FIRST among equals is how the chief minister likens his role. Elected by firstly the people of his parish and secondly his peers in the States of Deliberation he is undoubtedly the leader of the island’s political democracy.

As such it is a prestigious position, worthy of due respect.

But for Deputy Lyndon Trott it is not enough to have the garlands; the job must come with the rod of genuine power.

It is clear from his speech to the CGI that after seven months in the role he feels frustrated. The lack of executive authority hampers firstly his ability to direct the government and secondly prevents him from standing tall on the national and international stage among true decision-makers.

That world stage is becoming an increasingly time-consuming and vital part of government and will continue in that vein as the UK seeks to examine the island’s place in international finance.

Some will portray the chief minister as too hungry for power, an urge the current system allows the Assembly to stifle. For those critics, a weak chief executive hamstrung by an inability to choose the team around him or her prevents abuse of power and a one-man band government.

He is thus left, as he himself complains, to force issues through by strength of personality alone.

Many deputies will say that, on the whole, he has the skill-set to achieve that very well.

Yet, as we saw at the end of the last island government, there are times when a minister falls away from the council and becomes a maverick unwilling to accept the yoke of collective responsibility and joined-up government.

And there was a time when a faction developed and it was clear a split in policy and personalities was damaging the States.

At such moments the chief minister’s weak position becomes all too evident. Once he has privately castigated the ministers and reminded them of their responsibilities he just has to hope they will come around to his way of thinking or fall on their sword.

Failing that, what is plan B?