From: Sir Humphrey Appleby
To: Bernard Woolley
Subject: Guiding Ministers
Your proposal for the induction course for high-fliers misses an important element. Since it is not our job as civil servants to oppose the policies of our lords and masters, we need to develop and deploy a range of techniques to resist those of their ideas which are patently foolish, misguided, impracticable or potentially catastrophic, which of course constitutes the great majority of the schemes they come up with. I suggest you break this down into four sections.
Our initial resistance is based on our three general objections: absence of parliamentary time, lack of money and existing statutory provisions which prohibit their proposed measures. Those often do the trick, but if they fail the second line of defence is that the proposals will bring us into conflict with the outside bodies. The most effective are the International Monetary Fund, the World Trade Organisation, the U.N., the European Union, the European Commission on Human Rights and Washington, although we can usually find others on specific subjects.
Then there are the administrative devices: fixing key meetings at awkward times and short notice and reassuring them that they do not have to attend; saying people are unavailable when they have not actually been approached; suppressing reports that conflict with our advice or challenge our policy; leaving political advisors off circulation lists on security grounds; reporting serious objections from people who do not actually object at all; subtly altering instructions and agreements when writing up reports; setting up interdepartmental committees to examine proposals; and circulating proposals widely for comments and not chasing up responses.
These three categories should take care of all but the most energetic persistence by the most intransigent of ministers; if they do not, we can fall back on the four magic words: costly, slow, complicated and controversial. In an emergency we can substitute ‘courageous’ for ‘controversial’, which rarely fails; it is the ultimate deterrent. We can then turn the magic words round to commend the policy we are guiding them towards. We tell them it will be cheap, quick, simple and popular. There are few if any ministers who do not find that combination of adjectives irresistible.
Humphrey Appleby
(Sir Humphrey Appleby KCB CVO)
© Sir Antony Jay and Jonathan Lynn, 14 September 2010
We shall continue to print these classified memos as a public service until prevented by the Official Secrets Act
Tuesday, 14 September 2010
Friday, 10 September 2010
Brussels
From: Sir Humphrey Appleby
To: Bernard Woolley
Subject: Brussels
Any attempt by this new government to weaken our ties with the European Union must be firmly resisted. Our membership has been a godsend. Since no cabinet minister is really au fait with all the provisions of the treaty of Rome, we can guide them towards our desired decisions by telling them they are obligations under the treaty, and deflect them from unwelcome actions by saying that the treaty prohibits them. In addition we can cite some of the myriad directives, which can be creatively adapted to our purposes by skilful translation from the original French. Since few of them have progressed beyond O level in any modern language, our version is unlikely to be challenged. And of course when we want to get rid of a minister for a few days we can always arrange an emergency meeting in Brussels, Strasburg or Luxembourg to give us a few days breathing space.
Brussels provides a model for modern government. Legislation can be brought forward only by officials, not by elected members. All important posts are filled by appointment, not election. Political ‘leadership’ is rotated every six months, to ensure that no one ever gets a real grip on the job. The proliferation of nations and languages gives officials endless scope for fomenting distrust, confusion and conflict between members. And there is no nonsense about financial constraints: the auditors have refused to approve the EU accounts for the past fourteen years, but they go on spending happily regardless.
Ministers in previous governments have occasionally expressed concern about this in their early months, but we have always found that after a few visits to Brussels and contingent exposure to the legendary Belgian hospitality, their opposition has cooled remarkably, and indeed they express enthusiasm for further visits, which of course we are more than happy to arrange.
Humphrey Appleby
(Sir Humphrey Appleby KCB CVO)
© Sir Antony Jay and Jonathan Lynn, 9 September 2010
To: Bernard Woolley
Subject: Brussels
Any attempt by this new government to weaken our ties with the European Union must be firmly resisted. Our membership has been a godsend. Since no cabinet minister is really au fait with all the provisions of the treaty of Rome, we can guide them towards our desired decisions by telling them they are obligations under the treaty, and deflect them from unwelcome actions by saying that the treaty prohibits them. In addition we can cite some of the myriad directives, which can be creatively adapted to our purposes by skilful translation from the original French. Since few of them have progressed beyond O level in any modern language, our version is unlikely to be challenged. And of course when we want to get rid of a minister for a few days we can always arrange an emergency meeting in Brussels, Strasburg or Luxembourg to give us a few days breathing space.
Brussels provides a model for modern government. Legislation can be brought forward only by officials, not by elected members. All important posts are filled by appointment, not election. Political ‘leadership’ is rotated every six months, to ensure that no one ever gets a real grip on the job. The proliferation of nations and languages gives officials endless scope for fomenting distrust, confusion and conflict between members. And there is no nonsense about financial constraints: the auditors have refused to approve the EU accounts for the past fourteen years, but they go on spending happily regardless.
Ministers in previous governments have occasionally expressed concern about this in their early months, but we have always found that after a few visits to Brussels and contingent exposure to the legendary Belgian hospitality, their opposition has cooled remarkably, and indeed they express enthusiasm for further visits, which of course we are more than happy to arrange.
Humphrey Appleby
(Sir Humphrey Appleby KCB CVO)
© Sir Antony Jay and Jonathan Lynn, 9 September 2010
Tuesday, 7 September 2010
Transparency
From: Sir Humphrey Appleby
To: Bernard Woolley
Subject: Transparency
I understand your anxiety about the new government’s fixation on what they are pleased to call ‘transparency’, but you are distressing yourself unnecessarily. It afflicts all incoming administrations. It used to be called ‘open government’, and reflects the frustrations they felt when they were in opposition and could not find out what was going on, combined with an eagerness to discover and publicise the deception, distortions and disasters of their predecessors.
But it does not last beyond the first few months. As time passes they realise they have more to lose than to gain from public knowledge of what they are up to. Each month increases their tally of catastrophic misjudgements, pathetic deceptions, humiliating retreats and squalid compromises. They very soon come to understand that sound and effective government is only possible if people do not know what you are doing. The Freedom of Information Act was the greatest blow to firm and decisive administration since the execution of King Charles I. We are gradually but steadily pruning its worst excesses, but it takes time.
Quite soon our new masters will realise that secrecy may be the enemy of democracy, but it is the foundation of government. Where would we be if Eisenhower has succumbed to calls for transparency about our plans for D-day? It is not a coincidence that ‘secretary’ originally meaning a humble clerk, the repository of secret information, has come to designate so many of the highest offices – Secretary General, Secretary of State, Home Secretary, Foreign Secretary and (if I may say so) Permanent Secretary. We should of course give the greatest possible encouragement to the idea of transparency, but in any particular case we will continue with our established practice of making public only that information which is already known or can easily be found out some other way.
Humphrey Appleby
(Sir Humphrey Appleby KCB CVO)
© Sir Antony Jay and Jonathan Lynn, 7 September 2010
To: Bernard Woolley
Subject: Transparency
I understand your anxiety about the new government’s fixation on what they are pleased to call ‘transparency’, but you are distressing yourself unnecessarily. It afflicts all incoming administrations. It used to be called ‘open government’, and reflects the frustrations they felt when they were in opposition and could not find out what was going on, combined with an eagerness to discover and publicise the deception, distortions and disasters of their predecessors.
But it does not last beyond the first few months. As time passes they realise they have more to lose than to gain from public knowledge of what they are up to. Each month increases their tally of catastrophic misjudgements, pathetic deceptions, humiliating retreats and squalid compromises. They very soon come to understand that sound and effective government is only possible if people do not know what you are doing. The Freedom of Information Act was the greatest blow to firm and decisive administration since the execution of King Charles I. We are gradually but steadily pruning its worst excesses, but it takes time.
Quite soon our new masters will realise that secrecy may be the enemy of democracy, but it is the foundation of government. Where would we be if Eisenhower has succumbed to calls for transparency about our plans for D-day? It is not a coincidence that ‘secretary’ originally meaning a humble clerk, the repository of secret information, has come to designate so many of the highest offices – Secretary General, Secretary of State, Home Secretary, Foreign Secretary and (if I may say so) Permanent Secretary. We should of course give the greatest possible encouragement to the idea of transparency, but in any particular case we will continue with our established practice of making public only that information which is already known or can easily be found out some other way.
Humphrey Appleby
(Sir Humphrey Appleby KCB CVO)
© Sir Antony Jay and Jonathan Lynn, 7 September 2010
Friday, 3 September 2010
Induction Course
From: Sir Humphrey Appleby
To: Bernard Woolley
Subject: Induction Course
I am delighted you will be running this induction course for this year’s intake of potential high-fliers. You will obviously have the official course notes and handouts, but there are some points of which they need to be apprised but which for reasons of confidentiality cannot be committed to paper. It is nevertheless vital that they should be made aware of them.
The first point to make clear to them is that ministers – indeed all politicians – belong to a different world from ours. Theirs is a world of appearances, ours is a world of reality. Theirs is a world of words, ours is a world of actions. We have to think years ahead, they think days ahead (a few think weeks ahead; they are called ‘statesmen’). A week is a long time in their world: a year is a short time in ours. They think they have been successful when everybody knows what they are doing: we know we have been successful when nobody knows what we are doing. We ask ‘Will this work?’ They ask ‘How will this look?’. Our concern is to formulate and execute policies that will improve the lives of our fellow citizens. Their concern is to get re-elected. Every action they take, every word they speak in public, has to pass through the filter of ‘Will this improve or impair my chances of re-election?’ They are obsessed with ingratiating themselves with the press, with Number Ten, with their cabinet colleagues, with the House of Commons, with the party conference, with their constituents. Obviously this leaves them little or no time for the serious business of government for which few of them are qualified and which of course we can carry out for them. We can indeed use their obsession with popularity to guide them away from ill-judged or unwelcome decisions: ‘I’m not sure Number Ten will be happy with this’, ‘Don’t you think the party in the House might object?’, ‘But how will this go down with Conference?’, ‘If the press got hold of this, they could have a field day.’
Despite this obsession with burnishing and projecting their public image, there is still a danger that some of them will find time to try and trespass on our territory and interfere with the business of government. We therefore have to make sure they are kept busy. Ministers need activity; it is their substitute for achievement. They will of course have cabinet committees, appearances before select committees and parliamentary questions to keep them out of our way for much of the time. We also need to arrange for them to attend conferences – especially overseas as this adds valuable travelling time – to greet visitors, to meet delegations and to carry out press briefings. If there are still dangerous spaces in their diary they must be filled with ceremonial functions – cutting tapes, unveiling plaques, presenting certificates and opening factories, preferably in the more remote provincial cities.
All this may sound trivial, but it is absolutely essential if we are to prevent opinionated amateurs from jeopardising the professional management of the affairs of the nation.
Humphrey Appleby
(Sir Humphrey Appleby KCB CVO)
© Sir Antony Jay and Jonathan Lynn, 3 September 2010
To: Bernard Woolley
Subject: Induction Course
I am delighted you will be running this induction course for this year’s intake of potential high-fliers. You will obviously have the official course notes and handouts, but there are some points of which they need to be apprised but which for reasons of confidentiality cannot be committed to paper. It is nevertheless vital that they should be made aware of them.
The first point to make clear to them is that ministers – indeed all politicians – belong to a different world from ours. Theirs is a world of appearances, ours is a world of reality. Theirs is a world of words, ours is a world of actions. We have to think years ahead, they think days ahead (a few think weeks ahead; they are called ‘statesmen’). A week is a long time in their world: a year is a short time in ours. They think they have been successful when everybody knows what they are doing: we know we have been successful when nobody knows what we are doing. We ask ‘Will this work?’ They ask ‘How will this look?’. Our concern is to formulate and execute policies that will improve the lives of our fellow citizens. Their concern is to get re-elected. Every action they take, every word they speak in public, has to pass through the filter of ‘Will this improve or impair my chances of re-election?’ They are obsessed with ingratiating themselves with the press, with Number Ten, with their cabinet colleagues, with the House of Commons, with the party conference, with their constituents. Obviously this leaves them little or no time for the serious business of government for which few of them are qualified and which of course we can carry out for them. We can indeed use their obsession with popularity to guide them away from ill-judged or unwelcome decisions: ‘I’m not sure Number Ten will be happy with this’, ‘Don’t you think the party in the House might object?’, ‘But how will this go down with Conference?’, ‘If the press got hold of this, they could have a field day.’
Despite this obsession with burnishing and projecting their public image, there is still a danger that some of them will find time to try and trespass on our territory and interfere with the business of government. We therefore have to make sure they are kept busy. Ministers need activity; it is their substitute for achievement. They will of course have cabinet committees, appearances before select committees and parliamentary questions to keep them out of our way for much of the time. We also need to arrange for them to attend conferences – especially overseas as this adds valuable travelling time – to greet visitors, to meet delegations and to carry out press briefings. If there are still dangerous spaces in their diary they must be filled with ceremonial functions – cutting tapes, unveiling plaques, presenting certificates and opening factories, preferably in the more remote provincial cities.
All this may sound trivial, but it is absolutely essential if we are to prevent opinionated amateurs from jeopardising the professional management of the affairs of the nation.
Humphrey Appleby
(Sir Humphrey Appleby KCB CVO)
© Sir Antony Jay and Jonathan Lynn, 3 September 2010
Wednesday, 1 September 2010
Arts budget cuts
From: Sir Humphrey Appleby
To: Bernard Woolley
Subject: Arts budget cuts
We must oppose the cuts to the arts budget with our usual argument, namely that it is justified by the tourist revenue it attracts. This has of course never been proved, and indeed it cannot be. To be frank I doubt if it is true. It has however worked well in the past, largely due to our diligence in getting seats for cabinet ministers at Covent Garden and the National Theatre, and by introducing them to the famous personalities in the arts world. Ministers are notoriously star-struck, and when properly softened up by genuine celebrities – people famous by virtue of their talent and achievement, not simply the posts to which they have been appointed – they have been persuaded to resist the economic evidence
Although we cannot say so in public, the fact is that we do not subsidise the arts because people want to see and hear great works interpreted by famous (and expensive) performers. If people want entertainment they will pay for it. We do not subsidise football matches or speedway or pop music festivals or cinemas showing Hollywood movies or music halls or greyhound racing; these are the chosen pursuits of the great mass of ordinary people, and they are quite happy to pay for them. The point is, we subsidise arts that people do not want to see, certainly not in large enough numbers to make quality performances financially viable.
We subsidise them because it is important for Britain to hold its place in the civilized world. It is, I concede, unfortunate that the great majority of those of us who appreciate art and occupy the subsidised seating at Covent Garden, Sadler’s Wells, The Festival Hall, the National Theatre and the RSC are the well educated and better-off members of society. It is not however unreasonable for people like us, who strive so hard to increase the prosperity and improve the lives of the masses, and who pay such high taxes, to receive some small recompense for our great contribution.
In a few years the current financial and economic crisis will have been resolved, but it would be tragic if we emerged from it without those cultural institutions which make us so envied by other countries which, by a purely economic calculus, are more successful and prosperous than we are. When people talk about the glories of the first Elizabethan age they are not talking about sixteenth century GDP and balance of payments; they are talking about Shakespeare and Marlowe and Beaumont and Fletcher. If we stop subsidising the arts, the chances of the second Elizabethan age being remembered in the same way as the first will have gone for ever.
Humphrey Appleby
(Sir Humphrey Appleby KCB CVO)
© Sir Antony Jay and Jonathan Lynn, 1 September 2010
To: Bernard Woolley
Subject: Arts budget cuts
We must oppose the cuts to the arts budget with our usual argument, namely that it is justified by the tourist revenue it attracts. This has of course never been proved, and indeed it cannot be. To be frank I doubt if it is true. It has however worked well in the past, largely due to our diligence in getting seats for cabinet ministers at Covent Garden and the National Theatre, and by introducing them to the famous personalities in the arts world. Ministers are notoriously star-struck, and when properly softened up by genuine celebrities – people famous by virtue of their talent and achievement, not simply the posts to which they have been appointed – they have been persuaded to resist the economic evidence
Although we cannot say so in public, the fact is that we do not subsidise the arts because people want to see and hear great works interpreted by famous (and expensive) performers. If people want entertainment they will pay for it. We do not subsidise football matches or speedway or pop music festivals or cinemas showing Hollywood movies or music halls or greyhound racing; these are the chosen pursuits of the great mass of ordinary people, and they are quite happy to pay for them. The point is, we subsidise arts that people do not want to see, certainly not in large enough numbers to make quality performances financially viable.
We subsidise them because it is important for Britain to hold its place in the civilized world. It is, I concede, unfortunate that the great majority of those of us who appreciate art and occupy the subsidised seating at Covent Garden, Sadler’s Wells, The Festival Hall, the National Theatre and the RSC are the well educated and better-off members of society. It is not however unreasonable for people like us, who strive so hard to increase the prosperity and improve the lives of the masses, and who pay such high taxes, to receive some small recompense for our great contribution.
In a few years the current financial and economic crisis will have been resolved, but it would be tragic if we emerged from it without those cultural institutions which make us so envied by other countries which, by a purely economic calculus, are more successful and prosperous than we are. When people talk about the glories of the first Elizabethan age they are not talking about sixteenth century GDP and balance of payments; they are talking about Shakespeare and Marlowe and Beaumont and Fletcher. If we stop subsidising the arts, the chances of the second Elizabethan age being remembered in the same way as the first will have gone for ever.
Humphrey Appleby
(Sir Humphrey Appleby KCB CVO)
© Sir Antony Jay and Jonathan Lynn, 1 September 2010
Thursday, 26 August 2010
Addressing Ministers
From: Sir Humphrey Appleby
To: Bernard Woolley
Subject: Addressing Ministers
This is a problem that often arises with a new administration. Nevertheless when ministers ask us to address them by their Christian names (or ‘first names’ as I suppose we have to say), it is absolutely imperative that we demur and continue to use the title of their offices eg ‘Yes, Secretary of State’, ‘Yes, Chancellor’, ‘Yes, Minister’.
It is not just a question of convention; it goes much deeper. We absolutely have to preserve the fiction that these people, as elected representatives, are running the country. It is of course obvious to even moderately informed observers that they cannot be doing so. They do not have the training or the experience, and the system denies them the opportunity to acquire it. They do not have the continuity – the average minister’s tenure is about eleven months. And they do not have the security of office; they face the sack every five years or less, with the result that securing re-election takes precedence over all other considerations. And their selection process is laughable.
We in central government, on the other hand, are rigorously selected and spend thirty or more years learning the business of our departments. There are half a million of us controlling a budget of six hundred billion pounds, compared with a handful of temporary political incumbents whose parties struggle to raise a few million, mostly from dodgy millionaires. Obviously, therefore, the governance of the country is in our hands. Whether this is a good or bad thing may be debatable; what is beyond question is that it is so.
This is not to say that the politicians are completely useless. Their preoccupation with re-election gives them a sensitivity to popular opinion and a skill in handling press and public relations which can be helpful to us. They are, if you like, our marketing consultants who can tell us the best ways of presenting our actions and decisions, and occasionally suggest changes in policy. But they are temporary. Every five year they have to pitch for our business and may lose it to a rival agency, while we enjoy continuity and permanence.
Clearly the British people must be protected from exposure to these realities of modern governance. They need the fiction of democratic government and popular sovereignty, and it is our job to see that they retain it. This means that we must show the deepest possible deference to their elected representatives, provide them with large offices, chauffeur-driven cars and a staff of high quality. We must exalt them. We must present them as superior beings, as our masters, and behave like self-effacing minions in their presence. It is a small price to pay for the privilege of running a great country. But it means that any idea of addressing them by their first names runs the risk of exposing the illusion and must be resisted at all costs.
Humphrey Appleby
(Sir Humphrey Appleby KCB CVO)
© Sir Antony Jay and Jonathan Lynn, 26 August 2010
To: Bernard Woolley
Subject: Addressing Ministers
This is a problem that often arises with a new administration. Nevertheless when ministers ask us to address them by their Christian names (or ‘first names’ as I suppose we have to say), it is absolutely imperative that we demur and continue to use the title of their offices eg ‘Yes, Secretary of State’, ‘Yes, Chancellor’, ‘Yes, Minister’.
It is not just a question of convention; it goes much deeper. We absolutely have to preserve the fiction that these people, as elected representatives, are running the country. It is of course obvious to even moderately informed observers that they cannot be doing so. They do not have the training or the experience, and the system denies them the opportunity to acquire it. They do not have the continuity – the average minister’s tenure is about eleven months. And they do not have the security of office; they face the sack every five years or less, with the result that securing re-election takes precedence over all other considerations. And their selection process is laughable.
We in central government, on the other hand, are rigorously selected and spend thirty or more years learning the business of our departments. There are half a million of us controlling a budget of six hundred billion pounds, compared with a handful of temporary political incumbents whose parties struggle to raise a few million, mostly from dodgy millionaires. Obviously, therefore, the governance of the country is in our hands. Whether this is a good or bad thing may be debatable; what is beyond question is that it is so.
This is not to say that the politicians are completely useless. Their preoccupation with re-election gives them a sensitivity to popular opinion and a skill in handling press and public relations which can be helpful to us. They are, if you like, our marketing consultants who can tell us the best ways of presenting our actions and decisions, and occasionally suggest changes in policy. But they are temporary. Every five year they have to pitch for our business and may lose it to a rival agency, while we enjoy continuity and permanence.
Clearly the British people must be protected from exposure to these realities of modern governance. They need the fiction of democratic government and popular sovereignty, and it is our job to see that they retain it. This means that we must show the deepest possible deference to their elected representatives, provide them with large offices, chauffeur-driven cars and a staff of high quality. We must exalt them. We must present them as superior beings, as our masters, and behave like self-effacing minions in their presence. It is a small price to pay for the privilege of running a great country. But it means that any idea of addressing them by their first names runs the risk of exposing the illusion and must be resisted at all costs.
Humphrey Appleby
(Sir Humphrey Appleby KCB CVO)
© Sir Antony Jay and Jonathan Lynn, 26 August 2010
Wednesday, 25 August 2010
Think tank report on University Reform
From Sir Humphrey Appleby
To: Bernard Woolley
Subject: Think tank report on University Reform
Your enthusiasm for this report is touching but misplaced. We have known for a long time that if university courses were reduced from three years with long vacations to two years with just three weeks holiday a year, huge sums could be saved without any impairment of instruction.
And we have also known that if all but the top ten percent of students were to live at home and go to their local college, further huge sums could be saved. And of course I share your agreement with the report’s conclusion that we are turning out far too many graduates with worthless pseudo – academic qualifications and far too few with usable craft skills. We produce ten students who can write essays on the history of catering for every one who can cook a decent meal.
All of this, however, has one disastrous and quite unacceptable implication. If the practice recommended in the report were to be adopted it would be impossible to stop our two genuine universities being forced down the same route. It would indeed be excellent if the broad mass of students were to leave higher education with usable, employable skills, but the country still needs a few people at the top level of all its major national institutions who have had the broad and deep education in the humanities that you and I received at Oxford and which, I am credibly assured, is also available at Cambridge. There is of course a need for science, engineering and maths graduates for specialist functions, but only an elite collegiate university with a three-year course can give the best of our young people the time and the leisure to absorb the depth of culture and develop the breadth of intellect that will fit them for the leadership of a great nation. If you look at the top of the great institutions – not just Whitehall but also the Cabinet, the media, the church, the law, the financial system – you will see that they are dominated by the powerful minds and refined sensibilities formed at Oxford and Cambridge. They have made this country what it is today – such a jewel in Britain’s crown cannot be put at hazard just to save a few billion pounds a year.
We should therefore give these proposals the especially enthusiastic welcome we reserve for reports whose recommendations we shall reluctantly find to be unworkable in practice. We should then re-circulate with appropriate revisions and updates, the document we used when this idea came up in 1998, 1980, 1971 and 1965, demonstrating that reducing university courses by a year would add half a million to the unemployed register. That knocked the proposal into the long grass on all the previous occasions, and can be confidently trusted to do so again.
Humphrey Appleby
(Sir Humphrey Appleby KCB CVO)
© Sir Antony Jay and Jonathan Lynn, 25 August 2010
To: Bernard Woolley
Subject: Think tank report on University Reform
Your enthusiasm for this report is touching but misplaced. We have known for a long time that if university courses were reduced from three years with long vacations to two years with just three weeks holiday a year, huge sums could be saved without any impairment of instruction.
And we have also known that if all but the top ten percent of students were to live at home and go to their local college, further huge sums could be saved. And of course I share your agreement with the report’s conclusion that we are turning out far too many graduates with worthless pseudo – academic qualifications and far too few with usable craft skills. We produce ten students who can write essays on the history of catering for every one who can cook a decent meal.
All of this, however, has one disastrous and quite unacceptable implication. If the practice recommended in the report were to be adopted it would be impossible to stop our two genuine universities being forced down the same route. It would indeed be excellent if the broad mass of students were to leave higher education with usable, employable skills, but the country still needs a few people at the top level of all its major national institutions who have had the broad and deep education in the humanities that you and I received at Oxford and which, I am credibly assured, is also available at Cambridge. There is of course a need for science, engineering and maths graduates for specialist functions, but only an elite collegiate university with a three-year course can give the best of our young people the time and the leisure to absorb the depth of culture and develop the breadth of intellect that will fit them for the leadership of a great nation. If you look at the top of the great institutions – not just Whitehall but also the Cabinet, the media, the church, the law, the financial system – you will see that they are dominated by the powerful minds and refined sensibilities formed at Oxford and Cambridge. They have made this country what it is today – such a jewel in Britain’s crown cannot be put at hazard just to save a few billion pounds a year.
We should therefore give these proposals the especially enthusiastic welcome we reserve for reports whose recommendations we shall reluctantly find to be unworkable in practice. We should then re-circulate with appropriate revisions and updates, the document we used when this idea came up in 1998, 1980, 1971 and 1965, demonstrating that reducing university courses by a year would add half a million to the unemployed register. That knocked the proposal into the long grass on all the previous occasions, and can be confidently trusted to do so again.
Humphrey Appleby
(Sir Humphrey Appleby KCB CVO)
© Sir Antony Jay and Jonathan Lynn, 25 August 2010
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