The Complete Yes Minister

I noted the emphasis on ‘discreet’. The secrecy thing again, here openly acknowledged. I also noted that in giving this glowing description of Permanent Secretaries he thought that he was, in fact, describing himself. And I also noted that he had begged the question: even if Permanent Secretaries are never security risks, Humphrey said that he had never been bugged. But he hasn’t been a Permanent Secretary all his life, has he?

As Humphrey had described the qualities of Permanent Secretaries in a way that argued that they need not be subject to surveillance, I inquired how he felt about Ministers. It was as I expected.

‘Ministers,’ he said, ‘have a whole range of dazzling qualities including . . . um . . . well, including an enviable intellectual suppleness and moral manoeuvrability.’

I invited him to explain himself.

‘You can’t trust Ministers,’ he said bluntly. I was appalled at his rudeness. ‘I’m being quite candid now,’ he added unnecessarily. Bloody insolent, I’d call it. ‘I don’t mean, by the way, that we can’t trust you, Minister – of course we can. But in general terms Ministers, unlike civil servants, are selected completely at random – by Prime Ministerial whim, in recognition of doubtful favours received, or to avoid appointing someone of real ability who might become a threat – not you, of course, Minister. You can certainly be trusted. You might almost be a civil servant yourself.’

[Sir Humphrey almost certainly meant this as a compliment. Indeed, the ultimate compliment. However, Hacker should certainly have taken this as a hint that he might be house-trained. Regrettably, he allowed the flattery to get the better of him – Ed.]

I was mollified. I didn’t think he was bullshitting.

I let him continue. ‘Minister, would you trust every one of your Cabinet colleagues never to betray a confidence?’

I couldn’t really give an answer to that, without appearing somewhat disloyal to my Cabinet colleagues.

‘And what about all the Opposition Front Bench?’ he asked.

That was an easy one. ‘You certainly can’t trust that lot,’ I exclaimed.

‘Quite so,’ he said, checkmating me neatly, ‘and you were on the Opposition Front Bench at the time.’

It has always been hard to win this kind of argument with Humphrey. But he’s into winning arguments – whereas I’m into getting things done!

So I cut the discussion short. I made my decision. Which is to stop all surveillance. It’s a matter of principle.

He countered by informing me that this is a Home Office matter, and in many cases not within our purview.

This didn’t bother me. I can certainly make it much more difficult in future. If I’m responsible for the apparatus, I intend to make myself responsible for some proper democratic safeguards for us all (before the apparatus can be used).

‘Are you perhaps going to suggest,’ he enquired sarcastically, ‘that people will not be able to be put under secret surveillance until they’ve signed a form saying that they agree to it?’

I rose above it. ‘No,’ I said gently but firmly, ‘I propose that we shall have a Select Committee of both Houses chaired by a Law Lord to decide on every application. And no surveillance will be allowed to go on for more than two weeks without reapplying.’

Then I told him to set the wheels in motion.

He argued no further, but took his leave of me in a very frosty manner.

I was full of ideas today. After Humphrey had stalked out I told Bernard to send a minute to each member of the Cabinet.

I also thought of planting a question from one of our backbenchers to the Home Secretary. Something like: Will the Home Secretary assure the House that none of his Cabinet colleagues has ever been placed under government surveillance? That will shake him. And it will bring the matter out into the open. We’ll see if it’s just a Home Office matter! I think not!

Finally, I asked Bernard to make an appointment for me to meet Walter Fowler of the Express for a quick drink in Annie’s Bar at the House, later this week.

‘What for?’ Bernard wanted to know.

‘First law of political indiscretion,’ I replied. ‘You always have a drink before you leak.’