The Complete Yes Minister

The incident in question only came to light slowly. The first reference that we can find to it is not in Jim Hacker’s diary, but in Steel Yourself, the memoirs of that uniquely outspoken Chairman of the British Chemical Corporation, the diminutive Glaswegian industrialist and scientist, Sir Wally McFarland.

McFarland was known for his plain language and his unwillingness to bow to government interference in his nationalised industry. He was an expert both on chemicals and on business management – and he believed (rightly) that Hacker knew little or nothing about either. His low regard for Hacker was matched only by his contempt for Sir Humphrey’s skill in business. Like many businessmen, he believed that in commerce the Civil Service was not safe with a whelk stall – Ed.]

From Steel Yourself:

On 16 April I had a meeting with Sir Humphrey Appleby at the Department of Administrative Affairs. It was the umpteenth meeting on the subject of the manufacture of Propanol on Merseyside under licence from the Italian Government.

To my astonishment Sir Humphrey seemed to indicate that there might be a problem with the Minister, but his language was as opaque as usual and I could not be sure of this.

I asked him if he was havering [Scottish word, meaning to be indecisive – Ed.]. He denied it, but said that we cannot take the Minister’s approval for granted.

This was and still is incomprehensible to me. The Italian government was offering us a massive contract to manufacture Propanol at our Merseyside plant. This contract meant saving a plant which we would otherwise have to close down. It meant taking people on, instead of laying them off. And it meant big export royalties. We’d been fighting for two years to win it against tough German and US competition. It seemed completely obvious that it had to go ahead.

Appleby raised some footling idiotic question about what the Minister might think. In my experience Ministers don’t think. In my ten years as Chairman of the BCC I dealt with nineteen different Ministers. They never stopped to think, even if they possessed the basic intelligence necessary for thought – which several of them did not. As a matter of fact, they were usually too lazy to talk to me because they were usually talking to the trade union leaders and bribing them not to strike.

I told Appleby my views. He denied that trade union leaders were bribed. Naturally. It may not be technically bribery, but what else do you call conversations that amount to ‘Have a quango, Tom. Have a knighthood, Dick. Have a peerage, Harry’?

Appleby said that the Minister was worried about the Propanol scheme. If so, why hadn’t anything been said till now?

At this stage I – unwisely, perhaps – brushed aside suggestions that the Minister was worried. He’d never shown any real interest in the scheme, so he could know nothing about it. Naively, I assumed that his ignorance would prevent him interfering. And, in any case, all Ministers are worried. I never met a Minister who wasn’t worried.

Ministers worry whenever you do anything that is bold. Anything that makes business sense. Anything that is necessary, in fact. If I had never done anything to worry any of those lily-livered, vote- grubbing, baby-kissing jellies the BCC would have gone down the tube ten years earlier than it did.

Appleby said that the Minister’s worries centred on the fact that Propanol contained Metadioxin. [Dioxin was the chemical released in the accident at Seveso, Italy, some years earlier. It was believed to cause damage to the foetus – Ed.] This was typical. Metadioxin is completely different, an inert compound. It had a clean bill of health from the FDA [Food and Drugs Administration – Ed.] in Washington. And the Henderson Committee was about to approve it.

Nonetheless, I could see that Appleby, in all his ignorance of chemistry, was still a little worried. Or else he was reflecting Hacker’s worries.

I added that the name metadioxin was now not in the proposal. The chemical was simply called Propanol, making it politically safe.

Our meeting concluded with Appleby offering assurances that the Minister was unlikely to raise any objections, as long as the matter was handled with tact. I offered to go along myself, and have a tactful word with Hacker, and persuade that egotistical blancmange that there could be no argument on the matter.

Appleby declined my offer, and answered that he would be able to manage without what he generously called my unique and refreshing brand of tact.

I was not so sure. And, again, I was locked out of the crucial meeting.

Why do governments continually hire experts to run nationalised industries on business lines, and then interfere every time you try to make a business decision?

[Hacker’s diary continues – Ed.]

June 4th

This morning Humphrey gave me some wonderful news. Or what appeared to be wonderful news.

He handed me a paper which summarised a new industrial scheme for Merseyside. In a nutshell, the plan is to turn a run-down chemical plant into one of the most profitable units in the British Chemical Corporation. Overnight it will make the BCC into the largest manufacturer of Propanol in Europe.

The benefits would be immense: capital equipment to be made in British factories, additional rateable income for the Local Authority, new jobs on Merseyside, foreign exchange from the exports, it all seemed too good to be true.

I said so.

‘But it is true, Minister,’ said Sir Humphrey, beaming.

How could it be, I asked myself. Then I asked myself, what’s the point of asking myself? So I asked Humphrey.

‘How could it be?’ I asked. ‘What’s the snag?’