them with Bermuda, another island nation, and you will be thankful for what you have. Food prices in Bermuda are eye-wateringly high compared to Jersey.
In an age where affordability often dominates conversations about where to live, it’s easy to overlook the intangible yet invaluable aspects of quality of life. Jersey offers a compelling case for why paying more can mean living better. With its clean streets, low crime rates, and a palpable sense of safety, Jersey stands as a beacon of what a secure and serene community can look like.
While places like Swansea may offer cheaper groceries, lower housing costs, and more accessible amenities, the trade-off often comes in the form of significantly higher crime rates, social unrest, and a diminished sense of personal security. Jersey, by contrast, offers a lifestyle that many dream of but few experience—a place where people routinely leave their cars and homes unlocked, walk freely without fear, and enjoy a community largely untouched by the urban challenges that plague many UK cities.
One of Jersey’s most defining features is its remarkably low crime rate. With around 3 crimes per 100 people, it ranks among the safest places in the British Isles. Violent crime, gang activity, and antisocial behaviour are rare. There are no roaming groups of youths on mopeds snatching phones, no graffiti-laden alleyways (other than one in the new Bergerac series which was actually filmed in the UK – hopefully they will do better in the second series!), and no sense of unease when walking alone at night. This level of safety is not just a statistic—it’s a lived reality that permeates daily life.
I’ve been travelling to London on business for over 45 years, and on a recent trip, I found myself standing on the Underground, gripping the overhead bar like a seasoned commuter. My Cartier watch—a loyal companion through boardrooms and airports—was in full view. For the first time in my life, I had a sudden, uncomfortable thought: “Maybe this isn’t the best idea.” I subtly rotated my wrist like a nervous magician trying to make the watch disappear.
When I returned to Jersey, I did what any self-respecting islander would do—I bored my colleagues to death with the story. To my surprise, they all nodded knowingly. “Oh, we stopped wearing nice watches in the UK years ago,” they said. One wealthy immigrant even told me, “The only place my wife wears her good jewellery is Jersey.” And that, right there, says everything.
Jersey’s streets are safe, litter is rare, public spaces are well-maintained compared to other places, and there’s a strong sense of civic pride. This cleanliness contributes to a general atmosphere of respect and order, reinforcing the idea that Jersey is a place where people care—about their environment, their neighbours, and their community.
In many cheaper urban centres, public cleanliness can be a challenge. Overflowing bins, fly-tipping, and neglected infrastructure are common complaints. These issues, while seemingly minor, contribute to a broader sense of decline and disconnection. We don’t have hooded thieves on mopeds, shoplifting gangs, knife crime, and dirty streets. (Note: we also don’t have Angela Rayner, Kier Starmer, Sadiq Khan, Boris Johnson, and Diane Abbott).
In Swansea, while there are certainly pockets of strong community, the challenges posed by crime and deprivation can make it harder to build and maintain those connections. We no longer have the mass tourism that other places are now protesting about, and maybe we should appreciate the beauty and serenity of a quiet Gorey or St Brelade’s Bay on a summers day – and use the lack of over-crowding as a marketing plus. “What is this life if, full of care, we have no time to stand and stare.”
Yes, Jersey is expensive. But what residents get in return is priceless: peace of mind, clean streets, and a community where people still say hello to each other. Would you trade high prices for high crime and a police force that no longer responds to burglaries?
Think of it as an investment in well-being. The money saved by living in a cheaper city may be spent on security systems, insurance premiums, expensive commuting, or simply the emotional toll of living in a place where safety isn’t guaranteed. In Jersey, those concerns are largely absent. Furthermore when I go travelling, I often look at the spectacular scenery and think to myself—Jersey is more spectacular.
Jersey’s success isn’t accidental. It’s the result of rising wealth, community engagement, and a collective commitment to maintaining high standards. And here’s the rub: if we accept that prices are higher, and always will be due to structural issues, we can stop wasting time looking for someone to blame and concentrate on policies designed to lessen the burden for those struggling due to low incomes.
In the end, the choice between Jersey and a more affordable city like Swansea comes down to values. If cost is the only metric, then cheaper cities will always win. But if quality of life, safety, and community matter, and we can help those that find the Island expensive, then Jersey is worth every extra pound. The reason I push for high standards in everything we do is because I never want us to lose what we have by becoming increasingly like the socialist UK.
And finally. In my speech to the Jersey Hospitality Association on the 6th February I said the Jersey Battle of Flowers should be a “community event which is held in St Helier and is free – supported by local sponsors and a smaller grant. We should make it a carnival again – not a parade of floats on a dual carriageway.” Following the success at the weekend, enjoyed by so many local families, I believe many will now share this view. Congratulations to those involved – just make sure you build on this success and don’t go backwards – yesterday is gone!
