The Complete Yes Minister

The job of a professionally conducted internal enquiry is to unearth a great mass of no evidence. If you say there was no intention, you can be proved wrong. But if you say the enquiry found no evidence of an intention, you can’t be proved wrong.’

This is a most interesting insight into one of the Civil Service’s favourite devices. In future I’ll know what is really meant by a departmental enquiry. Even a full departmental enquiry. That would presumably mean that an even greater mass of no evidence had been unearthed for the occasion.

However I had to deal with the matter in hand, namely that I had agreed to an independent enquiry. ‘Couldn’t we,’ I suggested thoughtfully, ‘get an independent enquiry to find no evidence?’

‘You mean, rig it?’ enquired Sir Humphrey coldly.

This man’s double standards continue to amaze me.

‘Well… yes!’

‘Minister!’ he said, as if he was deeply shocked. Bloody hypocrite.

‘What’s wrong with rigging an independent enquiry if you can rig an internal one, I should like to know?’ Though I already know the answer — you might get caught rigging an independent enquiry.

‘No, Minister, in an independent enquiry everything depends on who the Chairman is. He absolutely has to be sound.’

‘If he’s sound,’ I remarked, ‘surely there’s a danger he’ll bring it all out into the open?’

Sir Humphrey was puzzled again. ‘No, not if he’s sound,’ he explained. ‘A sound man will understand what is required. He will perceive the implications. He will have a sensitive and sympathetic insight into the overall problem.’

He was suggesting that we rig it, in fact. He just likes to wrap it up a bit.

‘Ah,’ I said. ‘So “sound” actually means “bent”?’

‘Certainly not!’ He was too quick with his denial. Methinks Sir Humphrey doth protest too much. ‘I mean,’ he tried again, ‘a man of broad understanding…’

I decided to short-circuit the process by making some suggestions.

‘Then what about a retired politician?’

‘… and unimpeachable integrity,’ added Humphrey.

‘Oh I see.’ I paused to think. ‘What about an academic or a businessman?’

Sir Humphrey shook his head.

‘Okay,’ I said, knowing that he had someone in mind already. ‘Out with it. Who?’

‘Well, Minister, I thought perhaps… a retired civil servant.’

I saw his point. ‘Good thinking, Humphrey.’ It’s wonderful what years of training can do for you!

‘Sir Maurice Williams could be the man,’ he went on.

I wasn’t too sure about this. ‘You don’t think he might be too independent?’

‘He’s hoping for a peerage,’ said Humphrey quietly, with a smile. He appeared to think he was producing an ace from up his sleeve.

I was surprised. ‘This won’t give him one, will it?’

‘No, but the right finding will give him a few more Brownie points.’

Brownie points. This was a new concept to me. Humphrey explained that they all add up until you get the badge. This seems to make sense.

‘Right,’ I said decisively. ‘Sir Maurice it is.’ Thank God I find it so easy to take decisions.

‘Thank you, Brown Owl,’ smiled Humphrey, and left the room. He’s really quite a pleasant fellow when he gets his way, and perhaps his idea will get us out of the embarrassment of an independent enquiry actually revealing anything — whether it be something we didn’t know ourselves and should have known, or something we knew perfectly well and didn’t want others to know we had known.

Of course, I realise on reflection that there is a third, and more real, possibility — that an independent enquiry would reveal something that Humphrey knew and I didn’t know and that he didn’t want me to know and that I would look an idiot for not knowing.

Like what happened yesterday, in other words.

So perhaps it’s just as well to follow his advice, until the day dawns when I know some embarrassing information that he doesn’t.

March 17th

A long meeting with Bernard Woolley today.

First of all, he was concerned about the Cuban refugees. Naturally. I’m concerned about them too. There’s a whole row brewing in Parliament and the press about the government’s refusal to help them.

I tried to point out that it’s not my fault the Treasury won’t give us the cash.

I can’t beat the Treasury. No one can beat the Treasury.

I’ve decided to do nothing about the refugees because there’s nothing I can do. However, Bernard and I had a more fruitful and revealing conversation about the new St Edward’s Hospital that Roy had tipped me off about yesterday. It seemed at first as though Roy was misinformed.

‘You asked me to find out about that alleged empty hospital in North London,’ began Bernard.

I nodded.

‘Well, as I warned you, the driver’s network is not wholly reliable. Roy has got it wrong.’

I was very relieved. ‘How did you find out this good news?’ I asked.

‘Through the Private Secretaries’ network.’

This was impressive. Although the Private Secretaries’ network is sometimes a little slower than the drivers’ network, it is a great deal more reliable — in fact almost one hundred per cent accurate.

‘And?’