The Complete Yes Minister

‘So,’ I continued, searching for agreement, ‘we’re all on the same side, aren’t we?’

‘Indeed we are/quite so/absolutely no question,’ replied Richard, Piers and Graham roughly in concert.

‘And,’ I went on patiently, ‘we are trying to find out what’s best for Britain.’

Piers put up his hand. I nodded at him. ‘Through the chair,’ he said, ‘I hardly think the end of the national air freight business is best for Britain?’

Our truce had lasted a mere twenty seconds. The war was on again. ‘I find it hard to see how Britain is saved by the destruction of the railways,’ Richard remarked bitterly.

And Graham, not to be outdone, added with heavy sarcasm that it was not immediately apparent to him how Britain would benefit from a rapid deterioration of the road network.

Again I took a lead. I explained that I was merely trying to examine a few policy options for the government’s own freight transport needs. And that therefore I had thought that a preliminary chat with a few friends, advisers, around the table, could lead to some positive, constructive suggestions.

I should not have wasted my breath. The positive constructive suggestions were somewhat predictable. Richard promptly suggested a firm commitment to rail transport, Graham a significant investment in motorway construction, and Piers a meaningful expansion of air freight capacity!

So at this point I explained that my overall brief is, among other things, to achieve an overall cut in expenditure.

‘In that case,’ said Richard grimly, ‘there is only one possible course.’

‘Indeed there is,’ snapped Graham.

‘And there can be no doubt what it is,’ Piers added in an icy tone.

They all eyed each other, and me. I was stuck. Sir Humphrey came to the rescue.

‘Good,’ he said with a cheerful smile, ‘I always like to end a meeting on a note of agreement. Thank you, gentlemen.’

And they filed out.

The meeting is the sort that would be described in a communique as ‘frank’. Or even ‘frank, bordering on direct’, which means that the cleaners have to mop up the blood in the morning.

SIR BERNARD WOOLLEY RECALLS:⁴

The Minister found his meeting with the three Under-Secretaries confusing. This was because of his failure to understand the role of the Civil Service in making policy.

The three Under-Secretaries whom we met that morning were, in effect, counsel briefed by the various transport interests to resist any aspects of government policy that might have been unfavourable to their clients.

This is how the Civil Service in the 1980s actually worked in practice. In fact, all government departments – which in theory collectively represented the government to the outside world – in fact lobbied the government on behalf of their own client pressure group. In other words, each Department of State was actually controlled by the people whom it was supposed to be controlling.

Why – for instance – had we got comprehensive education throughout the UK? Who wanted it? The pupils? The parents? Not particularly.

The actual pressure came from the National Union of Teachers, who were the chief client of the DES.⁵ So the DES went comprehensive.

Every Department acted for the powerful sectional interest with whom it had a permanent relationship. The Department of Employment lobbied for the TUC, whereas the Department of Industry lobbied for the employers. It was actually rather a nice balance: Energy lobbied for the oil companies, Defence lobbied for the armed forces, the Home Office for the police, and so on.

In effect, the system was designed to prevent the Cabinet from carrying out its policy. Well, somebody had to.

Thus a national transport policy meant fighting the whole of the Civil Service, as well as the other vested interests.

If I may just digress for a moment or two, this system of ‘checks and balances’, as the Americans would call it, makes nonsense of the oft-repeated criticism that the Civil Service was right wing. Or left wing. Or any other wing. The Department of Defence, whose clients were military, was – as you would expect – right wing. The DHSS, on the other hand, whose clients were the needy, the underprivileged and the social workers, was (predictably) left wing. Industry, looking after the Employers, was right wing – and Employment (looking after the unemployed, of course) was left wing. The Home Office was right wing, as its clients were the Police, the Prison Service and the Immigration chaps. And Education, as I’ve already remarked, was left wing.

You may ask: What were we at the DAA? In fact, we were neither right nor left. Our main client was the Civil Service itself, and therefore our real interest was in defending the Civil Service against the Government.

Strict constitutional theory holds that the Civil Service should be committed to carrying out the Government’s wishes. And so it was, as long as the Government’s wishes were practicable. By which we meant, as long as we thought they were practicable. After all, how else can you judge?

[Hacker’s diary continues – Ed.]

August 19th

Today Humphrey and I discussed Wednesday’s meeting.

And it was now clear to me that I had to get out of the commitment that I had made. Quite clearly, Transport Supremo is a title that’s not worth having.