The Complete Yes Minister

Humphrey was gazing at me with astonishment. He just couldn’t work out how I was so thoroughly in command of the situation. Was I just making a series of inspired guesses, he wondered. As he didn’t speak for a moment, I decided to help him out.

‘Legal problems?’ I suggested helpfully.

‘Yes Minister,’ he agreed at once, hoping that he had me cornered at last. Legal problems were always his best bet.

‘Good, good,’ I said, and ticked off the last but one stage on my little list. Again he tried to see what I had written down.

‘There is a question,’ he began carefully, ‘of whether we have the legal power . . .’

‘I’ll answer it,’ I announced grandly. ‘We have.’ He was looking at me in wonderment. ‘All personnel affected are bound by their service agreement anyway.’

He couldn’t argue because, of course, I was right. Grasping at straws he said: ‘But Minister, there will have to be extra staffing – are you sure you will get it through Cabinet and the Parliamentary Party?’

‘Quite sure,’ I said. ‘Anything else?’ I looked at my list. ‘No, nothing else. Right, so we go ahead?’

Humphrey was silent. I wondered whether he was being discreet, stubborn or courageous. Stubborn, I think.

Eventually, I spoke. ‘You’re very silent,’ I remarked. There was more silence. ‘Why are you so silent, by the way?’

He realised that he had to speak, or the jig was up. ‘Minister, you do not seem to realise how much work is involved.’

Casually, I enquired if he’d never investigated safeguards before, under another government perhaps, as I thought I remembered written answers to Parliamentary questions in the past.

His reply went rather as follows: ‘Minister, in the first place, we’ve agreed that the question is not cricket. In the second place, if there had been investigations, which there haven’t or not necessarily, or I am not at liberty to say if there have, there would have been a project team which, had it existed, on which I cannot comment, would now be disbanded if it had existed and the members returned to their original departments, had there indeed been any such members.’ Or words to that effect.

I waited till the torrent of useless language came to a halt, and then I delivered my ultimatum. I told him that I wanted safeguards on the use of the Data Base made available immediately. He told me it isn’t possible. I told him it is. He told me it isn’t. I told him it is. We went on like that (’tis, ’tisn’t, ’tis, ’tisn’t) like a couple of three-year-olds, glowering at each other, till Bernard popped in.

I didn’t want to reveal that Tom had told me of the safeguards that were ready and waiting, because then I’d have no more aces up my sleeve.

While I contemplated this knotty problem, Bernard reminded me of my engagements: Cabinet at 10, a speech to the Anglo-American Society lunch, and the World in Focus interview this evening. I asked him if he could get me out of the lunch. ‘Not really, Minister,’ he answered, ‘it’s been announced. It’s in the programme.’

And suddenly the penny dropped. The most wonderful plan formed in my mind, the idea of the century!

I told Humphrey and Bernard to be sure to watch me on TV tonight.

[The transcript of Hacker’s appearance that night on World in Focus follows. It contains his first truly memorable victory over his officials – Ed.]

SIR BERNARD WOOLLEY RECALLS:¹

Jim Hacker always gave me the credit for this brilliant ploy, because of the unintentional double meaning of my remark, ‘it’s been announced, it’s in the programme’.

However, I personally believe that Hacker was inspired by Edward Heath’s famous manoeuvre when he was Prime Minister and wanted – in the teeth of Civil Service opposition – to announce a new £10 Christmas bonus for the Old Age Pensioners. After many weeks of obstruction within Number Ten he simply appeared on Panorama and announced it as a fait accompli. It happened. It happened late, but it happened.

I well remember that Humphrey Appleby’s face was a picture when Jim made his statement – especially at the moment when he said that his Permanent Secretary had staked his reputation on it.

He turned to me and said: ‘It can’t be done.’ I made no reply.

Then he said to me: ‘Well Bernard, what do you make of the Minister’s performance?’

I was obliged to say that, in my opinion, it was checkmate.

January 15th

Today was my happiest day since I became a Minister.

‘Did you see me on the box last night?’ I asked Humphrey cheerfully as he gloomed into the office looking like Mr Sowerberry at a funeral.

‘Of course,’ he replied, tight-lipped.

Actually, it didn’t matter whether he’d seen me or not, because my TV appearance was completely reported in this morning’s press.

‘How was I?’ I asked innocently. ‘Good?’

‘A most remarkable performance, Minister, if I may say so,’ he answered with studied ambiguity.