With the island’s next general election just three months away some of us may be struggling to remember how Manx politics works.

So here’s my take on a democratic system that is as rare, and as odd, as the loaghtan sheep.

At its heart is Tynwald, invented by Vikings more than 1,000 years ago and said to be the world’s oldest continuous parliament. Actual democracy, though, is much younger and arguably has yet to mature into proper national politics.

The right to vote was not extended to all adults until 1919, for example, and the island only started to emerge from colonial rule in the 1960s. We, the people, still do not get to choose our government, but more of that later.

The primary chamber of Tynwald is the House of Keys, with 24 MHKs - two from each of 12 constituencies - elected by the public.

General elections happen every five years and the next one is on September 23.

(There is a second chamber appointed by the Keys, the Legislative Council, the nine members of which, MLCs, are supposed to confine themselves to the business of scrutiny and revision.)

The ancient yet adolescent system of Manx democracy is special in at least four ways. It is:

1. Very small scale.

The average electorate per MHK is around 2,500, against an average 72,000 registered voters for every MP in the United Kingdom.

This means that each Manx constituent has almost 30 times more political influence than their counterpart in the UK. The ratio is much bigger if you consider that there are only 24 MHKs, compared to 650 MPs.

Truly has it been said that the Isle of Man is the only place in the world where one person can be a pressure group. Our political culture is highly reactive to individual and localised concerns.

Election results can be decided by single figure margins, so every vote really does count.

With 60,000 registered voters at the last general election, the island would be represented by one MP if we were part of the UK.

2. Non-party.

Political parties exist in the Isle of Man but have never been dominant, and the vast majority of candidates and members are independent. Parties may make more impact this time round, with Manx Labour, the Greens and Liberal Vannin all pushing to raise their profile.

But personality has always been more potent than policy in small communities where voters often have personal knowledge of the candidates. As many new residents have found, if you don’t know the candidates it can be a challenge to tell the difference between them.

Given the size of the constituencies, and the paucity of party politics, the focus of debate has traditionally been more on local detail than national policy priorities.

3. Not about the Government.

Unlike the UK, the function of Manx elections is not to pass judgment on the previous government and choose the next one. It is purely to instal 24 local constituency representatives in the parliament.

There is no party framework to translate the parliamentary outcome into authority to govern (parliament and government being different things of course).

Without reference to the public, the new House seals the island’s fate for the following five years by electing the next Chief Minister, who is then free to pick his or her Council of Ministers, the Manx ’Cabinet’.

Because general elections here are not about who should be leading the country, and in what direction, the Council of Ministers has no mandate from the people. Nor, at the end of five years, is it held collectively responsible for its performance. So in the Isle of Man the government is not, as a corporate body, accountable to the public.

When politicians are elected and re-elected on a largely local basis, there is less pressure on them to develop a national agenda and less incentive to deliver at that level.

The disconnect between voters and government is a striking feature of our democratic structure.

4. Based on coalition and consensus.

The non-partisan nature of the island’s politics means there is no government versus opposition dynamic in its parliament. Indeed, most members of Tynwald are also in government, either as ministers or department members, so it can look like a game with only one team on the pitch.

However, the government whip is a rather flimsy instrument and the non-ministers do rebel occasionally. The Council of Ministers, itself a broad coalition of nine components, has a chunky block vote but no guaranteed majority. Consensus is key.

The Manx way seems harmonious compared to the trench warfare of politics in other countries. But it does tend to blur the critical distinction between government, as the executive arm, and parliament, which should scrutinise government and hold it to account.

None of the above peculiarities, imperfections and flaws are an excuse for refusing to engage in the forthcoming general election. The system may be quaint but it still gives politicians real responsibility and power over our lives.

We will pay the price if we sit back and allow the wrong people to get in.