The Complete Yes Minister

The stages can be made to last three years because at each stage Sir Humphrey will do absolutely nothing until the Minister chases him. And he assumes, rightly, that the Minister has too much else to do. [The whole process is called Creative Inertia — Ed.]

Tom asked me what the policy was that I’m trying to push through. When I told him that I’m trying to make the National Integrated Data Base less of a Big Brother, he roared with laughter.

‘I suppose he’s pretending it’s all new?’

I nodded.

‘Clever old sod,’ said Tom, ‘we spent years on that. We almost had a White Paper ready to bring out, but the election was called. I’ve done it all.’

I could hardly believe my ears. I asked about the administrative problems. Tom said there were none — all solved. And Tom guessed that my enquiries about the past were met with silence — ‘clever bugger, he’s wiped the slate clean’.

Anyway, now I know the five stages, I should be able to deal with Humphrey quite differently. Tom advised me not to let on that we’d had this conversation, because it would spoil the fun. He also warned me of the ‘Three Varieties of Civil Service Silence’, which would be Humphrey’s last resort if completely cornered:

The silence when they do not want to tell you the facts: Discreet Silence.

The silence when they do not intend to take any action: Stubborn Silence.

The silence when you catch them out and they haven’t a leg to stand on. They imply that they could vindicate themselves completely if only they were free to tell all, but they are too honourable to do so: Courageous Silence.

Finally Tom told me what Humphrey’s next move would be. He asked how many boxes they’d given me for tonight: ‘Three? Four?’

‘Five,’ I admitted, somewhat shamefaced.

‘Five?’ He couldn’t hide his astonishment at how badly I was doing. ‘Have they told you that you needn’t worry too much about the fifth?’ I nodded. ‘Right. Well, I’ll bet you that at the bottom of the fifth box will be a submission explaining why any new moves on the Data Base must be delayed — and if you never find it or read it they’ll do nothing further, and in six months’ time they’ll say they told you all about it.’

There was one more thing I wanted to ask Tom, who really had been extremely kind and helpful. He’s been in office for years, in various government posts. So I said to him: ‘Look Tom, you know all the Civil Service tricks.’

‘Not all,’ he grinned, ‘just a few hundred.’

‘Right,’ I said. ‘Now how do you defeat them? How do you make them do something they do not want to do?’

Tom smiled ruefully, and shook his head. ‘My dear fellow,’ he replied, ‘if I knew that I wouldn’t be in Opposition.’

January 13th

I did my boxes so late last night that I’m writing up yesterday’s discoveries a day late.

Tom had been most helpful to me. When I got home I told Annie all about it over dinner. She couldn’t understand why Tom, as a member of the Opposition, would have been so helpful.

I explained to her that the Opposition aren’t really the opposition. They’re just called the Opposition. But, in fact, they are the opposition in exile. The Civil Service are the opposition in residence.

Then after dinner I did the boxes and sure enough, at the bottom of the fifth box, I found a submission on the Data Base. Not merely at the bottom of the fifth box — to be doubly certain the submission had somehow slipped into the middle of an eighty-page report on Welfare Procedures.

By the way, Tom has also lent me all his private papers on the Data Base, which he kept when he left office. Very useful!

The submission contained the expected delaying phrases: ‘Subject still under discussion… programme not finalised… nothing precipitate… failing instructions to the contrary propose await developments.’

Annie suggested I ring Humphrey and tell him that I disagree. I was reluctant — it was 2 a.m., and he’d be fast asleep.

‘Why should he sleep while you’re working?’ Annie asked me. ‘After all, he’s had you on the run for three months. Now it’s your turn.’

‘I couldn’t possibly do that,’ I said.

Annie looked at me. ‘What’s his number?’ I asked, as I reached for our address book.

Annie added reasonably: ‘After all, if it was in the fifth box you couldn’t have found it any earlier, could you?’

Humphrey answered the phone with a curious sort of grunting noise. I had obviously woken him up. ‘Sorry to ring you so late, you weren’t in the middle of dinner, were you?’

‘No,’ he said, sounding somewhat confused, ‘we had dinner some while ago. What’s the time?’

I told him it was 2 a.m.

‘Good God!’ He sounded as though he’d really woken up now. ‘What’s the crisis?’

‘No crisis. I’m still going through my red boxes and I knew you’d still be hard at it.’

‘Oh yes,’ he said, stifling a yawn. ‘Nose to the grindstone.’

I told him I’d just got to the paper on the Data Base.

‘Oh, you’ve found…’ he corrected himself without pausing, ‘you’ve read it.’