The Complete Yes Minister

November 5th

Guy Fawkes Day. Fireworks inside the office too. A fitting day on which to enforce the supremacy of parliament and HMG.

Frank Weisel came bursting into my office, waving a document, ‘Have you seen this?’ he enquired at four thousand decibels.

I was delighted that the civil servants were giving him all the papers now. I said so.

‘They’re not,’ he said derisively. ‘Not the real papers.’

‘Which real papers aren’t you getting?’ I wanted to know.

‘How do I know, if I’m not getting them?’

This is, of course, absolutely true. And I don’t know what he can do about it. [This, of course, is an example of what management consultants call the Light-in-the-Refrigerator Syndrome, i.e. is the light on when the door is shut? The only way to find out is to open the door — in which case the door is not shut any more — Ed.]

But Frank did not want to discuss his problems in getting necessary information out of the officials.

‘They think they’re sending me the rubbish. But look what I’ve found — oho, we’ve got them, we’ve got them by the short and curlies.’

I still didn’t know what he was talking about. Frank explained further.

‘We’ve got Sir Humphrey-Bloody-Appleby and Mr Toffee-Nose-Private-Secretary-Snooty-Woolley just where we want them.’

He brandished a sheaf of papers under my nose. I still didn’t know what he was talking about, but I do think he has a wonderful line in invective — perhaps I should let him write the draft of my conference speech next year.

I made Frank sit down, and explain calmly. He has found some ordinary office invoices that have tremendous political significance. The DAA has apparently bought one thousand computer video display terminals, at ten thousand pounds each. Ten million pounds of the taxpayers’ money. And they are made in Pittsburgh!

This is shocking. Humphrey’s been keeping very quiet about this. And I’m not surprised. We make computer peripherals in my constituency, Birmingham East. And we have rising unemployment. It is a scandal that the Civil Service is not buying British.

I sent for Humphrey. He was in meetings all day, but Frank and I will confront him with this tomorrow. I am deeply grateful to Frank. Sir Humphrey is going to be very surprised indeed that we have found out about this so fast.

November 6th

The meeting with Humphrey was a total success.

I showed him the invoices for the computer display terminals. He admitted that the DAA has purchased this brand for the whole of Whitehall.

‘But they’re not British,’ I pointed out.

‘That is unfortunately true,’ he agreed, somewhat shamefaced.

‘We make these machines in Birmingham East.’

‘Not of the same quality,’ he said.

This is very probably true, but naturally I can’t admit it even if it is.

‘They are better quality,’ I said firmly. ‘They come from my constituency.’ I told Humphrey to cancel the contract.

He responded that it was beyond his power to do so, and that it could only be cancelled by the Treasury. He said it would be a major change of policy for the Civil Service to cancel contracts freely entered into. Especially with overseas suppliers.

He suggested (a trifle impertinently, I thought) that I should take it up in Cabinet. ‘Perhaps they would postpone the discussion on the Middle East, or nuclear disarmament, to talk about office equipment.’

I could see that this was out of the question. I was faced with a dilemma. If it couldn’t be cancelled, how was I to face my constituency party?

‘Why need they know?’ asked Sir Humphrey. ‘Why need anybody know? We can see that it never gets out.’

I was staggered. Couldn’t Humphrey see that to keep it quiet was directly contrary to our new policy of Open Government, to which he was as firmly committed as I?

Frank spelled out the only alternative. ‘If the order can’t be cancelled, it must be published.’

Humphrey asked why. For a moment I couldn’t quite think of the answer. But Frank saw it at once. ‘Two reasons,’ he explained. ‘First, it’s a manifesto commitment. Second, it’ll make the last Minister look like a traitor.’

Two unanswerable reasons. I really am very grateful to Frank. And he is running rings around Sir Humphrey. Perhaps Sir Humphrey is not as clever as I first thought.

Humphrey seemed very anxious about the idea of publication. ‘But surely,’ he said to Frank, ‘you’re not suggesting that the Minister should make a positive reference to this confidential transaction in a speech?’

‘A speech!’ said Frank. ‘Of course! That’s the answer.’

This is a superb idea of Frank’s. My speech to the Union of Office Employees will deal with this scandalous contract. And we will release it to the press in advance.