The Complete Yes Minister

I didn’t know, of course. Humphrey sailed into the rescue. ‘It’s very simple,’ he replied grandly. ‘Metadioxin is an inert compound of dioxin.’

I hoped that that would be that. But no.

She looked at me for help. I, of course, was unable to give her any. So I looked at Humphrey.

‘Um, Humphrey,’ I said, bluffing madly, ‘I think I follow that but, er, could you, er, just explain that a little more clearly?’

He stared at me, coldly. ‘In what sense, Minister?’

I didn’t know where to start. I was going to have to think of the right question again. But Joan said: ‘What does inert mean?’

Sir Humphrey stared at her, silently. And in that glorious moment I suddenly realised that he had no idea what he was talking about either.

‘Well,’ he said eventually, ‘inert means that . . . it’s not . . . ert.’

We all stared at each other in silence.

‘Ah,’ said Joan Littler.

‘Ah,’ I said.

‘Wouldn’t ’ert a fly,’ muttered Bernard. At least, I think that’s what he said, but when I asked him to repeat it he refused and fell silent.

And again, Joan Littler persisted.

‘But,’ she pressed me, ‘what does that mean in practical terms?’

‘You mean, chemically?’ I asked her. My degree is in economics.

‘Yes, chemically,’ she said.

Again, I turned to Humphrey. ‘Yes,’ I said, beginning to enjoy myself, ‘what does it mean chemically, Humphrey?’

His eyes spun. Bluffing magnificently, he said in his most patronising voice, ‘Well, I’m not sure that I can explain in layman’s language, Minister.’

I called the bluff. ‘Do you know any chemistry, Humphrey?’ I enquired.

‘Of course not, Minister. I was in the Scholarship form.’

[At any English public school – ‘public’ meaning ‘private’, of course – the scholarship form would have meant the classics form. Indeed, if you went to a very good school indeed you might avoid learning any science at all – Ed.]

‘And while we’re at it,’ continued Joan Littler, ‘what’s a compound?’

‘You don’t know any chemistry either?’

‘No,’ she replied. ‘Do you?’

Suddenly, this all seemed awfully funny. None of us knew anything about the matter we were discussing. Joan, Humphrey, Bernard and I, all charged with a vital decision on a matter of government policy – and you couldn’t have found four people anywhere in the UK who understood less about it.

[It is significant that none of those present thought of telephoning Sir Wally McFarland. But then, he was merely the expert, and the chairman of the Nationalised Industry in question – Ed.]

I grinned, embarrassed, like a naughty schoolboy. ‘We ought to know something about inert compounds, oughtn’t we?’

Humphrey had no sense of humour about this, and he made a brave attempt at bluffing us again.

‘A compound is . . . well, you know what compound interest is, surely?’ he complained. Joan and I nodded. ‘Compound interest is a jolly good thing to enjoy. Well, that’s the sort of thing a compound is.’

I stared at him. Did he really think that would do? I looked at Joan. She was staring at him too. But reduced to silence for the first time. So I plunged in hopefully.

‘Well,’ I said, trying it on in the hope of bringing the discussion to a close, ‘that’s about it, then. To sum up, I think we’re all of the same mind, basically in agreement, broadly speaking, about this. And we are happy to continue with its development.’

Littler spoke up. ‘I’ve said no such thing.’

We were getting nowhere. So I tried to sum it up again. I pointed out that we had established that the only similarity between dioxin and metadioxin was in the name. She didn’t seem to see it.

I searched desperately for an analogy, ‘It’s like Littler and Hitler,’ I explained. ‘We’re not saying that you’re like Hitler because your name sounds similar.’

I realised that I’d been less than tactful, but the words were out. She flared up. ‘That’s hardly the point,’ she said angrily.

‘Then what is the point?’ But I knew already.

‘The point is, this factory is in my constituency.’

Of course I could see why she was worried, but if Humphrey was telling me the truth she was worried unnecessarily. ‘It’s good for the constituency.’ I said. ‘More jobs. More money. The only people who could possibly be upset by this are a few cranky environmentalists. It can’t cost us more than, on balance, a couple of hundred votes.’