The Complete Yes Minister

He asked me: If a purely hypothetical Minister were to be unhappy with a departmental draft of evidence to a committee, and if the hypothetical Minister were to be planning to replace it with his own hypothetical draft worked out with his own political advisers at his party HQ, and if this Minister was planning to bring in his own draft so close to the final date for evidence that there would be no time to redraft it, and if the hypothetical Private Secretary were to be aware of this hypothetical draft — in confidence — should the hypothetical Private Secretary pass on the information to the Perm. Sec. of the hypothetical Department?

A good question. Naturally, I answered B.W. by saying that no Private Secretary should pass on such information, if given in confidence.

B. W. shows more promise than I thought. [Appleby Papers 23/RPY/13c]

February 1st

It is now two weeks since I decided to take over the Think-Tank report. My final redraft is going well. Frank and his chaps have been hard at work on it, and I’ve been burning the midnight oil as well. The situation seems to be infuriating Humphrey, which gives me some considerable pleasure.

Today he again asked me about my redraft of the redraft of the draft. ‘What about the evidence to the Central Policy Review Staff?’ he said.

‘You mean the Think-Tank?’ I said playing for time.

‘Yes Minister.’

‘Why do you want it?’ I asked.

‘So that we can redraft it.’

‘That won’t be necessary.’

‘I think it will, Minister.’

‘Humphrey,’ I said firmly, ‘drafting is not a Civil Service monopoly.’

‘It is a highly specialised skill,’ he replied, ‘which few people outside the Service can master.’

‘Nonsense,’ I said. ‘Drafts are easy. It’s a game anyone can play.’

‘Not without getting huffed,’ he answered. Actually, he’s quite witty, really.

I chuckled at his joke, and changed the subject. But he didn’t let me get away with it. ‘So can I have the draft back, please?’ he persisted.

‘Of course,’ I said, with a smile. He waited. In vain.

‘When, Minister?’ he asked, trying to smile back, but definitely through clenched teeth.

‘Later,’ I said airily.

‘But when?’ he snarled through his smile.

‘You always say we mustn’t rush things,’ I said irritatingly.

He then asked me for a straight answer! The nerve of it! However, as he had started to use my terminology, I answered him in his.

‘In due course, Humphrey.’ I was really enjoying myself. ‘In the fullness of time. At the appropriate juncture. When the moment is ripe. When the requisite procedures have been completed. Nothing precipitate, you understand.’

‘Minister,’ he said, losing all traces of good humour. ‘It is getting urgent.’

He was getting rattled. Great. My tactics were a triumph. ‘Urgent?’ I said blandly. ‘You are learning a lot of new words.’ I don’t think I’ve ever been quite so rude to anyone in my life. I was having a wonderful time. I must try it more often.

‘I hope you will forgive me for saying this,’ began Sir Humphrey in his iciest manner, ‘but I am beginning to suspect that you are concealing something from me.’

I feigned shock, surprise, puzzlement, ignorance — a whole mass of false emotions. ‘Humphrey!’ I said in my most deeply shocked voice, ‘surely we don’t have any secrets from each other?’

‘I’m sorry, Minister, but sometimes one is forced to consider the possibility that affairs are being conducted in a way which, all things being considered, and making all possible allowances, is, not to put too fine a point on it, perhaps not entirely straightforward.’ Sir Humphrey was insulting me in the plainest language he could manage in a crisis. Not entirely straightforward, indeed! Clearly, just as it’s against the rules of the House to call anyone a liar, it’s against the Whitehall code of conduct too.

So I decided to come clean at last. I told him that I have redrafted the redraft myself, that I’m perfectly happy with it, and that I don’t want him to redraft it again.

‘But…’ began Sir Humphrey.

‘No buts,’ I snapped. ‘All I get from the Civil Service is delaying tactics.’

‘I wouldn’t call Civil Service delays “tactics”, Minister,’ he replied smoothly. ‘That would be to mistake lethargy for strategy.’

I asked him if we hadn’t already set up a committee to investigate delays in the Civil Service. He concurred.

‘What happened to it?’ I asked.

‘Oh,’ he said, brushing the matter aside, ‘it hasn’t met yet.’

‘Why not?’ I wanted to know.

‘There… seems to have been a delay,’ he admitted.

It is vital that I make Humphrey realise that there is a real desire for radical reform in the air. I reminded him that the All-Party Select Committee on Administrative Affairs, which I founded, has been a great success.

This was probably an error, because he immediately asked me what it has achieved. I was forced to admit that it hasn’t actually achieved anything yet, but I pointed out that the party is very pleased by it.

‘Really?’ he asked. ‘Why?’

‘Ten column inches in the Daily Mail last Monday, for a start,’ I replied proudly.