The Complete Yes Minister

It was a fairly dull routine meeting to start with, all about local government administration. As Humphrey predicted, our Department was increasing in size, staffing and budget. He is plainly in his element. So far, however, it hasn’t involved much in the way of policy decisions, which is where I come in.

We’d reached item seven on the agenda, and so far it had been pretty uneventful. The only interest had been in Bernard’s pedantic linguistic quibbles, about which he is becoming obsessional.

‘Item seven,’ I asked, ‘what’s it about?’

‘If I may just recapitulate,’ began Sir Humphrey.

Bernard made a little sign and caught my eye.

‘Yes Bernard?’

‘Um — one can’t actually recapitulate an item if one hasn’t started it yet,’ he volunteered.

Sir Humphrey, who doesn’t like to be corrected by anyone, let alone a mere Private Secretary, thanked him coldly and proceeded to complete his sentence, thus demonstrating to Bernard that the correction was both impertinent and unnecessary.

‘Thank you, Bernard, where would we be without you? Minister, may I just, recapitulating on our last meeting and on our submissions which you have doubtless received in your boxes…’

I was thoroughly amused, and not paying full attention. ‘Doubtless,’ I interrupted cheerfully, and then realised that I didn’t know what he was talking about. After all, they give me mountains of paper to read virtually every day, I can’t remember everything.

‘Which minutes?’ I asked.

‘On the proposal to take disciplinary action against the South-West Derbyshire County Council.’

I still had no idea what the proposal was. But I didn’t like to admit it, it’s always better to make them think that one is completely on top of the job. So I casually asked Bernard to remind me.

The problem was that the council in question had failed to complete their statutory returns and supply us with the statistical information that the DAA requires.

I asked what we were going to do about it. Apparently a policy decision was required from me. Sir Humphrey offered me assorted alternatives. ‘A rebuke from the Minister, a press statement about their incompetence, withholding various grants and allowances, or, ultimately, as you are no doubt fully aware…’

‘Yes, yes,’ I interrupted helpfully.

‘Good,’ he said, and fell silent.

Again I was in a bit of a hole. I had no idea what he’d been about to say. But clearly he was waiting for my comments.

‘I’m fully aware of… what?’ I prompted him.

‘What?’

‘What am I fully aware of?’

‘I can’t think of anything.’ Then he realised what he’d said because he added hastily, ‘I mean, I can’t think what you are…’

‘You were saying,’ I explained, feeling somewhat embarrassed by now. (After all, seven assorted officials of various ages and ranks were silently watching my display of confusion and ineptitude.) ‘You were saying: “ultimately, as I’m fully aware”…’

‘Ah yes, Minister.’ Now he was on the ball again. ‘Ultimately, taking the local authority to court.’

I asked if a failure to complete returns is all that serious.

Eight officials looked shocked! I was told categorically that it is not merely serious, but catastrophic!

I wanted to know why. Sir Humphrey was quick to explain.

‘If local authorities don’t send us the statistics we ask for, then government figures will be nonsense. They’ll be incomplete.’

I pointed out that government figures are a nonsense anyway. No one denied it, but Bernard suggested that Sir Humphrey wanted to ensure that they are a complete nonsense.

He was rewarded with another withering look from his boss.

I was worried about making an example of South-West Derbyshire, which I happened to know is controlled by my party. Humphrey realised that this was on my mind, and raised the matter with me. I responded by suggesting that we pick on an opposition council instead.

This went down badly. I can’t see why. What does he expect? Anyway, the suggestion was met with pursed lips from Sir Humphrey, and everyone else looked down at their blotters.

So I asked if South-West Derbyshire are really all that bad. And suddenly everyone had plenty to say.

One Under-Sec. told me that they won’t return their blue forms (whatever they are, something to do with finance I think). An Assistant-Sec. told me that they replied to the DAA’s Ethnic Personnel Breakdown Request in longhand, on the back of a departmental circular. And a delightfully attractive lady Assistant-Sec. was appalled because she still hadn’t received their Social Worker Revised Case-load Analysis for the last two quarters. Or their Distributed Data Processing Appropriation Tables. ‘They’re unbelievable,’ she said. ‘Really evil.’

This was a definition of evil? Someone who doesn’t return his blue form? ‘Yes,’ I said with heavy irony, ‘I don’t see how life still goes on in South Derbyshire.’

Sir Humphrey took my remark at face value. ‘Exactly, Minister. They really are in a class of their own for incompetence.’