The Complete Yes Minister

He was way ahead of me. He immediately produced the very document from his folder. ‘And there’s a one-page summary on the front,’ he smiled smugly. Well, he was entitled to be smug!

I told him he was wonderful. He told me it was nothing.

I sat back and glanced through the proposal. It was splendid stuff.

‘My goodness,’ I reflected, ‘if the press were to get hold of this . . . eh?’

Humphrey smiled. ‘They’ll soon be setting up another leak enquiry.’

Bernard was immediately anxious. ‘Not really?’

‘Bound to.’

‘But . . . wouldn’t that be embarrassing?’

I was surprised to see that Bernard didn’t know the rules of the leak enquiry game. Leak enquiries are never embarrassing because they never actually happen. Leak enquiries are for setting up, not for actually conducting. Members may be appointed, but they hardly ever meet more than once. They certainly never report.

I asked Bernard, ‘How many leak enquiries can you recall that named the culprit?’

‘In round figures,’ added Humphrey.

Bernard thought for a moment. ‘Well, if you want it in round figures . . .’ He thought again. ‘None.’

The right answer. They can’t report. For two reasons:

If the leak came from a civil servant it’s not fair to publish it. The politicians are supposed to take the rap, that’s what they’re there for.

If the leak came from a politician it’s not safe to publish it, because he will then promptly disclose all the other leaks he knows of that came from his Cabinet colleagues.

I explained all this to Bernard.

Then Humphrey chimed in. ‘There’s a third reason. The most important of all. The main reason why it’s too dangerous to publish the results of an enquiry is because most leaks come from Number Ten. The ship of state is the only ship that leaks from the top.’

Humphrey was quite right, of course. Since the problem, more often than not, is a leaky PM – as in this case – it’s not easy to get the evidence and impossible to publish it if you do.

And by a curious coincidence, a journalist arrived to see me this very morning, shortly after our meeting. Humphrey, most considerately, left a spare copy of our latest high-cost proposal lying around on my desk. I’m awfully absent-minded, I’m always leaving bits of paper lying around, forgetting where I put them – the upshot was that after the journalist had left my office I couldn’t find my spare copy anywhere. Extraordinary!

August 25th

It all came to a head today.

Humphrey and I were summoned – together this time – to a meeting at Number Ten. We were ushered into the Cabinet Secretary’s office, where Sir Arnold and Sir Mark sat at the far end of a very long room. I think they were trying to intimidate us. But Humphrey and I are made of sterner stuff.

We greeted them cheerfully, and I sat in one of the armchairs in the conversation area. As a Minister of the Crown they were all my servants (nominally, at least) so they could not insist on a desk-bound interview. At my suggestion they joined me in Sir Arnold’s armchairs. But he opened the batting. ‘Another leak,’ he said. ‘This is extremely serious.’

‘There has indeed been another leak,’ I agreed. ‘I can’t think how it occurred! Our high-cost proposal was all over this morning’s papers.’

Humphrey and I agreed earnestly that this new leak was indeed extremely serious.

‘It is almost approaching a disciplinary level,’ said Sir Arnold.

‘I do agree,’ I said, ‘don’t you, Humphrey?’

He nodded emphatically. ‘Indeed, if only one could find the culprits it would be a most serious matter for them.’

Sir Mark piped up. He said he could help with that. He thought that if he were to use his influence he could achieve a disclosure from The Times of how they got hold of our original transport plans.

I shook Humphrey up a bit by offering to help further.

‘Are you sure, Minister?’ He sounded a warning note.

‘Oh yes,’ I said. ‘In fact I’m confident that I could find out how the press got hold of the leak about the Prime Minister’s opposition to our original plans. Of course, if it transpires that the PM’s own office leaks, then that would be even more serious than a leak in a cabinet minister’s private office, wouldn’t it? The security implications alone . . .’

I let that threat hang in the air, and sat back.

‘Ah,’ said Sir Mark.

There was a pause while everyone thought and rethought their positions. I felt I had the initiative, so I continued: ‘In fact, perhaps we ought to bring in the police or MI5 – after all, the implications of a leak at Number Ten are really very serious indeed.’

Arnold fought back. ‘Nevertheless, our first priority must be to investigate the original leak.’ He tried to insist.

I contradicted him flatly. ‘No. Our first priority must be to track down the leak involving the PM.’

He really couldn’t argue with that. And he didn’t. He just sat in silence and looked at me. So after a moment, having won the Battle of the Leak Enquiries, I turned to the matter of the Transport Policy.