The Complete Yes Minister

It seems that the PM is entranced by the idea, on the grounds that it is neat, clean, dramatic, and will be politically popular.

The plan is that all the DAA’s functions will be subsumed by other departments.

And my fate? Apparently it is to be presented to the press and public that I have won through with a public- spirited self-sacrificing policy, and I’m to be kicked upstairs to the Lords.

Donald Hughes, rubbing salt in the wound, apparently described it as ‘approbation, elevation and castration, all in one stroke’. It seems he suggested that I should take the title Lord Hacker of Kamikaze.

Apparently Hughes was very pleased with himself, and with this plan, presumably because of his own crusade against Civil Service extravagance, bureaucracy and waste. Ironically, I agree with him on all that – but not at the expense of my job, thank you very much.

This certainly confirms my instincts, that some political Cabinet in-fighting was due to start up again, and clearly we have a huge fight on our hands. Everyone’s against us. The Perm. Secs of the Treasury, Home Office and Civil Service Department all stand to gain more power and influence. So do my Cabinet colleagues running those departments. And, of course, I always knew that the DAA was a political graveyard and that the PM might have been handing me a poisoned chalice – after all, I did run Martin’s leadership campaign against the PM – whose motto, incidentally, is ‘In Defeat, Malice – in Victory, Revenge!’

It seems that Donald Hughes, to do him justice, also pointed out that Humphrey would also be on the way out. ‘There’s a Job Centre in the Horseferry Road,’ he had said maliciously. ‘The number 19 stops right outside.’

This is the only remotely amusing thing I’ve heard in the last twenty-four hours. I shouldn’t think Humphrey’s been on a bus since he left Oxford.

So when Humphrey brought me up-to-date this morning, I was appalled. I could hardly believe it at first. I told Humphrey I was appalled.

‘You’re appalled?’ he said. ‘I’m appalled.’

Bernard said he was appalled, too.

And, there’s no doubt about it, the situation is appalling.

I have no doubt that the situation is as described by Sir Humphrey as described by Donald Hughes. It rings true. And Humphrey, yesterday, saw the joint Departmental proposal made by the Treasury, Home Office and Civil Service Department. And Hughes is very close to the PM too, so he must know what’s going on.

I asked Humphrey if I’d get another job, whether or not I was sent to the Lords. And, incidentally, I shall definitely refuse a peerage if it is offered.

‘There is a rumour,’ replied Sir Humphrey gravely, ‘of a new post. Minister with general responsibility for Industrial Harmony.’

This was the worst news yet. Industrial Harmony. That means strikes.²

From now on, every strike in Britain will be my fault. Marvellous!

I pondered this for some moments. My reverie was interrupted by Sir Humphrey enquiring in a sepulchral tone: ‘Have you considered what might happen to me, Minister? I’ll probably be sent to Ag. and Fish. The rest of my career dedicated to arguing about the cod quota.’

Bernard dared to smile a little smile, and Humphrey turned on him. ‘And as for you, young man, if your Minister bites the dust your reputation as a flyer – such as it is – will be hit for six. You’ll probably spend the rest of your career in the Vehicle Licensing Centre in Swansea.’

‘My God,’ said Bernard quietly.

We sat in silence, lost in our own tragic thoughts, for some considerable time. I heaved a sigh. So did Humphrey. Then Bernard.

Of course, the whole thing is Sir Humphrey’s fault. Reducing the number of autonomous government departments was an idiotic proposal, playing right into the hands of our enemies. I said so. He replied that it was all my fault, because of my proposal to the Think-Tank to carry out the phased reduction of the Civil Service.

I pooh-poohed this as a ridiculous suggestion because the Think-Tank hasn’t even seen our report yet. But Humphrey revealed that the Party sent an advance copy to the PM from Central House.

So perhaps we’ve both dropped ourselves in it. Anyway, there was no point in arguing about it, and I asked Humphrey for suggestions.

There was another gloomy silence.

‘We could put a paper up,’ he said finally.

‘Up what?’ I asked. Brilliant!

Humphrey asked me if I had any suggestions. I hadn’t. We turned to Bernard.

‘What do you think, Bernard?’

‘I think it’s appalling,’ he repeated. A lot of use he is.

Then Humphrey proposed that we work together on this. This was a novel suggestion, to say the least. I thought his job was to work with me on all occasions. This seemed like an admission. Furthermore, his idea of our working together is generally that he tells me what to do, and I then do it. And look where it’s got us!

However, I asked him what he had to suggest.

‘With respect, Minister,’ he began. This was too much. I told him not to use that insulting language to me ever again! Clearly he was about to imply that anything I had to say on the subject would be beneath contempt.

But Humphrey reiterated that he really meant that we should work together. ‘I need you,’ he said.