The Complete Yes Minister

I was staggered. Twenty-three thousand people? In the Department of Administrative Affairs? Twenty-three thousand administrators, all to administer other administrators?

‘We’ll have to do an O & M,’ I said. [Organisation and Method Study – Ed.] ‘See how many we can do without.’

‘We did one of those last year,’ said Sir Humphrey blandly. ‘And we discovered we needed another five hundred people. However, Minister, we could always close your Bureaucratic Watchdog Department.’¹

I’d been expecting this. I know Humphrey doesn’t like it. How could he? But we are not cutting it. Firstly, it’s a very popular measure with the voters. And secondly, it’s the only thing I’ve achieved since I’ve been here.

‘It is a chance for the ordinary citizen to help us find ways to stop wasting government money,’ I reiterated.

‘The public,’ said Sir Humphrey, ‘do not know anything about wasting public money. We are the experts.’

I grinned. ‘Can I have that in writing?’

Humphrey got very tetchy. ‘You know that’s not what I meant,’ he snapped. ‘The Watchdog Office is merely a troublemaker’s letter box.’

‘It stays,’ I replied.

We gazed at each other, icily. Finally Sir Humphrey said: ‘Well, offhand, I don’t know what other economies to suggest.’

This was ludicrous. ‘Are you seriously trying to tell me,’ I asked, ‘that there’s nothing we can cut down on?’

He shrugged. ‘Well . . . I suppose we could lose one or two of the tea ladies.’

I exploded again. I told him not to be ridiculous. I told him I wanted facts, answers. I listed them:

How many people work here?

What do they all do?

How many buildings do we have?

Who and what is in these buildings?

I spelt it out. I demanded a complete study. First of all we’ll put our own house in order. Then we’ll deal with the rest of Whitehall. With a complete study, we’ll be able to see where to cut costs, cut staff, and cut procedures.

Sir Humphrey listened with some impatience. ‘The Civil Service, Minister,’ he responded when I paused for breath, ‘merely exists to implement legislation that is enacted by Parliament. So long as Parliament continues to legislate for more and more control over people’s lives, the Civil Service must grow.’

‘Ha!’ Frank made a derisive noise.

Sir Humphrey turned towards him with a glassy stare. ‘Am I to infer that Mr Weisel disagrees with me?’

‘Ha!’ repeated Frank.

Frank was getting on my nerves too. ‘Frank, either laugh thoroughly, or not at all,’ I instructed.

‘Minister.’ Humphrey stood up. ‘I am fully seized of your requirements, so if you’ll excuse me I think I’d better set the wheels in motion.’

After Sir H. left Frank told me that there was a cover-up going on. Apparently a North-West Regional controller has achieved cuts of ?32 million in his region alone. And the Civil Service has suppressed news of it. I asked why. ‘They don’t want cuts,’ said Frank impatiently. ‘Asking Sir Humphrey to slim down the Civil Service is like asking an alcoholic to blow up a distillery.’

I asked Bernard if this story were true. Bernard said that he didn’t know, but, if so, he would be aghast. I asked them both to check up on it. Bernard said he’d find out through the grapevine, and I arranged with Frank to do some more ferreting.

[Sometime in the next few days Bernard Woolley had an interview with Sir Humphrey Appleby. Sir Humphrey wrote a memo following the meeting, which we found in the DAA Personnel Files at Walthamstow – Ed.]

Woolley came at 5.15 p.m. to discuss the ?32 million saved by the NW controller. I remarked that I was aghast.

Woolley said he also was aghast, and that it was incredible that we knew nothing of this.

He sometimes reveals himself as worryingly naif. I, of course, know all about it. I am merely aghast that it has got out. It might result in our getting less money from the Treasury in next year’s PESC review. [PESC is the Public Expenditure Scrutiny Committee – Ed.]

I felt I would learn more about Bernard Woolley if I made the conversation informal. [To do so, Sir Humphrey would have moved from behind his desk to the conversation area, remarking that it was after 5.30 p.m. and offering Woolley a sherry – Ed.] Then I asked him why he was looking worried. He revealed that he genuinely wanted the DAA to save money.

This was shocking. Clearly he has not yet grasped the fundamentals of our work.

There has to be some way to measure success in the Service. British Leyland can measure success by the size of its profits. [British Leyland was the name of the car manufacturer into which billions of pounds of taxpayers’ money was paid in the 1980s in an attempt to produce full employment in the West Midlands. To be more accurate, BL measured its failure by the size of its losses – Ed.] However, the Civil Service does not make profits or losses. Ergo, we measure success by the size of our staff and our budget. By definition a big department is more successful than a small one. It seems extraordinary that Woolley could have passed through the Civil Service College without having understood that this simple proposition is the