With two wide-ranging reviews underway into the state of cricket in Australia, a repeat of this season's dismal Ashes and World Cup fiascos should hopefully be confined to history. As former captains, and Australians of the Year, Allan Border, Mark Taylor and Steve Waugh trawl through the wreckage of 2010-11, one area I hope they identify for improvement is an increase in the number of Australians wintering in the English County Championship.

This year, only three Australians are contracted to County Championship sides for the duration of the English summer: Test aspirant, Andrew McDonald, and veterans, Chris Rogers and Michel Di Venuto. A further three, all likely Test and ODI squad members, Usman Khawaja, Adam Voges and David Hussey, hold contracts for around half the season. Mark Cosgrove and Shaun Tait will be wheeled out just for the English T20 competition.

By comparison, during the 2006 season (when counties were allowed to sign two overseas players) the list of Australians plying their trade in the northern hemisphere included: Travis Birt, Mark Cosgrove, Dan Cullen, Michael Di Venuto, Jason Gillespie, Ian Harvey, Brad Hodge, David Hussey, Phil Jaques, Stuart Law, Darren Lehmann, Mick Lewis, Jimmy Maher, Matt Mason, Matthew Nicholson, Corey Richards, Chris Rogers, Dominic Thornely, Callum Thorp, Shane Warne and Cameron White.

Pick almost any year at random from the last 20 and you will find an Australian batsman, usually one on the fringes of the Test side, at the top of the run-scoring charts in the English domestic league. A good example of this is 2001, when, despite Australia undertaking a full Ashes tour and the cream of Australia's crop wearing baggy greens, five of the top nine run scorers in Division One of the County Championship were Australian.

It is my view that exposure to Duke balls, green wickets and interminable rain-interrupted contests can only benefit an Australian cricketer's education. It teaches batsmen to play on pitches they are unaccustomed to finding in their home states, against balls that deviate appreciably in the air and against opponents they are expected to dominate.

If nothing else, the sheer volume of cricket demanded by the county circuit forces a player to learn about their game, and even more about themselves, in the most illuminating of environments: the middle.

It is no coincidence that the likes of Mike Hussey and Darren Lehmann, to name just two, adapted so successfully to the game's highest level, because they had harnessed the English system for years. Examples of the current generation's Husseys and Lehmanns, the best of the rest if you like, are dominated by exciting talents who lack the same finessed understanding of their own performances to take their abilities to the next level.

The obvious example here is Steve Smith.

A promising batsman and capable bowler, to the outside observer, Smith is a bits-and-pieces filler in the Australian set up. Not trusted to bat in the top six or bowl in the frontline, Smith is in the side because he has been earmarked for greatness under the assumption his development is best served in elite company. I disagree; and his selection seems to be having the opposite to the desired effect.

During this summer's Ashes and World Cup, his captain would not trust him with either bat or ball despite golden opportunities to showcase his talents. Neither Smith, nor his captain, could be confident what performance the young all-rounder was going to produce. They just did not know his game well enough to be sure.

Disappointingly, Smith is straight into another meaningless ODI series in Bangladesh, with the possibility of an IPL slogfest to follow. How is that going to correct the obvious flaws in his game? He needs a period of consistent long-format cricket, where he can learn to master his technique and its application.

With the right county and the right captain, Smith can bowl 20-plus overs per match, without needing to concern himself greatly with his return. He can bat in the top five and acclimatise to the pressure of having to dominate an attack, not just chip in when overs and wickets are in limited supply. In short, he can find out what his game looks like when given the freedom to flourish at its natural pace, rather than in the hothouses of the international and IPL arenas.

To enable Smith to take such steps requires the leadership of Cricket Australia. The Future Tours programme, as well as the slavish commitment to T20 and the lucrative Indian market, means that for a contracted figure such as Smith to commit to the county game, he needs to do so with the support of the Australian hierarchy. He needs excusing from pointless revenue-raising tours. He needs a long-term personal development strategy that extends beyond whatever upcoming series is next on the interminable agenda. He needs to be helped, better still encouraged, to learn his game, in the middle, with the time to make mistakes and find out what his game, unfettered by short-term demands, actually looks like.

Only then will he and his generation be able to pull their country out of an avoidable nosedive and return Australia to world cricket's top table. The alternative is what we are currently enduring: a succession of talented but ultimately fragile characters who go well when conditions and form favour them, but are exposed at other times.

For generations, Shield cricket has been the proving ground for talent and the County Championship the finishing school. A reduction in the number of Australians with English experience serves only to highlight the misuse of talent of which the current system is becoming increasingly culpable.