The Complete Yes Minister

streamline this creaking old bureaucratic machine. We are going to have a clean sweep. There are far too many useless people just sitting behind desks.’

I became aware that I was actually sitting behind a desk, but I’m sure that they realised that I was not referring to myself.

I explained that we had to start by getting rid of people who just make work for each other. Sir Humphrey was very helpful, and suggested that I mean redeploy them – which, I suppose, is what I do mean. I certainly want to reduce overmanning, but I don’t actually want to be responsible for putting people out of work.

But, by the clean sweep and the new broom, I mean that we must have more Open Government. We made election pledges about this, and I intend to keep them. We must take the nation into our confidence. I said all this to Humphrey and Bernard who, to my surprise, were wholeheartedly in favour of these ideas.

Humphrey referred to my speeches on this subject in the House last year. And he referred to my Observer article, Daily Mail interview, and the manifesto.

I am most impressed that he knows so much about me.

Humphrey then produced draft proposals, to implement my policy in a White Paper. I was flabbergasted. The efficiency of the Civil Service is quite astounding. They even plan, Sir Humphrey tells me, to call the White Paper ‘Open Government’.

All of these draft proposals are available to me within thirty-six hours of the new government being elected and within minutes of my arrival at my office. And on a weekend! Remarkable chaps. I asked Humphrey who had done all this.

‘The creaking old bureaucratic machine,’ he replied with a smile. ‘No seriously, Minister, we are fully seized of the need for reform and we have taken it on board.’

I told him I was slightly surprised.

‘I thought I’d have to fight you all the way,’ I said.

Sir Humphrey remarked that people have funny ideas about the Civil Service.

‘We are just here to help you formulate and implement your policies,’ he explained.

He seems most sincere.

The draft proposals, which I have brought home tonight to my London flat in a red box, include ‘Proposals for Shortening Approval Procedures in Planning Appeals’. Excellent. Sir Humphrey was able to quote from Hansard the rather amusing question which I’d asked earlier this year in the House:

[Actually they cried ‘Bollocks’ – Ed.]

As it’s Saturday, we have arranged to start things properly on Monday morning. But they’ve given me six red boxes for the weekend, four to be completed by tonight and two more tomorrow. Bernard tells me that the previous Minister got a bit slack about the paperwork, especially during the election campaign.

I’m certainly not going to be slack! I shall be a good Minister. I shall read everything they give me to read.

October 26th

I read all my boxes over the weekend. It took about nine hours. I caught the 7.15 a.m. train to Euston, the official car met me, and I was in the office by 9.20.

All the draft proposals for Open Government are superficially pretty impressive, but I happen to know that the Civil Service is pretty good at delaying tactics. I mentioned this to Humphrey at a meeting today. I think he’s getting to know who’s boss around here.

But first things first. The day started with the diary. I found to my surprise that there were numerous appointments in it already. I asked how this was possible, since they didn’t even know who would win the election.

Bernard said: ‘We knew there’d be a Minister, Minister.’ I told him not to start that again.

Sir Humphrey explained, ‘Her Majesty likes the business of government to continue, even when there are no politicians around.’

‘Isn’t that very difficult?’ I asked.

‘Yes . . . and no,’ said Humphrey. I must say, I can’t see how it’s possible to govern without the politicians. I’m afraid that Humphrey might have delusions of grandeur . . .

My diary was pretty frightening. Cabinet at 10 on Thursday. Nine Cabinet committees this week. A speech to the Law Institute tomorrow night, a deputation from the British Computer Association at 10.30 tomorrow morning, University Vice-Chancellors lunch on Wednesday (another speech), opening the National Conference of Public Employers on Thursday morning (another speech), and so on.

I noticed that everything in the diary is in pencil, so presumably much of it can be and will be changed. I pointed out to Bernard that I have various other commitments.

Bernard looked puzzled. ‘Such as?’ he asked.

‘Well . . . I’m on four policy committees of the party, for a start.’

‘I’m sure you won’t be wanting to put party before country,’ said Sir Humphrey. I had never looked at it in that light. Of course, he’s absolutely right.

They were going to give me three more red boxes for tonight, by the way. When I jibbed at this a bit, Sir Humphrey explained that there are a lot of decisions to take and announcements to approve. He then tried something on, by saying: ‘But we could, in fact, minimise the work so that you need only take the major policy decisions.’