In Northern Ireland there isn't much excited expectation in advance of this weekend's political summit at Leeds Castle, writes David Adams. Certainly, most people would dearly love a final settlement (or at least the solid outline of one) to be agreed at Kent, but history tells us that it would be optimistic in the extreme to adopt anything other than a wait-and-see attitude.
Previous summits have produced so little of value and dashed so many hopes that those not yet entirely cynical are, to put it mildly, now decidedly cautious in their expectations.
Predictable but hopelessly vague and ultimately hollow threats from the governments don't cut much ice either. Our politicians have sailed with impunity past so many "final" deadlines and drank so often in the "last chance saloon" that neither they nor the public now afford them any weight.
But why, 10 years after ceasefires and more than six years after the Belfast Agreement, are Northern Ireland's politicians still so reluctant to move the process forward? The reason is simple: most have no incentive to. In fact, if anything the reverse is the case.
From the perspective of many of our politicians, the real temptation must be to try and ensure that things remain just as they are.
We have moved so far beyond armed conflict that there is now little or no prospect of a return to anything approaching previous levels of violence; three governments (the world's only remaining superpower amongst them, if you please) still dance to our attention; and rivers of "peace" money continue to flow in.
The full extent of the indisputable damage all this unearned money has done to our private-sector economy will only become clear when, as some time they must, the cash rivers run dry.
Direct-rule ministers are still in place, so our politicians can avoid public flak over unpopular decisions regarding the necessary rebuilding of Northern Ireland's almost entire infrastructure.
The outcry following this week's announcement that water charges are to be introduced was a good example of that.
And there are many other awkward and costly little undertakings still to be presented: roads, railways, sewerage, education and healthcare to name but a few. None of the peace money has, or is ever likely to be, directed towards easing the cost of upgrading our vital services.
The public will be picking up the tab for it all and some politician is going to have to break the news to them: the Northern Ireland variety will, if possible, always steer well clear of upsetting anyone who might conceivably vote for them.
In short, our politicians are sitting in a comfort zone that lies beyond conflict but short of a final settlement: they enjoy all of the benefits, and lots more besides, that come with elected office, but shoulder none of the responsibilities and feel no need to take any of the risks.
To be fair, Sinn Féin seems more interested in a deal than the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP). That's only to be expected when one considers how much Sinn Féin has invested in both the peace and political processes.
Republicans have brought their core constituency quite a distance over the past 15 years or so and must be under a deal of pressure to justify the stretch.
Ministerial positions in a Northern Ireland executive would go some way towards easing that. The DUP, on the other hand, has invested little or nothing in either process and has boosted its electoral mandate on a promise that it would alter beyond recognition the Belfast Agreement. Those unionist electors who deserted David Trimble's pro-agreement position to seek comfort in the welcoming and unbending arms of the DUP, presumed, not unreasonably I suppose, that this promise meant no executive power-sharing with Sinn Féin.
If, by some miracle, agreement were to be reached at Leeds Castle, the DUP will have some job explaining that little flip-flop to large sections of its electorate - not least to the traditional redneck strand as well as to its newly acquired constituency. This week the Irish News quoted a Downing Street spokesperson as saying: "The key remains whether the will is there to do it [a deal] on both sides".
Though more a statement of the bleeding obvious than anything designed to enlighten, that little line still gives a clue to what ails the whole process. The governments should be making certain "the will is there to do it on both sides" and they can only do that by making this side of an agreement distinctly uncomfortable for all concerned. By comparison, any comfort zone to be found should be firmly anchored on the other side of a settlement. In the absence of any agreement this weekend, the immediate shutting down of Stormont and the halting of payments to MLAs would be a start, but only a start.
Financial assistance and all the other perks associated with peace building, should, in future, go only to those who are genuinely engaged in just that - building peace. While things remain more comfortable short of a settlement that's where our politicians will stay.