The Complete Yes Minister

Department’s budget, accommodation and staffing. Obviously they must all be increased now that we have all those extra responsibilities.’

I was even more patronising in my response. ‘No Humphrey, I’m afraid you misunderstand.’ I told him that local government is a ghastly mess, and that I was asking what we were going to do to improve it, to make it more efficient and economical.

He didn’t answer my question. He hesitated momentarily, and then tried to divert me with flattery. ‘Minister, this new remit gives you more influence, more Cabinet seniority – but you do not have to let it give you any more work or worry. That would be foolishness.’

Nowadays I find I’m able to resist his blandishments very easily. Stubbornly I repeated that we have to put a stop to all this ghastly waste and extravagance that’s going on.

‘Why?’ he asked.

I was staggered. ‘Why?’

‘Yes. Why?’

‘Because it’s my job, we’re the government, we were elected to govern.’

‘Minister, surely you don’t intend to tamper with the democratic rights of freely-elected local government representatives?’

Humphrey’s new-found interest in democracy surprised me slightly. For a moment I couldn’t think of an answer to what sounded like a perfectly reasonable point. And then it became clear. There is no competition between local government and Westminster – local authorities are given their powers by Westminster. They must act accordingly. Parliament is supreme. We live in a Parliamentary democracy. And there was another aspect to this.

‘Local councils aren’t democratic at all,’ I said. ‘Local democracy is a farce. Nobody knows who their local councillor is. Most people don’t even vote in local elections. And the ones who do, just treat it as a popularity poll on the government in Westminster. Councillors, in practice, are accountable to nobody.’

He looked po-faced. ‘They are public-spirited citizens, selflessly sacrificing their spare time.’

‘Have you ever met any?’ I enquired.

‘Occasionally. When there was no alternative,’ he replied, with one of his occasional flashes of honesty.

‘I’ve met plenty of them. Half of them are self-important busybodies on an ego trip and the other half are in it for what they can get out of it.’

‘Perhaps they ought to be in the House of Commons,’ said Humphrey.

I think I must have given him a dirty look, because he added hastily, ‘I mean, to see how a proper legislative assembly behaves.’

I decided that we’d done enough beating about the bush. I told Humphrey that I intended to get a grip on these local councils. And I announced that I had a plan.

He smiled a supercilious smile. ‘You have a plan?’

I told him that I was going to insist that any council official who puts up a project costing over ?10,000 must accompany it with failure standards.

‘With what?’

‘With a statement,’ I said, ‘that he will have failed if his project does not achieve certain pre-set results or exceeds fixed time or staff or budget limits.’

I had hoped, faintly, that he would think this was my idea. No such luck.

‘Minister,’ he demanded, ‘where did you get the idea for this dangerous nonsense?’

I could see that Dr Cartwright needed my protection. ‘From someone in the Department,’ I replied evasively.

He exploded. ‘Minister, I have warned you before about the dangers of talking to people in the Department. I implore you to stay out of the minefield of local government. It is a political graveyard.’

Bernard intervened. Just as nature abhors a vacuum, Bernard abominates a mixed metaphor. ‘Actually, Sir Humphrey,’ he explained confidentially, ‘you can’t have a graveyard in a minefield because all the corpses would . . .’ and he made a vague explosion gesture. Humphrey gave him a look which reduced him to silence.

I was more immediately interested in why Humphrey, who has been claiming that he got me this local government job, is now saying that it’s a minefield and a graveyard. Was this a friendly act?

‘Well, what am I supposed to do?’ I asked.

‘Um . . . yes, well . . . quite honestly, Minister, I didn’t think you’d do anything. I mean, you’ve never done anything before.’

I brushed aside the insult and the complaints. I told him I wanted specific proposals right away, and immediate plans for the implementation of failure standards by local authorities. I couldn’t see why he was getting so worked up about it – and then, the penny dropped: these failure standards could be made to apply to Whitehall as well.

I’d just started to say something along those lines when Humphrey made a chance remark that immediately caught my attention.

‘Minister, if you insist in interfering in local government, may I make a positive suggestion that could prove a very real vote-winner?’

I always try to make time to listen to a positive suggestion.