The Complete Yes Minister

hastily.

‘That is, not entirely false. But misleading. Open to misinterpretation.’

I faced him with a straight question. ‘The fact is, you’re just trying to keep things from me, aren’t you, Humphrey?’

He was indignant. ‘Absolutely not, Minister. Records must be kept. You won’t be here forever, nor will we. In years to come it may be vital to know what you were told. If Cartwright were moved tomorrow, how could we check on your information?’

On the face of it, that was a specious argument. ‘Cartwright isn’t being moved tomorrow,’ I said.

‘Oh, isn’t he?’ came the insolent response.

Bernard interrupted us. Alex Andrews of The Mail wanted to do an interview with me for tomorrow. I agreed of course. I told Bernard to stay with us and minute our conversation. Humphrey had given me his views on my private meeting with Cartwright. Now he was going to hear mine.

I began by repeating what Cartwright had told me: namely, that in his opinion – and the opinion of everyone who knows anything about local government – the South-West Derbyshire County Council is the most efficient in the country.

‘Inefficient, I think he means, Minister.’

‘Efficient, Humphrey. Effective. Economical. They’re just not particularly interested in sending pieces of blue paper to Whitehall.’

Humphrey then explained something that I hadn’t quite grasped yet. Apparently they have to return those sodding blue forms, it’s a statutory requirement.

And we know why. We know who decreed that it should be so.

Even so, statutory requirements can be overlooked occasionally. Discretion can be exercised. So I asked Humphrey what happens if they don’t send in their blue forms. South-West Derbyshire carries on, rather well apparently.

‘But,’ said Humphrey, not seeing at all what I was getting at, ‘if they don’t send us the information and plans and requests for permission, well, what are we here for?’

An excellent question, as I told him immediately. I asked it at once. ‘What are we here for?’

‘To collate the information, inspect the plans, and grant or withhold permission.’

‘And if we didn’t?’ I asked.

He gazed at me studiously. I might have been talking Ancient Chinese, for all the sense I was making to him.

‘I’m sorry, Minister, I don’t understand.’

I persevered. ‘If we didn’t. If we weren’t here and we didn’t do it – then what?’

‘I’m sorry, Minister, you’ve lost me.’

Yet again, Humphrey demonstrates that his trouble is that he is concerned with means and not ends.

[Many civil servants of the time deflected criticisms about ends and means by stating flippantly that the only ends in administration are loose ends. If administration is viewed in a vacuum this is, of course, true. Administration can have no end in itself, and is eternal. For ever and ever, amen – Ed.]

[Hacker’s diary continues – Ed.]

The upshot of the whole argument was that I refused to discipline the most efficient local authority in Britain, on the grounds that I would look like an idiot if I did.

Sir Humphrey told me that was my job. I think he meant to discipline South-West Derbyshire, rather than to look like an idiot, but I’m not certain. He said that I had no alternative to consider, no discretion to exercise, and that the Treasury and the Cabinet Office insist.

[By Cabinet Office Sir Humphrey clearly meant the Cabinet Secretary rather than the PM. But he could never have said so – the fiction had to be preserved that Britain was governed by Ministers who told civil servants what to do, not vice versa – Ed.]

I still refused to co-operate.

‘Minister. You don’t seem to understand. It’s not up to you or me. It’s the law.’

And there we left it. I felt a bit like a dog refusing to go for a walk – sitting down and digging in my paws while being dragged along the pavement on my bottom.

But there must be some way out. The more I think of it, the less willing I am to discipline that council until there is really no alternative.

And the more I think of it, the more I conclude that Bernard must have told Humphrey that I’d gone to talk to Cartwright.

November 18th

I had no free time to talk to Bernard on his own yesterday.

But first thing this morning, while I was doing my letters, I had a serious word with Bernard. I asked him how Humphrey had found out yesterday that I was with Cartwright.

‘God moves in a mysterious way,’ he said earnestly.