"e e look if the PM wants you to be in the stupid cabinet, the PM will phone back. If you're out, or you can phone back. Telling the whole point is that I ran the campaign against the PM for the leadership. If I'm out, well, who knows? I could take a message. There it is. Hello? Yes, speaking. Oh, it's you, Michael. No, I haven't had a call. Have you had a call? Bill's had a call. What's he got? Europe. Bill's got Europe. Lucky Europe. I didn't know Bill could speak French. You can hardly speak English. Yeah, I'll call you back if I hear anything. Right, bye."

"Fers. Hello? Yes, speaking. The gas board. Good Lord, man, that was weeks ago. Yeah, would you mind? I'm waiting for a rather important call. Look, Mr. Franklin, there happened to be a general election yesterday. Oh, you voted for the other side, did you? How on Earth did you manage to get to the polling booth on the right day? Two assistants, three returns for spare parts. Look, Mr. Franklin. Look, frankly, Franklin, I don't care if the whole central heating system collapses in ruins. I have got to get off this phone. Goodbye. They won't come now. If the PN gives me consumer affairs, they'll come."

"Hello? Hello? Darling, that front door be friend. Did you know Martin's got the Foreign Office? P. He. Jack's got Health and Fred's got Energy. Does anyone got brains? What do you mean, education? No, I know what I mean. But what's left? I mean, what have I got? Rhythm. Frank, I have heard absolutely nothing. Not that it's surprising. My whole career is going down the drain and up the spout because the Prime Minister of England is totally unable to reach me on the electric telephone. You get it? Would you, darling?"

"Hello? Hello? This is the BBC. We were wondering if Mr. Hacker would like to be interviewed on the PM program this afternoon. PM? PM? Hello? Yes, you Hacker here. Are you available this afternoon? Yes, anytime you like. Anytime you like. We were wondering if perhaps we could interview you. I guess I've been hoping you'd call. Tell me, what job do you think you're likely to get? I beg a pardon. Tell me, what job do you think you're likely to get? Hardly for me to say, is it? That's for you to tell me. What, what? I mean, well, it's not up to me to say. I mean, that's for the PM to say. I mean, you're the PM's office. Oh, I see. The, uh, the BBC PM office. That a silly mistake. Yes, goodbye."

"Well, I did try and tell you. You answer the bloody thing. Hello? Uh, Mrs. Hacker speaking. Oh, congratulations, Prime Minister. It's Annie here. Hello? Yes, Prime Minister. Yes, of course. Yes, I, right. I know. I'll be on the next train."

"[Music]"

"Hello, Vic. You know, Appleby, Vic Gold, our Chief Whip. You really are a pain in the ass, aren't you? The PM's going up the wall, hitting the roof. You can't go around making speeches like that. It's open government. Oh, shut up, weasel. Who's asking you? Why he's right. Open government. I mean, it was the main plank in our manifesto. I mean, the PM believes in that. Open. Yes, but not gaping. In politics, you have to learn to say things with tact and finesse. You berk. And when say nothing at all. How long have you been a minister? Week and a half. I think you may have earned yourself a place in the Guinness Book of Records. I can see the headlines already. Cabinet split on us trade. Hacker leads revolt against Prime Minister. That's what you want, is it?"

"Ah, Sir Arnold. What news? That speech is causing the Prime Minister some distress. Has it definitely been released to the press? Well, the minister gave express instructions for noon. Isn't that? I'm appalled at you, Humphrey. How could you let the minister put himself in this position without going through the proper channels? The minister and I believe in open government. We want to throw open the windows and let in a bit of fresh air. Isn't that right, minister? No, minister. It's good party stuff, but it puts the Prime Minister in a very difficult situation personally. What about our commitment to open government? This seems to be the closed season for open government. Do you want to, uh, you want to give thought to a draft letter of resignation? Minister. I mean, just in case. Could we hush it up? You mean suppress it? Yes, I suppose I do. I see. You mean that within the framework of the guidelines about open government that you have laid down, you are suggesting that we should adopt a more flexible posture? I, oh yes, yes. Excuse me, minister. About the press release, there appears to have been a development which could precipitate a reappraisal of our position. Apparently, we failed to rein the inter-departmental clearance procedure. Ah, the supplementary stop order came into effect, did so. It's, it's all right, minister. Your, your speech hasn't gone to the press. It's only gone, it's only gone to the Prime Minister's private office, and the duty officer had no instructions to pass it out without clearance from the PM and the Foreign Office. The American reference, you see. But how come? The fault is entirely mine, minister. The procedure for holding up press releases dates back to before the era of open government, and I unaccountably omitted to resend it. I do hope you'll forgive this lapse. Well, yes, of course. That's quite all right, Humphrey. Quite all right. Thank you, minister. After all, we all make mistakes. Yes, minister."

"The people of Banda urged the Scots and the Irish when the English oppression cast off the imperialist yoke and join the fellowship of free nations. Good God, yes. Well, minister, we would appear to have been caught with our trousers down. H. He can't say this in front of her. Well, I don't like to say I told you so, but I told you so. We got have egg all over our faces. Not egg, minister, just imperialist yoke. Three Scottish by-elections on Thursday. Well, yes, it is indeed a catastrophe, a tragedy, a cataclysmic, apocalyptic, monumental calamity. And you did it, Humphrey. You are paid to advise me. Advise me. Well, this is not unlike trying to advise the captain of the Titanic after he struck the iceberg. Must be something we can do. We could sing 'Aide With Me'. Yes, minister. Oh, yes. The Foreign Secretary would like a word. Ah, Foreign Secretary. Have you read this? Yes. My minister's concerned that the government will have egg all over its face. Scotch egg, presumably. Why is he doing it? Well, maybe it's for home consumption. He's only just taken over. Perhaps he's trying to persuade the other African leaders that he's a pukka anti-colonialist. Yes, yes. The, the Press Officer would like a word. Dear, room for a little. Do you think it's a good idea to issue a statement? Well, minister, in practical terms, we have the usual six options: one, do nothing; two, issue a statement, appling the scene; three, lodge an official protest; four, cut off aid; five, break off diplomatic relations; and six, declare war. Which should be? Well, if we do nothing, we implicitly agree with the speech. Two, if we issue a statement, we just look foolish. Three, if we lodge a protest, it'll be ignored. Four, we can't cut off aid because we don't give them any. Five, if we break off diplomatic relations, we can't negotiate the oil rig contract. And six, if we declare war, it might just look as though we were overreacting. In the old days, we just sent in a gunboat. Yes, I suppose that is absolutely out of the question."

"[Laughter]"

"Minister, the Permanent Under Secretary of the Foreign Office is coming down the corridor like the Black Hole of Kolkata. May I come in? Minister, you can try. This is all we needed. Welcome to the Standing Committee. So you've seen this, this abominable speech? What are we going to do about? Well, Minister, Foreign Secret, I, I think we know what's behind it, don't we, Humphrey? Humphrey, I think Sir Frederick is suggesting that the offending paragraph may be, shall we say, a bargaining counter. You mean you want something? But if he doesn't, why send us an advanced copy? See. Well, why did you find out what it is he wants? Because the embassy staff are all new. We've only just seen the speech, and no one knows anything about this new president except me. Except you. How? They were at university together. Old boy network. Hey, that was 25 years ago. He may not even remember me. No, I, I don't really think I could. I think you ought to see him. Mr. Frederick? No, minister. I think you'll carry more weight. Well, we're all agreed then that the mountain shall go to Muhammad. Oh, no, no, no. Jim's going. That's what I meant. All right, but you'll have to come with me. Well, of course, minister. I'd hardly let you do it on your own. You read it. I've read it. Have you read this? He's read it. Let me read it to you. We've read, read it. Let's get rid of Jim Hacker by John Pilgrim, our special investigator. The Right Honourable Jim Hacker, MP, promised to carry out the government's pledge to slim down the Civil Service and to wipe out the interference from the Whitehall and town hall busy bodies. But how many people realize that to take just one example, more people serving the Inland Revenue than the Royal Navy? It's true. I believe it is, minister. Perhaps the government thinks that a tax is the best form of defense. Oh, that's rather witty. And have you read this bit? I have read it. I have discovered that no less than four ministries check the supply of the same armor uniforms. The Ministry of Defence checks to see they get what they ordered. The Department of Industry checks to see they have been manufactured according to government regulations. The Treasury checks the bills. And Jim Hacker's mob just checks up on everyone else. Jim Hacker is the most obvious case of overmanning in Whitehall. Let's start by getting rid of him and saving at least one salary. Frank, why did you read me that? I told you I'd read it. Because I'm your political advisor. Do you realize how politically damaging this is for you? Good morning, minister. Have you read this? Yes, yes, yes. I have read it. I have read it. You have read it. He has read it. We have all bloody read it. I make myself clear? Abundantly. Minister, I'm sorry. Sit down, Humphrey. We have got to slim down the Civil Service. How many people have we got in this department? Uh, this department? Oh, very small. Small. How small? Oh, I don't know. Um, 2,000, 3,000. Um, about 23,000, I think, minister. 23,000 in the Department for Administrative Affairs. 23,000 people just administering other administrators. We'll have to do a time and motion study. See who we can get rid of. We did one of those last year, minister. It transpired we needed another 500 people. However, minister, we could always close your bureaucratic watchdog office. Oh, no, you don't. I've already just opened it. It's the one thing I've done since I got here. Well, as you wish, minister. But it has been criticized as a troublemaker's letter box. I know. It's very popular with the voters, Humphrey. Gives them the chance to help us find ways to stop wasting government money. Public doesn't know anything about wasting government money. We're the experts. That's not what I meant. Well, the bureaucratic watchdog office stays. Well, offhand, I can't think of what else to suggest. Are you seriously telling me that there is no way we can cut down? Well, I suppose we could lose one or two of the tea ladies. Oh, do wish you take this seriously. Tea ladies. I want the facts. I want to know who works here, what they do, what buildings we have, what goes on in them. A complete record. Then we'll know where to cut costs, cut staff, cut procedures. The Civil Service, minister, exists to implement legislation enacted by Parliament. As long as Parliament continues to legislate, the Civil Service must continue. However, I'm fully seized of your requirements, minister, and if you excuse me, I'll go and set the wheels in motion. Morning, Mr. Weasel. Weasel, did you know that a North West Regional Controller has achieved cuts of 32.2 million in his region alone, and that the Civil Service is suppressing the whole story? This is true. Well, if it is, I'm a gas. Well, why are they suppressing it? Because if he can save money, everyone else will have to do it. Why don't you look into it? Have a bit of a ferret around. Do you think I could? I think that's a very good idea. Mr. Ferret at Weasel. Uh, it's just Mr. Bruff, this morning, minister. Our Director of Manpower Planning for the North East region. You remember? Yes. Uh, staff reductions. And then straight to the House for question time and a 7:00 division and 8:00 the French Prime Minister's reception at his Embassy. Right. Uh, if you will excuse me, minister, I must take the schedules down to the Whips' office. Bon, bon. Oh, yes, it is worth it, you know. Sent to page three pictures. Yes, I have read it, minister. See this one of me. The cheese roll and the cardboard plate. No luxury lunches in Hacker's new austerity regime. Economy begins at home, said Jim Hacker today, as he set an example to Britain's pampered army of bureaucratic hated bureaucrats. Terrific. Yes, you have to me already. At least, great, isn't it? Oh, yes. CM eyes on the beaches. Excuse me. Yes, yes. I would like to see the minister. Uh, do you have an appointment? My name's Ron Watson. I'm the General Secretary of the Union of Civil Service Transport and Associated Government Work. Uh, yes, Mr. Watson. We're very disturbed about rumors of cutbacks and redundancies affecting our me. I'm sorry, Mr. Watson, you can't see the minister now. You must have an appointment. Look, uh, phone me tomorrow. But why can't I arrange it now? I'm sorry. Oh, right. All right. Andy, see if you can make an appointment for Mr. Watson to see the minister next week. Next week? Oh, Mr. Bruff. Yes, we're expecting Mr. Bruff now. Oh, when's it due at Houston? Oh, well, we'll just have to cancel it for today then. Yes, yes. I'll tell him goodbye. I'm sorry to keep you now. About your appointment, when would be convenient? The, uh, meeting's canceled then. Yes. Right. So I can see him now? Oh, no, I'm afraid not. You see. Oh, would you excuse me just a moment? Yes. No, he's not here. Well, um, he's gone over to the Whip's office, actually. Well, would you like the extension? Ah, uh, Mr. Bru. No, Mr. Brooks had to cancel the meeting. My name's Ron Watson. Oh, I'm glad you could get here instead. Anyway, down, won't you? Oh, thank you. Now, Mr. Um, uh, Watson. Mr. Watson, before we start, there's one thing I must make absolutely clear. This must not get out. If the unions were to get to hear of this, all hell would be let loose. Oh, yes, of course. There'll be redundancies. You simply, you simply can't slim down a giant bureaucracy like this without getting rid of people. Ultimately, a lot of people. Won't you be holding discussions with the unions first? We'll go through the sherard of discussions, but you know what trade unions to like. Thick as two short planks and bloody-minded, all of them. Pretty well. Good Lord, you should know. All, all they're interested in is poaching each other's members and getting themselves on the telly, and they can't keep their big mouth shut. What about, uh, drivers and transport service staff? First to go. Good Lord, we waste a fortune on cars and drivers, and they're all on the fiddle. Because, as I was trying to explain, I'm not Mr. Bru's deputy. I'm the General Secretary of the Union of Civil Service Transport and Associated Government Work. I, I, and I came here to check there was no truth in the rumor of redundancies for my members. Well, I, I, I, I, I didn't. All I meant. Oh, God. Hello, darling. Thank you, George. Good night. Good night. Sir. Hello, darling."

"[Music]"

"Hello. Leaving me at last. It's our anniversary. Mor, have you forgotten? No, of course I haven't forgotten. We're going to Paris. Oh, my God, you had forgotten. No, I hadn't. No, it's just I, I, I didn't. I'm double. I'm going to Swansea tomorrow. Swansea and Newcastle. And want to go to Swansea and Newcastle for my anniversary? Not you, just me. Cancel them. I can't. What are you doing? Cancel them. We booked this 3 months ago. I can't. Then I'll go to Paris without you. Bernard. Yes, it's me. Look, I'm going to have to cancel tomorrow, Swansea and Newcastle. Well, you see, it's my wife's wedding anniversary tomorrow. It's yours too? Yeah. And mine too, actually. Yes, it is. What do you mean, coincidence? Don't s. Anyway, I'm going to Paris tomorrow, and that's final. Yes, I know I said before that it's final, but this time it is final. Well, you'll just have to C as best you can, that's all. Yes, yes, definitely. Yes. Is that clear? Right. We're going to Paris. No, I'm going to Swansea and Newcastle. See me on TV tonight? I saw somebody who looked like you. What's that meant to mean? Nothing. Frank, weasel says I've just become a civil service mouthpiece. Yes. What do you mean? Yes. Oh, yes. You mean you agree? Of course. Do you mean, of course? I mean, you could have hired an actor to say it all for you. He'd have said it better. And while you're at it, why not just sign your letters with a rubber stamp? Or get an Assistant Principal to sign them for you? They write them anyway. Assistant Principals do not write my letters. Under Secretaries do that. I rest my case. Mad. You don't think I've just become a puppet, do you? Yes, I do. Maybe you should get Miss Piggy to do your job. At least she's prettier. I don't know what to do about it. I'm just swamped by the work. I'm so depressed. Look, as we're not going to Paris, let's at least go out for a quiet little dinner tonight at the trattoria on the corner. No, I can't. Bernard's told me I've got to get through three red boxes tonight. What do you mean, Bernard told you? Oh, darling, when you edited Reform, you were quite different. You went in, you told people what to do, you demanded what you wanted, and you got it. Now, either you get them by the throat, or they get you by the throat. How many articles did you blue pencil and tear up in those days? Dozens. And how many official papers have you torn up? I'm not allowed to. Not allowed to, darling. You're the minister. You can do anything you like. The fact of the matter is that the Civil Service and I are in complete accord over this whole business, and I'm happy to announce that we are now ready to put our proposals into publication. In fact, tonight I can say that from September the 1st, every citizen of the UK will have the absolute right to inspect his personal file and check any information that he or she has ever supplied to the government. Second, no civil servant will be allowed to examine personal files from another department without a written authority from a minister. And I shall be announcing in the House next week legislation enabling citizens to take legal action against any civil servant who gains unauthorized access to his file. Encouraging, minister. Why did you not say so in the first place and put people's minds at rest? Frankly, I didn't believe that the Civil Service could meet our deadlines. Godfrey, but they've convinced me that they can. And in fact, my Permanent Secretary has staked his reputation on it. If not, heads will roll. Anyway, assistant heads. Well, thank you very much, minister. It can't be done. It's been announced on television. Well, Bernard, what did you make of our minister's performance? Well, I, I, I think it's checkmate. See me on the box last night? H. Of course, minister. How was I? Good. A most remarkable performance, minister, if I may say so. May you? May. Thank you, minister. Well, minister, we've been working very hard all night, and I'm happy to be able to tell you that we have come up with some draft proposals which would enable you to achieve your desired objectives by the stated dates. Well done, Humphrey. You see, I told the nation how splendid you were. I was right. I had every confidence in you. Quite so, minister. Must have had quite a night. Yes, minister. Quite a night. Let's see your proposals. Here they are. And here are mine. What? You have specific proposals to them? No, indeed. I have. Now, Humphrey, you read out what you've got on safeguards, and I'll read out what I've got, and we'll see how they compare. Personal data. 1A. Safeguards must be applied with reference to two criteria: the need to know and the right to know. 1A1. The need to know. Only those officials for whom the information may be deemed primarily to have a need to know. We seem to be of the same mind. Humphrey. Indeed. Where did those proposals come from, minister? Can you hear me? Where did those proposals come from, Humphrey? My lips are sealed. Just one more thing, minister. The evidence to the Central Policy Review Staff. We me the think T. Yes, minister. What about it? Have you redrafted the redraft of your draft? You don't want it yet, do you? Yes. Why? Well, so that we can redraft it. No, that won't be necessary. I think it will, minister. Drafting is not a Civil Service monopoly, you know. No, it's a highly specialized skill which few outside the service can master. Nonsense. Draft is easy. It's a game anyone can play. Not without getting huffed. So, could I have the draft proposal, please? Certainly, Humphrey. When? Minister. Later. Humphrey. Yes, but when? Well, you're always saying we mustn't rush things, aren't you, minister? I must ask you for a straight answer on what day. Tomorrow? Monday? Tuesday? In due course, Humphrey. At the appropriate juncture. In the fullness of time. When the moment is right. When the necessary procedures have been completed. Nothing precipitate, of course. Minister, this is getting urgent. Urgent. Humphrey. What a lot of new words we're learning now. Minister, you'll forgive me if I say this, but I'm beginning to suspect that you are concealing something from me. Oh, surely you and I have no secrets from each other, have we, Humphrey? 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. Well, you're the expert on straightforwardness. So what about the draft evidence to the Central Policy Review Staff? Well, since you ask, Humphrey, and to be perfectly straightforward. Mhm. I have redrafted it myself. I don't want you to redraft it. I am perfectly happy with it as it is. May I be bold enough to ask what you have said? I've said what I wanted to say. Phase reductions in the Civil Service. Yes, but I, Humphrey, you have frustrated me over open government. You have frustrated me over the economy drive. But this time, I'm going to have my way. The party wants it. The public wants it. And I'm bound to say that all we get from the Civil Service is delaying tactics. Well, I wouldn't call Civil Service delays tactics, minister. That would be to mistake lethargy for strategy. Very Dr. Hy. But you must realize that there is a real desire for radical reform in the air. The all-party select committee on administrative affairs, which I founded, is a case in point. It's a great success. Oh, indeed. What has it achieved? Nothing yet. P is very pleased with it. Ah, why? 10 column inches in last Monday's Daily Mail for a St. Oh, I see. The government is going to measure its success in column inches, is it? Yes. No. Yes and no. Now, minister, the evidence that you're proposing to submit is not only untrue, it is also, which is much more serious, unwise. Now, we've been through all this before. The expansion of the Civil Service is the result of parliamentary legislation, not bureaucratic empire building. So when this next comes up at question time, you want me to tell Parliament that it's their fault that the Civil Service is too big? But it's the truth. Minister, I don't want the truth. I want something I can tell Parliament. H. You're my Permanent Secretary. You're supposed to enact my policies. Yet I still don't understand why you seem implacably opposed to them. I must know where you stand at all this. Where one stands, minister, depends upon where one sits. Am I to infer that you'll not support me? Oh, we'll always support you, minister, but as your standard bearer, not as your pole bearer. H. What are you saying? I should have thought it was crystal clear, minister. Do not send this report to a body whose recommendations are to be published. That is exactly why I'm sending it now. I don't want to hear any more about. Everybody knows this Euro Pass thing won't happen. Well, the PM's got to play along with it until after the Napoleon Prize is awarded. Napoleon Prize? Yes, it's a NATO award given once every 5 years. Gold medal, big ceremony in Brussels, £100,000. A PM's the front runner this time. It's for the statesman who's made the biggest contribution to European unity since Napoleon. That is, if you don't Hitler. So what? Well, the awards committee sits in 6 weeks' time. Well, obviously the PM isn't going to rock the boat until it's in the bag. You don't put boats in bags. What's? Oh, nothing, minister. Once the prize is awarded, the PM will obviously dump the Euro Passes. Martin, how many people know about the winner of the Napoleon Prize? It's top secret. Oh, you mean everyone. No, no. Top secret. Well, that's it then, Humphrey. Don't you see? See what, minister? Back patches. Leaks. What? The Welsh Nationalist Party? No, no, no. Sorry, Foreign Secretary. I'll come back. No, no, no. Don't, don't go. The very man. Come on in, Daniel. I want to ask your advice. You know, I give any help I can, minister, though if it's a question of shutting stable doors after horses are bolted, even I am powerless to help. Advice-wise, I don't think it'll be powerless in this case. It's really sort of moral dilemma. Look, supposing a backbencher would have put down a, a question for the Prime Minister asking whether the Europass, which backbencher, Europass is top secret. Oh, you mean like the winner of the Napoleon Prize is top secret? I think the minister meant a hypothetical backbencher. Quite so. B. It. Thank you. A hypothetical backbencher and a hypothetical question to the PM asking whether or not Britain was going to adopt the Europass. Highly improbable. Oh, I agree. Highly improbable. But suppose the PM were to answer yes, it would be very damaging in the country. Yes. And suppose the PM were to answer no, it would be very damaging in Europe. To the PM personally. Napoleon Prize-wise. Now, suppose a hypothetical minister were to get to hear of this hypothetical question in advance. What should he do? Well, the only responsible course would be to ensure that the question was not tabled. That must be obvious. Serious business, trying to suppress an MP's question. Nevertheless, there is no other cause. The only way to stop him might be to get him to put down a question asking the Prime Minister to squash the rumors about the closure of the Department for Administrative Affairs. Oh, I'm sure. Whatever made you think? No question of anything but the fullest support. But you said only yesterday that a plan to abolish the Department had been put up and the PM was smiling on it. No, smiling at it. Smiling at it, not on it. All idea was ridiculous, laughable, out of the question. Joke. A joke. It's a joke. I, you didn't imagine so. That a minute from the Prime Minister's office confirming this and squashing the rumor will be circulated to all departments within 24 hours, so that we can all share it. U, joke-wise, I mean, do you really think it's necessary? Yes, yes. Well, I'm sure something can be arranged. If you'll excuse me. Checkmate. I think. Game, set, and match. But can Daniel Hughes really fix this? I mean, don't Prime Ministers have minds of their own? Certainly. But as President Nixon's henchman once said, when you've got them by the balls, their parts and binds will follow. So you think this might not get into the national press? Well, a few lines on the inside page of the Guardian, but nothing to worry about. Actually, it's only the urban middle class who worry about the preservation of the countryside because they don't have to live in it. Would that be all? This? Yes. No. This may well blow over. But it doesn't answer my basic question, which was why wasn't I told about it before I made the announcement? There are those who have asked, argued, and indeed recently that on occasion, there are some things it is better for a minister not to know. What are you talking about? Minister, your answers in the House, at the press conference, were superb. You were convincing and convinced. The critics were silenced. But could you have spoken with the same authority if the ecological pressure group had been ab badgering you? But I have a right to know. I am the people's representative. What right have you got to withhold this information from me? It's intolerable. It's in your own best interest, minister. What do you mean? There are something things that is better for a minister not to know. I mean, it's outrageous. It must not occur again. It so happens that I've got a plan here for the reorganization of this department which will ensure that it doesn't. Indeed. Yes, indeed. Now, if I were to have one under secretary and two assistant secretaries reporting directly to me. Minister, please. No, just a moment. Humphrey, let me tell you my plan. The plan is immaterial, minister. I have something to say to you which you may not like to hear. Why should today be any different, minister? The traditional allocation of executive responsibilities has always been so determined as to liberate the ministerial incumbent from the administrative manui by devolving the managerial functions to those whose experience and qualifications have better formed them for the performance of such humble offices, thereby releasing their political overlords for the more onerous duties and profound deliberations which are the inevitable concomitant of their exalted position. Now, whatever made you think I wouldn't want to hear that? Well, I thought it might upset you. How could it? I didn't understand a single word. Country, for God's sake. For once in your life, put it into plain English. If you insist. You are not here to run this department. Pick a Pon. You are not here to run this department. I think I am. The people think I am too. With respect, minister, you are. They are wrong. And who does run this department? I do. I see. And what am I supposed to do? We've been through all this before. Make policy. Get legislation enacted. And above all, secure the Department's budget in cabinet. I sometimes think that the budget is all you ever really care about. Well, it is rather important, minister. If nobody cared about the budget, we might end up with a department so small that even a minister could run it. Humphrey, are we about to have a fundamental disagreement about the nature of democracy? No, minister, merely a demarcation dispute. What I mean is that the meal chore of running a department is beneath you. Your fashion for a nobler calling. Well, I'm quite prepared to leave the routine paperwork to you, but I must insist on direct access to all information. Never again do I want to hear that phrase: "There are some things that is better for a minister not to know." Is that clear? Well, minister, I do. That is an order. Humphrey. As you say, minister. If that is what you really want. It's treating cabinet ministers as though they were irresponsible 10-year-olds. Miss Hacker intends to join the badger protest. Oh, I thought it was over. No, she and her boyfriend are going to conduct a 24-hour Save the Badger vigil in Haywood Spinney unless the protection order is restored. And they're putting their announcement out to the press at 5:00 p.m. Minister's daughter in badger protest vigil. That's a little embarrassing, but it's not too serious. So, Humphrey, I think the minister is going to be more than a little embarrassed. What do you mean? Minister's daughter in nude badger protest? What, uh, yes. Miss Hacker and her boyfriend will be, uh, that is, will not, not be. I mean, I guess. Do you mean starers? Bernard. Yes, sir. I see. Well, this puts a different complexion on it. Yeah. Especially in this weather. But in crude journalistic terms, this makes it a big story. Front page with photograph. Something the matter? Well, well, shall we say a, a slight embarrassment. Minister. How slight? Well, without wishing in any sense to overstate the case or cause undue alarm, nevertheless, the fact. Come on. I'm free. Out with it. Minister, I have a confession to make. That's a change. Come on, H. Make a clean breast of it. Not the happiest of phrases. Under. How do you mean? I have to confess that the badgers in Haywood Spinney may turn out to be a somewhat bigger story than we thought. No, don't tell me they're got to have kittens. Now, it's not the badgers who are going to have kittens, minister. There's going to be a 24-hour protest vigil in Haywood Spinney. Well, you tell me it wouldn't be very newsworthy. No, this is slightly different, minister. It's to be conducted by, by a girl student and her boyfriend. Just the two of them. Yeah. Well, they don't matter, do they? Pair of irresponsible layabouts. Well, they might matter to some people. Nonsense, Bernard. Everybody has fed up with these ghastly students. They're just exhibitionists, you know. Well, in this case, it would seem they have something to exhibit. It's to be a nude protest vigil. I see. Yes, that would make the front pages. Yes. Quite so. Well, the press just mustn't find out, really. I don't know what gets into these students. It's appalling. They're shameless. Indeed, minister. It's their parents, you know. They don't bring them up properly. Just let them run wild, then feed them all this trendy middle-class anti-establishment nonsense. Well, perhaps it isn't entirely the parents' fault, minister. Of course, it is. Authority, Humphrey. All this student anarchy is a shocking indictment of their parents' lack of authority and discipline. So they just take it out on innocent people like me. Who are they? Do we know? Well, we know the young lady's name. Lady. Who is she? Well, it seems she's a Miss Hacker. That's my name. That's a coincidence. Not a complete coincidence. Not Lucy. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. As you see, she will be telephoning in 10 minutes' time. Perhaps the press won't be all that interested. No, but will they really think it worthwhile going all the way up to Warwickshire for a story like this? I fear they'll think it worth going all the way to the South Pole. H. Good morning, minister. Morning, Andre. Morning, Bernard. Sorry I'm late. Just put them on the. Would you, George? I'll be about an hour. I don't want to be late at Broadcasting House. Right, sir. What's this broadcast all about, by the way? NATO, isn't it? Uh, no, minister. Partnerships in Industry. Oh, yes. Knew it was something like that. Who else is in it? It's all in there, minister. An employer and a trade unionist, as usual. Joe Morgan, wasn't he the TU representative on the Sol H project? Uh, minister. Uh, yes, minister. You are not proposing to refer to the Sol H project on the air? Certainly. I regard it as a shining example of cooperation between the government and private industry. Yes, but all the same, I would be much happier if it were omitted. Why? Well, don't you think it's rather premature? Certainly. Not building started months ago. Exactly. Um, rather out of date, in fact. Premature and out of date? Well, untimely. Don't you think it'd be rather uninteresting to the general public? Certainly. That is something that's going on right now. Extremely interesting. Yes. Quite so. Um, so interesting, in fact, that there is a danger that it might obscure your main point. Perhaps. What is my main point, Bernard? What's the minister's main point? Oh, yes. That private projects are more socially responsible with government money, and government projects are more efficient with private investment. Are you? See, it underlines my main point. You really are a wet blanket, aren't you, Humphrey? Just go about stirring up apathy. Minister, I must seriously advise you, with all the earnestness at my command, not to refer to the Sol H project on the air today. Why? What I said. Why? Why? Why? Well, minister, couldn't it be that you're planning to take the credit for this yourself? At next month's European Convention of Government Administration, I beg your your keynote speech will make very good reading, won't it? Well, let me tell you a few facts of life, Humphrey. It is politicians who are responsible ultimately to the people, and it is we who get the credit, not civil servants. Minister, I would be perfectly happy, happy for you to have the credit for this project, but I must beg, beseech, and implore you, not today. No, it's no good, Humphrey. I'm not going to fall for it. I'm going to get all the political capital I can out of the Sol Hall project. Minister, I must. Good thing when I see one. Please, minister, do listen to. No, no, minister, no. Humphrey. What? 75 million? Probably bankrupt. Proceeding imminent collapse of project. Imminent collapse of project. H. Why didn't you tell me all this before? Minister, I am deeply conscious of the heavy burdens of. When this becomes public knowledge, it to be all over the front pages. It's a public scandal. A disaster. It's, it's appalling. Wait a minute, Jim. Look, this report is dated before the election. You're in the clear. You're laughing. Yes, but unfortunately, under the convention of ministerial responsibility, the blame. But everyone will know it wasn't Jim. Quite so. But the principle of democratic accountability requires the occasional human sacrifice when the pack is baying for blood. Isn't that right, minister? Surely he has only to point to the T. Oh, a lesser man might try to wriggle out of it, but there is only one honorable course open, as the minister is well aware. Don't you think Frank might have a point? Except, of course, any today, minister. You have publicly identified yourself with the success of the project. My God. The broadcast. Yes, minister. When's it going up? Well, it's due for transmission about now. Uh, yes, I'm afraid, sir. Get on to the BBC at once. Yes. Stop it, Bernard. Stop what? Minister. Oh, yes. Well, minister, I wish you luck. But you know what the BBC. Alive. Crisis. An emergency. This is a scandal. Of course. I'm sure if you to put it like that, they might. Might what? Move it to peak listening time. Any luck, brother? I just like to find out. There is a perfect example of what can be done. It's going on up in Sol Hall now, and government money and private investment in real partnership. And it does seem to me symbolic of everything this government is working for. I've taken a great deal of personal interest in this early half project, and it's not just words, it's actually there in Britain anymore. Symbolic of everything this government is working. Humphrey, how could you let me say all those things? Minister, I can only advise. I did advise. I advised most strongly. But when the advisor advises un. All right, all right, all right. Advise me now. Certainly, minister. Now, it is possible that the bank may take over the contract from Bradley and Sloan Enterprises Limited, and all will be well. The bank? Fine. The bank, however, is hesitant. But it so happens that the director in charge is to retire next year, and he's anxious to find another appointment. A chairmanship of a quango, for instance. Well, give him one. Give him that one you were reserving for that idiot Desmond Glaz. Who is the director in charge? Desmond Glaz. He's not a bad chap. He's always attacking the government in public. Yes, well, it does us good sometimes to appoint our opponents. I mean, you know, it's democratic. Statesmanlike. Yes, I've changed my mind. I think that's a very good appointment. But you go shut up. Frag. Anybody else know about this? Well, apart from ourselves and the bank and Michael Bradley, only the union representative on the project, Joe Morgan, of course. That's what was behind his special Birmingham alarms claim. Blackmail was quite terminable. I've been thinking, if Desmond Glazebrook is going to be chairman, he'll need some support, won't he? Now, I was thinking of a deputy chairman. Someone with real experience of industry. An excellent thought, minister. Is there anyone you could advise me would be particularly appropriate? Do you think a trade unionist, for example? Um, what about Joe Morgan? Minister. Joe Morgan. Excellent idea. Well done, Humphrey. Oh, it takes two to quango, minister. E."

"[Music]"

"B. Is it important? I have to finish these cabinet defense papers. I'm afraid this is much more urgent, minister. What is it? Your Christmas cards, minister. They cannot be postponed any longer. All right. Oh, which is which? Well, they're all clearly labeled, minister. These you sign Jim. These you sign Jim Hacker. These Jim and Annie. These Annie and Jim Hacker. These love from Annie and Jim. Oh, those are printed. And those have Cy-styled signatures. So you needn't write anything. Just check to make sure they don't include cards that should have been personally signed. Jim, or Jim Hacker, or Jim and Annie, or Annie and Jim Hacker, or love from Annie and Jim. What about those? Oh, those are the constituency cards. Your election agent dropped them off this morning. As you see, they've been divided up. Those who sign Jim. Those who sign Jim Hacker. Those Jim. Those Annie and Jim Hacker. Those. Thank you, Bernard. I think I've got the gist. Is that the lot? Apart from the ones waiting for you at party headquarters. Party headquarters? I didn't do those last Christmas. Well, you weren't party chairman last year. Do I have to send this one? Uh, why not? It's to Maurice in Brussels. He's the one who forced through the plan to standardize the Euro sausage. Euro. By the end of next year, we shall be waving goodbye to the good old British sausage, and we'll be forced to accept some foreign mark like salami or bratwurst or something in its place. But they can't stop us eating the British sausage, can they? They can stop us calling it the sausage, though. Apparently, it's got to be called the emulsified high-fat aul tube. And you swallowed it. It's my job to implement EEC regulations. Could finish my career. But what have they got against our sausage? Oh, dear. Don't you ever read the papers? You give me. Well, yes, I glanced at it, minister, but it'd rather put me off. Apparently, there's not enough meat in it. The average British sausage consists of 32.5% fat, 6.5% rind, 20% water, 10% rusk, 5% seasoning, preservative and coloring, and only 26% meat, which is mostly gristle, head meat, other off-cuts, and mechanically recovered meat steamed off the carcass. I had one. I had one for breakfast. Perhaps the EEC commissioner is right. You may be right. But to be extremely unpopular with the voters. Oh, well, she'll just have to grit our teeth and bite on the bullet. Uh, you can't bite a bullet if you're gritting your teeth, minister. You see, if you do that, you can't get the V. Sorry, by the way, Bernard, you were going to advise me what presents it would be suitable to give to the private office. Uh, well, of course, that's entirely up to you, minister. Bottles of sherry for the assistant secretaries. Large boxes of House of Commons mints for the diary secretary and the correspondent secretary. And small boxes of House of Commons mints for the rest. What about my personal private secretary? Oh, that's me. Ah, yes, of course. What should I give you? Well, you don't have to give me anything. I know that, Bernard. But I'd like to. Oh, minister. Well, anything, really. Tad. Well, really, I would like a surprise. What sort of surprise should I give you? A bottle of champagne is the customary surprise. What time is my meeting with Humphrey? Oh, that's being canceled, minister. Sir had to rush away to an urgent meeting with the Cabinet Secretary. The Cabinet Secretary almost makes me feel rather nervous, you know. In some ways, Sir Arnold is the most powerful chap in the country. Permanent access to the PM, controls cabinet agenda, controls access to everything. What, what is up? Enjoying yourself? Yes, yes. Thank you, minister. Enjoy yourself. Lovely party. Yes, minister. It's rightfully good fun. Always good to let get your hair down, isn't it? Right. Now, I think it's, uh, it's time I said a few words. This is a very, very special occasion for us all. Peace on Earth. Good Will to all men. Sorry, person persons. It's always good to have this little get-together amongst the people who serve me, uh, work with me, for me. No, with me. Here at the Department of Administ, the Ministry of Administ, at the DA. We're a team. We, I, the cabinet. Except we're all on the same side. Not, not that the cabinet. No. Well, I meant really the shadow cabinet. Yeah. Let's keep politics out of this season. Well, that's why Parliament doesn't sit over Christmas, eh?"

Sir Humphrey: Sees the Goodwill, even to one's officials. Well, what can I say? Humpy.

Sir Humphrey: Sir Humphrey, app. Thank you very much. I would, uh, just like to thank you all for all the hard work you've done all these years. Um, occasions like this engender a certain emotional ambiguity and personal ambivalence.

Sir Humphrey: What's ambiguous about it? While one is, one should say, honored by the cause of one's departure, one is saddened by the fact of it. In particular, saddened by having to leave the service of a minister without parallel in one's experience.

Sir Humphrey: That's jolly. Break. A unique partnership. Absolutely unique. So I should end, I think, by wishing a happy Christmas to you all, but in particular to a minister whom, in the brief time that we've had him with us, we've watched grow in standing, in stature, and inurance of touch. So, see no felicitations to you all, but please, please do remember the Home Secretary's campaign for the holidays. Don't drink and drive this Christmas.

Jim Hacker: I'll drink to that. I do wish you'd let me drive, Jim. I'm driving perfectly stedy. We do have to get home before dawn.

[Music]

Police Officer: Oh, good evening, Kinal. I see your license, sir. Yes, certainly. Aren't you Mr. Jim Hacker?

Jim Hacker: Yes, that's right. All to the trouble? Any reason you were driving so slowly?

Police Officer: Well, I didn't want the curb to hit. I didn't want to hit the curb. Look, I got a silver badge somewhere.

Police Officer: I see. Perhaps you'd like Constable Evans to drive you the rest of the way.

Jim Hacker: Oh, no, it's all right, Officer. I'll drive.

Police Officer: All right, Mrs. AA, if you're in a proper state to drive. Why don't drink, officer?

Mrs. Hacker: Well, not or my husband's driving. Not I hardly are things at the campaign for the Freedom of Information, by the way.

Police Officer: Sorry, I can't talk about that.

Jim Hacker: So, will the new PM be our eminent Chancellor or our distinguished Foreign Secretary?

Sir Humphrey: Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Which do you think it should be?

Jim Hacker: Difficult. Like asking which lunatic should run the asylum. Trouble is, they're both interventionists. They both have foolish notions about running the country themselves.

Sir Humphrey: If they became Prime Minister, have we any allies?

Jim Hacker: No. Quite a few. Yeah. Chief whip, particularly. And he's worried that whichever gets the job will antagonize the others' supporters and split the party. So we're looking for a compromise candidate. Malleable, flexible, likable, no firm opinions, no bright ideas, not intellectually committed, without the strength of purpose to change anything. Someone who, you know, can be manipulated, professionally guided, and leave the business of government in the hands of the expert.

Jim Hacker: Oh dear. Oh dear. Oh dear. It's impossible.

Sir Humphrey: Why? Why? A lot of the government would welcome a, shall we say, less interventionist leader.

Jim Hacker: Well, not the other two candidates. They might be persuaded, but to stand aside? Yes. Have you had a chance to glance at their MI5 files?

Sir Humphrey: No. Oh, you should always send for cabinet minister MI5 files if you enjoy a good laugh.

Bernard Woolley: Oh, burnard. Yes, sir. Just thank you very much. Yes, doy. Doy. Thank you. Happy New Year, by the way.

Sir Humphrey: Oh, thank you very much. Right. So this is our very last piece of daa business.

Jim Hacker: Yes, I'm afraid so. Sir Humphrey. Oh, well. Vet. Just let me ask you something. What would you say to your present master as the next Prime Minister?

Sir Humphrey: The minister? Yes. Mr. Hacker? Yes. As Prime Minister? Yes.

Jim Hacker: Are you in a hurry?

Sir Humphrey: No. I'm just checking to see it wasn't April the 1st.

Jim Hacker: Are you suggesting that your minister is not up to the job of Prime Minister?

Sir Humphrey: Oh, no, sir. It's not for me to, uh, well, I mean, of course, I'm, I'm, I'm sure he's, uh, oh, gosh. There is a considerable body of opinion that can see many advantages in the appointment for Britain. For Britain? Yes. Well, yes. So we trust you to ensure that your minister does nothing incisive or divisive over the next few weeks. Avoids anything controversial. Expresses no firm opinion about anything at all. Now, is that quite clear?

Jim Hacker: Yes.

Sir Humphrey: Well, I think that's probably what he was planning to do anyway.

Jim Hacker: Minister, come PR. Was all the hurry?

Sir Humphrey: Yes. I'm so sorry. I've just been able to arrange a brief meeting with the European Commissioner.

Jim Hacker: Nice, but he's flown out this morning.

Sir Humphrey: No, his flight's been delayed. Oh, so. Well, I think we might be able to persuade him to solve our little sausage problem.

Jim Hacker: How?

Sir Humphrey: Excuse me. Yes. Oh, yes. Ask him to come in. Will. Thank you. Leave it to me. Just, um, just give me support when I ask for it. Ah, m is a Very. Yes, Jim. Do what do I with this pleasure? The minister asked me to arrange this little meeting to see if you could, um, help us with a problem.

European Commissioner: Problem? Of course. Now, the problem is that the EEC is becoming very unpopular over here. Isn't that so?

Jim Hacker: Min. Absolutely. Very unpopular.

European Commissioner: And you want to restore its image? Yes? No? No. And the problem is that the minister feels that there would be more votes, that he would be better expressing the views of the British people by joining the attack on the EEC than by leaping to its defense.

Jim Hacker: Exactly. But, but your government is committed to support us.

Sir Humphrey: The minister's point, as I understand it, is that the government's commitment is to the concept and to the treaty. Treaty. It's not committed to the institutions, nor to the practices, nor to individual policies. The minister was giving me an example the other day, weren't you, minister? About food production.

Jim Hacker: Oh, yes. I've discovered that one of your officials spends all his time paying farmers to produce masses of surplus food, while somebody in the next office pays people to destroy the surpluses.

Sir Humphrey: That's not true. No. Is not in the next office. Not even on the same floor. And the minister has hundreds of similar examples, haven't you, minister? And the knob of the problem is that the minister is beginning to think that some member of the cabinet ought to start telling the British people about them.

European Commissioner: That would be intolerable. Even the the Italians wouldn't stoop that low. Aren't being asked to redesignate salami as a massified high-fat aul tubing. Ah, and what are you proposing? After all, we are committed to ammonization. We cannot col the sage. What do you suggest?

Jim Hacker: Well, politics is about presentation. Why don't we call it the British sausage?

European Commissioner: British sausage? British? Yes. I think we could, uh, recommend that to the commission.

Jim Hacker: Splendid. The minister's always said that the EEC is a splendid institution, haven't you, minister?

News Anchor: Today's big story about the proposed European ban on the British sausage has caused a major political storm. Westminster sources say the sausage could be another banana skin, only add the government's problems with the succession. Senior people in the party are increasingly troubled by the fact that the two obvious candidates for the leadership represent the extreme wings of the party. Pressure is mounting for them to withdraw in favor of a compromised candidate, but none of the other contenders so far seems to have caught the public imagination. Our sport. There only two matches in the.

Jim Hacker: Is that true about the compromised candidate? I believe so. Where do they get their information from? I can't imagine. But anyway, I never said compromise, I said moderate. Incidentally, minister, why are BBC television and ITN covering your speech this evening?

Jim Hacker: I can't imagine, Bernard. I mean, I know that, uh, fire safety policy in government buildings is awfully important. Someone suggested that I was going to raise other issues as well. Who can't imagine? Better. I am a good European. I believe in the European ideal. Never again shall we repeat the bloodshed of the two World Wars. Europe is here to stay. But this does not mean that we have to bow the knee to every directive from every little bureaucratic burnard in Brussels. We are a sovereign nation still. We are British and proud of it.

[Applause]

Jim Hacker: We have made enough concessions to the European commissar for agriculture, and when I say commissar, I use the word advisedly. We've swallowed the wine lake. We've swallowed the butter ban. Watch our friends beating up British l d was carrying good British lamb to the French public. We have bowed and scraped and doed our caps, tugged our for loocks, and turned the other cheek. But I say, enough is enough.

[Applause]

Jim Hacker: The Europeans have gone too far. They are now threatening the British sausage. They want to stand it on by, which they mean they'll force the British people to eat salami and garlic-ridden greasy food, alien to the British way of life. Do you want to eat salami for breakfast with your bacon? I don't. And I won't.

[Applause]

Jim Hacker: They turned our pints into liters and our yards into beers. We gave up the tanner, the threepenny bit, the two-bob piece, and the half-crown. But they cannot and will not destroy the British sausage, not while I'm here. In the words of Martin Luther, here I stand.

[Applause]

Bernard Woolley: Uh, Minister. A message came through from Central House while you were in cabinet committee.

Jim Hacker: Yes? Yes?

Bernard Woolley: They brought the party meeting forward. It started an hour ago.

Jim Hacker: Brought it forward? Yes. Any moment now, the committee will have decided whether or not they're going to bring up another candidate to oppose you in the election. But the Chief Whip will be phoning through the moment it's over.

Jim Hacker: Oh, will they? What, what if they? Which phone? Which phone would he ring on?

Bernard Woolley: Oh, um, oh, this one, probably. Or this one. Either, really. The only danger is if Duncan an edct withdrawal, which they will. They might not support me, and that'll mean an election.

Jim Hacker: Yes, quite. But I understand that you're the favorite candidate for both factions. In which case, you'd be unopposed.

Bernard Woolley: That's what they say. Oh, well. No point in worrying about it. As well, sit down, relax. Yes. Yes. Yes. Bernard has an urgent message.

Jim Hacker: Minister?

Bernard Woolley: The, uh, the Palace have been on the phone.

Jim Hacker: The Palace? Palace? Why?

Bernard Woolley: They want to know if you'll be free to kiss hands at 5:00.

Jim Hacker: That's only in the event of an unopposed recommendation. Think I might be able to make that. Suppose if that, you know, if I, um, I should still want a principal private secretary. Do you think?

Bernard Woolley: Home minister? Gosh, that would be all right, wouldn't it? Humphrey. Well, the Prime Minister's word is law, minister.

Jim Hacker: Yes. Yes. Yes. He's here. I'll tell him.

[Laughter]

Prime Minister: Yes. Prime Minister. Can we go again? Yeah. Have you got that new script there about?

Jim Hacker: Oh, yes. Prime. The Trident program is too expensive. By cancelling it, we shall release billions of pounds to fund an imaginative and radical attack on the nation's problems. What this country needs is a two.

Prime Minister: Can we hold it? What was wrong?

Jim Hacker: Um, no. It's very good, Prime Minister.

Prime Minister: Minister, just, just, just a minute about it. Yes. Um, do you mind not leaning forward like that? It makes you look as though you're selling insurance. Ur. And also, it makes you look up at the lens like a sort of supplant. You should really be looking down from on high.

Jim Hacker: Yes, I see. Uh, what this country needs, what this country needs, what this country needs.

Malcolm: And I have drafted a slightly different version to this speech.

Prime Minister: Let's see. We shall, of course, be reviewing a wide range of options over the whole field of government expenditure.

Malcolm: But this doesn't say anything.

Jim Hacker: Oh, thank you, Prim. An in. Oh, you're too kind. No, no. I don't like it. All right. You could say urgently reviewing. No.

Malcolm: Well, I do think it should be toned down a bit. How?

Prime Minister: Any thoughts, Malcolm?

Malcolm: Well, uh, what about the Trident program? Is a heavy burn on your tax bill? 50 billion is a lot of money, and we should be looking at it very carefully to see if it merits the amount it costs. Yes. Yes. All right. It's okay to mention figures as covery. Yes. I mean, practically no one takes them in, and those who do don't believe them. But, um, it makes people think you've got the facts at your fingertips. And, uh, don't forget, people don't know you're reading them off the teleprompter.

Prime Minister: Ah, apart from that, it was fine, wasn't it? Uh, yes. You were going a bit slowly.

Malcolm: Well, the teleprompter thing was going a bit slowly.

Prime Minister: No, no, no. It follows your speed. Um, try going slow and then fast. Okay. Oh, and kill the Trident program. Is a heavy burden on your tax bill. 15 billion is a lot of money. And, Prime Minister, would you mind not saying "your tax bill"?

Jim Hacker: Oh, why not?

Malcolm: Well, it makes you sound as though you're not one of the people, you know. It's like the ruler talking to the ruled. Them and us. See.

Jim Hacker: What should I say? Our tax bill? I mean, you pay tax too. Yes.

Malcolm: Change that, would you? Better.

Jim Hacker: Uh, yes. Prime Minister. I still think it's very direct.

Malcolm: Oh, good. Thank you. M. No, I mean, lots of people's jobs in this country depend on Trident until there's been a consultation.

Jim Hacker: Yes, that's a thought, Malcolm. Well, we could say, uh, defense expenditure is one of those areas which this government will be looking at closely to see if we can achieve the same level of defense at a lower cost.

Malcolm: That's too long. Can you make it two sentences?

Jim Hacker: No. Why?

Malcolm: Um, what promise? It's just that we find that if a sentence goes on over three lines, then by the time it gets to the end, most people have forgotten how it began, including the person speaking. Two sentences.

Jim Hacker: Welcome. And, um, you are beginning to, um, lean forward again a bit.

Malcolm: But that's what I do when I want to look sincere.

Jim Hacker: Yeah, but the trouble is, it makes you look like someone who wants to look sincere. If you lean back, you look relaxed and in control.

Malcolm: That's it. F that. As far as that. That looks as though you've had a liquid lunch. You can always underline bits of the script where you want to look sincere, and then you just, um, frown and say them a bit more slowly. Anything else?

Jim Hacker: Um, well, your face is a bit wooden.

Malcolm: Yeah, only when you're speaking. Um, you see, in normal speech, you move your head and eyebrows and cheek muscles and so. So don't let the teleprompter turn you into a zombie. Okay. Thank you. Defense expenditure, one of the areas which this government will be examining closely. It may be that we can achieve the same.

Prime Minister: Minister, that's just a little bit too. But that silly grand design, Bernard. That was precisely what you had to avoid. How did this come about? I shall need a very good explanation.

Bernard Woolley: Well, he's very keen on it.

Prime Minister: What's that got to do with it? Things don't happen just because Prime Ministers are very keen on them. Neville Chamberlain was very keen on peace.

Bernard Woolley: Yes, he thinks, he thinks it's a vote winner.

Prime Minister: Ah, that's more serious. Don't. What makes him think that?

Bernard Woolley: Well, the party who had an opinion pulled down it seems all the voters are in favor of bringing back national service.

Prime Minister: Well, I have another opinion poll done showing the voters are against bringing back national service. They can't be for it, against. Course they can. Bernard, have you ever been surveyed?

Bernard Woolley: Yes. Well, not me, actually. My house.

Prime Minister: Oh, I see. What you mean. But did you know what happened? This nice young lady comes up to you. Obviously, you want to create a good impression. You don't want to look a fool, do you?

Bernard Woolley: No. No.

Prime Minister: So she starts asking you some questions. Mr. Willie, are you worried about the number of young people without jobs? Yes. Are you worried about the rise in crime among teenagers? Yes. Do you think there's a lack of discipline in our comprehensive schools? Yes. Do you think young people welcome some authority and leadership in their lives? Yes. Do you think they respond to a challenge? Yes. Would you be in favor of reintroducing national service? Oh, well, I suppose I might. Yes or no? Yes. Of course you would. Bernard. After all, you've told you can't say no to that. So they don't mention the first five questions. They publish the last one.

Bernard Woolley: Is that really what they do?

Prime Minister: Well, not the reputable ones. No. But there aren't many of those. So, alternatively, the young lady can get the opposite result. How? Mr. Woy, are you worried about the danger of war? Yes. Are you worried about the growth of armaments? Yes. Do you think there's a danger in giving young people guns and teaching them how to kill? Yes. Do you think it's wrong to force people to take up arms against their will? Yes. Would you oppose the reintroduction of national service? Yes. There you are, you see. Bernard, the perfect balance sample. So we just commissioned our own survey for the Ministry of Defense.

Bernard Woolley: See to it, Bernard. Yes. But, uh, what about the broadcast? When's he expecting to do it?

Prime Minister: I don't know. Sometime next month, I suppose.

Bernard Woolley: Well, perhaps you'll tell him it'll be in 11 days' time.

Prime Minister: 11 days? That's a bit soon. Suppose he refuses?

Bernard Woolley: Well, then you can tell him that we've just learned from the Joint Broadcasting Committee that the opposition will be holding a party political in 18 days' time, and he's entitled to get his ministerial in first, of course, if he wishes. The first political broadcast of his premiership to be given by the opposition. That's fine.

Prime Minister: Um, is that true?

Bernard Woolley: It will be if you don't mention it till tomorrow. But he could still announce his new policy.

Prime Minister: I don't think so, Bernard. He'll have only one meeting with his cabinet colleagues in the Overseas Policy and Defence Committee to clear it.

Bernard Woolley: I understand all his cabinet colleagues are in favor of it.

Prime Minister: Yes, but only personally. Bernard. Only politically. But are they in favor officially, as responsible departmental ministers?

Bernard Woolley: Oh, I see. I suppose that will depend on the advice they get, will it?

Peter Jenkins: Thank you very much indeed. Thank you for your cigarette paper. Your paper on. Thank you.

Prime Minister: Is this serious?

Bernard Woolley: Prime Minister? What do you mean by?

Prime Minister: Well, it's always been the practice in the past to discourage anti-smoking speeches by ministers and not to print or distribute their speeches if they make them.

Bernard Woolley: Well, I want Peter's speeches printed and distributed. I want everybody to know.

Prime Minister: Yes. Prime Minister. Uh, do you think you will win this one? The tobacco lobby is incredibly powerful.

Bernard Woolley: Well, some you win, some you lose. Bernard. This one I shall definitely lose.

Prime Minister: And why? If you were the Treasury, which would you rather do without? Half a billion in tax cuts or 4 billion pounds in lost tobacco tax revenue?

Bernard Woolley: Well, the tax cuts is smaller.

Prime Minister: Exactly. That's what I want, and that's what I shall get. Oh, it's Sir Humphrey. Can he have a word?

Bernard Woolley: Yes, of course. Yes. Come in, please.

Sir Humphrey: Oh, Prim Minister. H. I was just wondering, did you have an interesting chat with Dr. Thorn?

Prime Minister: Yes. He proposed the elimination of smoking by a campaign of mass hypnosis, perhaps by raising tobacco taxes sky-high, simultaneously banning all advertising, including point-of-sale.

Sir Humphrey: Do you think his position is admirably moral?

Prime Minister: Moral, perhaps, but extremely silly. No man in his right mind could possibly contemplate such a proposal.

Sir Humphrey: I'm contemplating it.

Prime Minister: Yes, of course. Prime Minister, please don't misunderstand me. It is quite right, of course, that you should contemplate all proposals that come from your government. But no sane man would ever support it.

Sir Humphrey: I'm supporting it. And quite right too. The only little problem is that the tax on tobacco is a major source of revenue for the government.

Prime Minister: It's also a major source of deaths from killer diseases.

Sir Humphrey: Yes, indeed. But no definite causative link has ever been proved, has it? The statistics are prove anything with statistics, even the truth. Here, smoking-related diseases cost the NHS 165 million a year.

Prime Minister: Yes, but we've been into that. It has been shown that if those extra 100,000 people had lived to a ripe old age, they would have cost us even more in pensions and social security than they did in medical treatment. So, financially speaking, it's unquestionably better that they continue to die at about the present rate. When cholera killed 30,000 people in 1833, we got the Public Health Act. When smog killed 2 and a half thousand people in 1952, we got the Clean Air Act. A commercial drug kills half a dozen people, and we get it withdrawn from sale. Cigarettes kill 100,000 people a year, and what do we get? 44 billion a year, 25,000 jobs in the tobacco industry, a flourishing cigarette export business, helping our balance of trade. 250,000 jobs related to tobacco. News agents, packaging, transport.

Sir Humphrey: Speakers? Just guesses? No, they're government stats. They're facts.

Prime Minister: I see. So your statistics are facts, and my facts are merely statistics. Prime Minister, I'm on your side. I'm merely giving you some of the arguments that you will encounter.

Sir Humphrey: Thank you, Harry. I'm so glad to know that we shall have support such as yours. But, Prime Minister, it will be pointed out that the tobacco companies are great sponsors of sport. Now, where would the BBC Sports programs be if cigarette companies couldn't advertise? Couldn't sponsor the events that they take?

Prime Minister: Humphrey, we're talking about 100,000 deaths a year.

Sir Humphrey: Yes, but cigarette taxes pay for a third of the cost of the National Health Service. We're saving many more lives than we otherwise could because of those smokers who voluntarily lay down their lives for their friends. Well, B. Well, Prime Minister. Very well. B. Things are going very well indeed.

Jim Hacker: Oh, uh, good. I've got the Treasury on the run. And the Chancellor.

Sir Humphrey: Oh, is that good? When he's a member of your own government? Of course it's good. You've got to learn to come to heel. Got to learn to cooperate.

Jim Hacker: What do you mean, cooperate?

Sir Humphrey: I mean obey my commands. See? That's what cooperate means when you're Prime Minister.

Jim Hacker: Prime Minister, why are these tax cuts in your interest? I know the Treasury hates giving money back, but it's your government too.

Sir Humphrey: Fa simple. Cutting taxes by one and a half billion pounds is going to win us masses of votes. But my ministers are more interested in getting money for their own departments than in supporting me. So I'm using my support for Peter Thorn as a little leverage on the Treasury.

Jim Hacker: Your loyal support? Precisely. In order to get their loyal support. And after you get the tax cut, you will withdraw your loyal support from Peter Thorn.

Sir Humphrey: Dear, dear. BL. How can be so cynical? I shall simply rearrange my priorities. Humph is waiting to see you outside.

Jim Hacker: Send him in at once. Yes. Prime Minister. Your word is my cooperation. I'm Minister. Everything all right?

Sir Humphrey: Everything? I'm afraid, Prime Minister, is very far from all right.

Jim Hacker: Yeah. What's the trouble?

Sir Humphrey: Your anti-smoking legislation.

Jim Hacker: What about it?

Sir Humphrey: Well, notwithstanding the fact that your proposal could conceivably encompass certain concomitant benefits of a marginal and peripheral relevance, there is a countervailing consideration of infinitely superior magnitude involving your personal complicity and corroborative malfeasance with the consequence that the taint and stigma of your former associations and diversions could irredeemably and irretrievably invalidate your position and culminate in public revelations and recriminations of a profoundly embarrassing and ultimately indefensible character. Perhaps I could have a PR here. There's nicotine on your hands. You mean all the hospitality that we've enjoyed at BTG's expense? Champagne receptions, buffet lunches, the best seats at sporting and cultural events. What's the problem? The tobacco companies may release this embarrassing information to the press.

Jim Hacker: It's not embarrassing. I've had drinks at the Soviet Embassy. That doesn't make me a Russian spy. Well, oh, well. No. Let them do their worst. Anything else?

Sir Humphrey: Well, Prime Minister, there is another vital point to bear in mind. A lot of people, eminent people, influential people, have argued that such legislation would be a blow against freedom of choice.

Jim Hacker: Rubbish. I'm not banning smoking itself. Does every tax rise represent a blow against freedom?

Sir Humphrey: Well, depends how big the tax rise is. That's fascinating. Does 20p represent a blow against freedom? Prime Minister, 25p, 30p, 31p. It's something a blow against freedom simply because it can seriously damage your wealth. Prime Minister, I must warn you of the difficulties I foresee.

Jim Hacker: All sorts of unforeseen problems. Such as?

Sir Humphrey: If I could foresee them, they wouldn't be unforeseen. P. Why did you allow Sir Hred to come in here when I explicitly told him not to?

Bernard Woolley: Well, I couldn't stop him.

Jim Hacker: Why not?

Bernard Woolley: He's bigger than me. It must be confined to the cabinet office and how lock the communicating door. He has a key.

Jim Hacker: Take his key away from it. Take his key away from him. Take his key away from him. You take his key away from.

[Music]

Bernard Woolley: Sorry, Prime Minister, but I don't think it's within my power.

Jim Hacker: I'm giving you the power, Bernard. I am authorizing you. But I don't know whether I, I mean, Cy, he'll go completely potty. Got to you about it. Yes, but, uh, freedom. Bernard. Yes, but I am authorizing you. Bernard. Yes, you alone, Bernard, will have access to the Prime Minister. But, but, but me. No buts, Bernard. Shakespeare. Oh, no. Prime Minister. But me, no buts. Is Cirker 1820. Mrs. S. L. used the phrase in 1708, but actually it was Scott's employment of it in the Antiquary in 1816 which made it fashionable.

Jim Hacker: Shall we keep to the point, please? B. Yes. Prime Minister, there's only one problem. If I'm to take his key away from him, what reason can I possibly get?

Bernard Woolley: Take B. Find a reason. Yes. Yes. Prime Minister. Thank you. Prime Minister, thank me no thankings, Bernard. Hacker. Bernett. He. It's me. Look, I'm coming through to Number 10. I'd like a with the Prime Minister, please.

Bernard Woolley: No, sir.

Jim Hacker: What did you say?

Bernard Woolley: I said no, sir.

Sir Humphrey: Humphrey? No. Yes. Oh, that's better. For a moment, I thought you said no. I did say no.

Bernard Woolley: The Prime Minister is busy.

Sir Humphrey: Then I'll come and see you. I'm busy too.

Bernard Woolley: What?

Sir Humphrey: So Hter, you may not come in. You do not have permission.

Bernard Woolley: I'm coming anyway. Away, your little runt. You couldn't believe his ears.

Sir Humphrey: What did he say?

Bernard Woolley: He's coming anyway. Are you feeling strong enough?

Sir Humphrey: No. It's all right. He can't come in. I tell security to take his key from his office.

Bernard Woolley: My God, no. Bnard. It's just your boss.

Sir Humphrey: I'm staggered. I'm fairly surprised myself. Well, how did you get through a solid door? Where's my key gone? You must have a spare. Where's my key?

Bernard Woolley: The Prime Minister, uh, told me to have it removed.

Sir Humphrey: That's not correct. What you mind de is nothing you with you. Thank you. The Prime Minister does not have it within his power to deprive me of my key. It's his house. It's a government building. Well, I believe it's the Prime Minister's decision who comes into his house. After all, I don't give my mother-in-law the key to my house. I am not the Prime Minister's mother-in-law. Look, Bernard, would you excuse us? Dear lady. Yes, very. Bernard, I don't want us to fall out over this. It's so pretty of the Prime Minister. You and I are going to have to work together for some years yet. But Prime Ministers come and go, whereas your career prospects depend upon those who have the power over promotions and appointments on a long-term basis. I must insist you tell me how you came in. Sorry. You must have a personal key. Now, I insist you hand it over. Well done.

[Laughter]

Bernard Woolley: Hello. Is that security? Change the locks on the door connecting the cabinet office to this house, and then bring me all the keys. Yes, all the keys at once. Open this door. Open this door. You'll pay for this. Open the bloody door.

Security Guard: I'm sorry, sir. Do you have an appointment?

Sir Humphrey: I'm Sir Humphrey Applebe.

Security Guard: I know that's Sir Humphrey. Do you have an appointment?

Sir Humphrey: I'm the Cabinet Secretary.

Security Guard: Yes. Do you have an appointment?

Sir Humphrey: I don't need an appointment. I've got a pass.

Security Guard: May I see it, please? Assist. All right. Now, no, sir. That's a cabinet office pass, not a Number 10 pass. You know me, damn it. There's a new top security instruction on Fraser. No one, no matter how familiar, may enter without a Number 10 pass unless they're on the daily list, or unless Mr. Bernard Wooy gives permission. Would you like defir Mr. Woy, sir? Yes. No. Yes. Was that a yes, sir? I have Sir Humphrey Applebe here wishing to enter by the front door. Would you ask Mr. Will if he may be admitted?

Bernard Woolley: I'm sorry, Sir Hred. I can't find Mr. Wy at the moment, and he left no word, so we can't let you in.

[Laughter]

Jim Hacker: Oh, look. It's.

[Laughter]

[Music]

Sir Humphrey: Humphrey. It's all. Turn that noise off. It's all right. It's all right. Perfectly safe.

Jim Hacker: To what do we owe this pleasure, Minister?

Sir Humphrey: Minister, I must protest in the strongest possible terms my profound opposition to a newly instituted practice which imposes severe and intolerable restrictions upon the ingress and egress of senior members of the hierarchy and which will, in all probability, should the current deplorable innovation be perpetuated, precipitate a constriction of the channels of communication and culminate in a condition of organizational atrophy and administrative paralysis which will render effectively impossible the coherent and coordinated discharge of the function of government within our majest United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

Jim Hacker: You mean you've lost your key. Who cinet meeting? D. I want a triple Scotch.

Sir Humphrey: Oh, as bad as that. Why?

Jim Hacker: Apparently, the financial crisis is much worse than we thought. All the cabinet have got to make cuts in their spending plans.

Sir Humphrey: Well, Bnard, would you like a Scot?

Jim Hacker: Oh, yes. So could I have a large one, please? Another triple?

Sir Humphrey: No, no. Humphrey should have seen this coming and warned me. I don't think Sir Humphrey understands economics, Prime Minister. He did read Classics, you know.

Jim Hacker: Well, that's a frank. He's head of the Treasury. Well, I'm afraid he's an even greater disadvantage in understanding economics. He's an economist. Economic crisis. Can't the cabinets see they've got to be cuts? They can see they've got to be cuts in other departments, not in their own. So this morning, you ordered a clamp down.

Sir Humphrey: I can't order anything. T. I'm only the Prime Minister. In charge. No, not a leader. Can only lead by consent, consensus. That's democracy.

Jim Hacker: So who is in charge if you're not?

Sir Humphrey: Well, nobody, really. It must be. That's what democracy is all about. And as if that weren't enough, I've got a deputation of MP coming to see me this afternoon about a pay rise I promised them.

Jim Hacker: What will you say?

Sir Humphrey: I just say I deeply sympathize, which I don't. They fully deserve their money, which isn't true, and that I shall make it my first priority as soon as the crisis is over, which I shan't. But if they go and vote themselves a whacking great pay rise and then tell everybody else there's no money for their pay rises, it doesn't do very much for the dignity of Parliament, which it doesn't.

Jim Hacker: But aren't they underpaid? In fact, underpaid backbench MPs? Darling, being an MP is a vast subsidized ego trip. It's a job for which you need no qualifications. There are no compulsory hours of work, no performance standards, in a warm room and subsidized meals for a bunch of self-opinionated windbags and busybodies suddenly find people taking them seriously because they've got the letters MP after their name. How can they be underpaid when there are about 200 applicants for every vacancy? You could fill every seat 20 times over, even if they had to pay to do the job. You were a backbench MP only five years ago.

Sir Humphrey: I was the exception. I was the cream. I rose to the top. You think what you say will shut them up?

Jim Hacker: Who knows? But the public will never stand for MPs giving themselves a pay rise when we're having to cut back on nurses and teachers. Nurses and teachers.

Sir Humphrey: So that's a much more serious problem. No, no. Ding. Much less serious. Nurses and teachers can't vote against me till the next election. Backbenchers can vote against me at 10:00 up tonight.

Sir Humphrey: Humphrey, I've just had a very stormy meeting with my back benches.

Jim Hacker: Oh, I'm so sorry. I mean, if I'd had some warning, I could have softened the map a bit in advance. But the paper only arrived the night before cabinet.

Sir Humphrey: Oh, indeed, Prime Minister. Most regrettable. Well, it's up to you how your cabinet secretary. You must insist that we get papers circulated earlier.

Jim Hacker: Alas, there are grave problems about circulating papers before they're written. Why the sudden crisis? The Treasury must have seen it coming.

Sir Humphrey: Prime Minister, I am not the permanent secretary to the Treasury. You must ask S. Frank.

Jim Hacker: What would S. Frank say?

Sir Humphrey: It is not for a humble mortal such as I to speculate on the complex and elevated deliberations of the mighty. But in general, I think S. Frank believes that if the Treasury knows that something has to be done, the cabinet shouldn't have too much time to think about it.

Jim Hacker: But that's an outrageous view.

Sir Humphrey: Yes, indeed. It's known as Treasury policy. Where the cabinet has questions, what I think S. Frank's view is that, um, on the rare occasion when the Treasury understands the questions, the cabinet doesn't understand the answers.

Jim Hacker: Prime Minister, I'm doing a paper on this civil service pay claim. But if it's really urgent, I can give you an immediate response.

Sir Humphrey: Yes, please. What's your answer?

Jim Hacker: I haven't got an answer. More a series of questions.

Sir Humphrey: What for me? For Sir Humphrey? The claim is clearly self-serving and inappropriate, and is significant for the questions it leaves unanswered. Right. Far away. All right, but I think you should treat this as highly confidential, or you'll never catch Humphry out. First, first of all, you should ask what deduction.

Bernard Woolley: Yeah. Traffic. George, that's for you. I think. All right for me to go in? B. Uh, yes. Sir Humphrey. Can I just mention one thing?

Sir Humphrey: Yes, Bernard. It, um, there has been movement on what subject? On a subject on which the Civil Service hoped there would be no movement.

Bernard Woolley: The Civil Service generally hopes there will be no movement on any subject.

Sir Humphrey: Uh, yes. AR. But what I mean is, it's in relation to a subject which is normally holy and exclusively within the control of the Civil Service that developments have developed.

Bernard Woolley: You're speaking in riddles, Bernard.

Sir Humphrey: Oh, thank you, sir. That was not a compliment. B. Make yourself clear, please.

Bernard Woolley: I'm sorry, Sir Hy. My lips are sealed. Uh, I am referring confidentially to minutes that I was duty bound to make of a confidential conversation between the Prime Minister and one of his confidential advisers, which advisor. I'm sorry, Sir Hy. I'm not at liberty to divulge her name.

Sir Humphrey: Thank you, Bernard. And this confidential advice was to do with the financial crisis, was it?

Bernard Woolley: Oh, no, Sir Hy. Much more important. Not his silly nuclear strategy. Much more important.

Sir Humphrey: You don't mean the Civil Service pay claim?

Bernard Woolley: What you advise, Bernard? Well, I advise you consider your position carefully. Uh, perhaps adopting a more flexible posture while keeping your ear to the ground, covering your retreat, and watching your rear.

Sir Humphrey: Thank you, Bernard. You've been a great help. Uh, actually, Sir Hy, I haven't told you anything.

Bernard Woolley: I should hope not, Bernard. That would have been most improper.

Sir Humphrey: Prime Minister. Humis here. Flexible. Ah, Humphrey, come in. Thank you. B. Tell me, me, what you think of this? What you make of it?

Jim Hacker: Well, it is rather a large document for an instant judgment. You only have to read the one-page summary at the top. Ah, oh, well, good. Well, well, Prime Minister, you place me in a very difficult position. Do I have now? Look, I realize you have to have loyalty to your colleagues, but you also have a broader loyalty to cabinet and its policy.

Jim Hacker: I agree.

Sir Humphrey: You agree? Yes. You agree with me. I agree with you. I, I don't. Who do you agree with? With you. Not friend. No. You're not arguing with me. No. Perhaps I haven't made myself quite clear. I agree with you. Well, what do you make of that pay lan?

Jim Hacker: Well, it's not excessive in itself, but at a time of national stringency, it is neither wise nor in the national interest. I don't like to criticize my colleague, but in my view, Sir Frank, though no doubt acting from the best of motives, should have placed the good of the nation before the narrower sectional interest of civil servants. You see, this claim raises serious questions.

Sir Humphrey: That's interesting, cuz I've made a note of some questions too. Uh-huh. Good questions. Where did they come from?

Jim Hacker: Occur to me. Yes. Well, they're very good questions. Oh, Humy. Sher. Yes. Thank you. H. What's a modernist in the Church of England?

Sir Humphrey: Ah, well, the word modernist is code for non-believer.

Jim Hacker: You mean an atheist?

Sir Humphrey: No, no. Prime Minister. An atheist layman couldn't continue to draw his stipend. So when they stop believing in God, they call themselves modernists.

Jim Hacker: How could the Church of England suggest an atheist as Bishop of Beris? Edans?

Sir Humphrey: Well, very easily. The Church of England is primarily a social organization, not a religious one, is it? Oh, yes. It's part of the rich social fabric of this country. So Bishops need to be the sort of chaps who speak properly, know which knife and fork to use, the sort of people one can look up to. So that's what Peter meant when he said that Canon Stanford's wife was eminently suitable.

Jim Hacker: Of course. Is there really no other possible candidate?

Sir Humphrey: Well, not really. There were a couple of better jobs available recently. Us see. What's better than a bishop? A rook. Very droll. No, the Dean of Windsor is a better job, or Westminster. Such preferment enables one to be on intimate terms with the Royals. Being a bishop is just a matter of status, a question of dressing up in cassocks and G. Yes, though gaiters are now only worn at significant religious events like the Royal Garden Party.

Jim Hacker: Well, the church is trying to be more relevant to God.

Sir Humphrey: No, of course not, Prime Minister. I, relevant in sociological terms. So the ideal candidate from the Church of England's point of view would be a cross between a socialite and a socialist.

Jim Hacker: Precisely. Me. Just interrupt. May I give you the career details of Canon Stanford?

Sir Humphrey: Yes, please do.

Jim Hacker: Well, after theological college, he became chap to the Bishop of Sheffield. He moved on to be the diocesan adviser on ethnic communities and social responsibility. He also organized conferences on Interfaith interface and interface between Christians and Marxists, and between Christians and the women of Greenham Common. Then he went on to be the university chap at the University of Essex, then vice-principal of a theological college, and is now, as you know, secretary to the disarmament committee of the British Council of Churches.

Sir Humphrey: Has he ever been an ordinary vicar of a parish?

Jim Hacker: Heavens, no, Prime Minister. Clergymen who want to be Bishops try to avoid pastoral work.

Sir Humphrey: What you're saying is that Canon Stanford is a political troublemaker.

Jim Hacker: Well, not exactly. But it could be a thorn in your side on several issues: strikes, public expenditure on welfare, inner cities, unemployment, defense. It's interesting, isn't it, that nowadays politicians want to talk about moral issues and Bishops want to talk politics? And he'd speak with the authority of a Bishop, and as a member of the Lords, he designed a new church in South London, and on the plans were places for dispensing orange juice, family planning, and organizing demos, but no place for Holy Communion.

Sir Humphrey: Are you serious?

Jim Hacker: Well, there was a dual-purpose hall in which you could hold a service, and the church approved this.

Sir Humphrey: Well, of course. You see, the church is run by theologians.

Jim Hacker: How do you mean?

Sir Humphrey: Well, theology is a device for enabling agnostics to stay within the church.

Jim Hacker: I don't want Canon Stanford.

Sir Humphrey: Well, what am I to do?

Jim Hacker: Well, you could turn both candidates down, but that would be exceptional and not advised, even though one of them wants to get God out of the Church of England and the other wants to get the Queen out. The Queen is inseparable from the Church of England. What about God?

Sir Humphrey: I think he's what's called an optional extra.

News Anchor: Good evening. News is just coming in that after two weeks in Kumran, the Dean of Bailey College, the Reverend Christopher ER SMI, has succeeded in obtaining the release of Fiona McGregor, British nurse held there in prison. Miss McGregor was being held awaiting a sentence of 40 lashes for the alleged crime of possessing a bottle of whiskey. She and the Dean are expected back in England tomorrow, and now for the rest of the news. The pound had another bad day.

Jim Hacker: So it's true? I can't believe it. It's a disaster. Disaster. Who's idea was it to send that meddling parson to Kumral? Can't imagine. Bishop of Banre. Per. We have the situation completely under control at the Foreign Office.

Sir Humphrey: Yes, of course you did. Made our protest. The nurse would have been quietly flogged and stuffed into some Kumani jail within a couple of weeks. The press would have forgotten about the whole thing. Still, no real damage done.

Jim Hacker: Well, it's terrific damage to the Foreign Office. We've almost got agreement to set up signals listening post in Kumran. We said we wouldn't make any more fuss about the nurse if they signed. Now we've lost our best bargaining counter.

Sir Humphrey: Well, you could always find another nurse and plot a bottle of Scotch on her.

Jim Hacker: I didn't think we could do that. No, no, no. It's too dangerous. Still, at least it's got that nurse's ghastly mother off my back. She's been writing and phoning and telling the press that we haven't been doing anything extraordinary, and the press taken her part. They've been going on about being more patriotic. Extraordinary. We said a lot of unpleasant things about the Foreign Office, but we've never been accused of patriotism. You know, sometimes I can't quite believe the newspapers' abject ignorance of diplomatic realities. But we may have a problem with the PM now.

Sir Humphrey: You know, you mean because we advised him against sending the clergyman out there? And because you advised the Foreign Secretary to tell the cabinet that it was impossible to get that nurse released? And we were right. If we left it to the Foreign Office, it would have been impossible. But you see what's going to happen now? The press is going to say that the church succeeds where the Foreign Office fails, and they're going to dig out all the old cuttings about ambassadors' Rolls-Royces and 4 million pound embassies and school fees at Eton paid for by the tax payer.

Jim Hacker: What does Britain get out of it all? Don't.

Sir Humphrey: Well, there you are. I know what we do. Well, we'll tell the press that it was the Prime Minister's initiative to send the Dean.

Jim Hacker: Oh, good idea. P. Enjoy taking the credit. But you don't think there's any danger of the PM's denying it, just because it isn't true?

Sir Humphrey: Is that n at all? And then for the Sundays, we leak the idea that the Foreign Office suggested it to him when we found all the diplomatic channels blocked. Perfect. That way, nobody gets the blame, and everybody gets the credit, except the person who really thought it up.

Jim Hacker: Oh, well, I don't mind. Um, I mean, I don't mind that he doesn't get the credit. Whoever he is. Excuse me, Prime Minister. Yes. Humphrey. Um, there's something I want to talk to you about. Something very secret. Would it be easier if I wasn't here? A few years ago, there was a security inquiry. Does the name Sir John Hellstead ring a bell?

Jim Hacker: Yes, of course. In fact, I had to conduct the inquiry myself, virtually.

Sir Humphrey: And you didn't find evidence of anything incriminating?

Jim Hacker: Of course not. In the first place, John Haled was one of us. We'd been friends for years. In the second place, the whole story was got up by the press. And in the third place, the whole object of internal security inquiries is to find no evidence, even if the security of the realm is at risk. A Prime Minister, if you really believe the security of the realm is at risk, you call in the Special Branch. Government security inquiries are only used for killing press stories. They're to enable the Prime Minister to stand up in the House and say, "We've held a full inquiry and there is no evidence to substantiate these charges."

Jim Hacker: What if you had found something suspicious?

Sir Humphrey: Well, Prime Minister, practically everything that happens in government is suspicious. I, the fact that you asked Bernard to leave us alone for a secret conversation might be construed as suspicious. Indeed. But in any case, the whole story was quite clearly a nonsense. Typical Fleet Street sensationalism. So there's no possibility that Sir John Halstead was passing secrets to Moscow?

Jim Hacker: Impossible. Out of the question. You'd stake a reputation on that without hesitation.

Sir Humphrey: I see. Well, I'm afraid I have to tell you that for a substantial part of his career, he was a Russian spy.

Jim Hacker: I don't believe it. Who says so?

Sir Humphrey: He does. He left all his papers to the government, including a detailed confession. MI5 say it's absolutely true. Checks out all along the line.

Jim Hacker: But, but, good Lord. I mean, he, he was one of us.

Sir Humphrey: Exactly. This certainly leaves a lot of questions to be asked.

Jim Hacker: Yes, and I'm asking you the first of them. Why didn't you ask him a lot of questions? Why did the inquiry exonerate him and so quickly?

Sir Humphrey: Well, I've already told you. Anyway, we were very busy. But besides, good Lord, you don't think I mean, surely nobody suspect. What else was I expected to do?

Jim Hacker: You could have held a proper inquiry. After all, you had evidence of his surprisingly long stay in Yugoslavia.

Sir Humphrey: Yes, shortly afterward, several MI5 agents behind the Iron Curtain were rounded up and never seen again. Yes. He spent a lot of time with one particular interpreter, and she turned out to be a Russian agent.

Jim Hacker: Yes, we knew that. Most Yugoslav interpreters are Russian agents. Those who aren't, with the CIA, that is.

Sir Humphrey: You never followed it up.

Jim Hacker: But I had better things to do with my time. 3 months later, she moved to England and settled in Cambridge, 150 yards from Sir John Halstead's own house. They were neighbors for the next 11 years. Crack.

It you can't check up on everything, you never know what you might find. I mean, if you've got that sort of suspicious mind, you ought to hold security inquiries. Yeah, no. John gave me his word. Halard, the word of a gentleman. Anyway, Hrey, I have a problem. Problem? You? Me? You don't think you couldn't think I? I don't speak a word of Russian. Well, you must admit it was either incompetence or collusion. Collusion? I give you my word, Prime Minister, it wasn't collusion. The word of a gentleman. Exactly. An Oxford gentleman. You've been briefed by M5. Indeed, Prime Minister. Bad business. Unfortunate. Disastrous, I'd say. Oh, not disastrous, surely. It will never come out. You mean things are any disastrous if people find out about them? Of course. Even if the Cabinet Secretary is a spy. But I'm happy to say that is not the case. How can you be so sure? MI5 have just come across this in the housed papers from his private diary. Another session with that prize goof, Applebe fooled him completely. He never asked any of the difficult questions. Didn't seem to have read the MI5 report. So much wool in his head, it's child's play to pull it over his eyes. That certain they exonerate Sir Humphrey. Arnold can't tell you how happy this makes me. Shall I? Uh, no, no, no. I'll keep this then. I take it there's really nothing for me to investigate after all. Well, apparently not. Not on security grounds. Good. Then in that case, I'll take up no more of your time. Hold on. There's still the question of incompetence. Well, of course, Prime Minister. We all make mistakes. Well, not on that scale. Do you think I should sack him? I hardly think so. Why not? Don't you think Super servant should ever be sacked? If they deserve it, of course they should. In principle, but not in practice. Why not? There would have to be an inquiry, and all inquiries into the incompetence of civil servants somehow seem to lead back to mistakes by ministers. Um, second thoughts. Leave it with me. Thank you, Sir. H's outside. Show him in. Burnard, show him in. Oh, goofy. I'm happy to tell you that you've been cleared of spying. How? Uh, something Sir John HED wrote. Oh, that's very gratifying, isn't it? I knew you believe. May one see the document? One certainly may. Better still, one can have it read to one. May the 28th. Another session with that prize goof, Applebe fooled him completely. I see. Well, thank you. Prime goes on Hy clears you even more. He never asked any of the difficult questions. Didn't seem to have read the MI5. That's quite clear. So much in his head, it's child's play to pull it over his heart. Is wonderful. You must be a very happy man. I always said Halstead was a hopeless judge of character. You mean we can't believe this? He was lying. Oh, no, no. Absolutely true. Um, but true that is, in the sense of, you see, he wasn't bright enough to understand subtle questioning techniques. The non-confrontational approach lulled him into a true sense of security. No. Get me the Chief Whip. Burn. Yes, Prime Minister. Get me the Chief Whip now. Now. Oh, hello, Chief Whip. Are you a number 12? Well, the Prime Minister wants to see you urgently. Now. Now. Thank you. Help. Yes, F. I'm very troubled by what I've just learned. What is that? Well, I feel as if I've been walking about with my eyes shut. I never realized that there was a a cabinet plot against the Prime Minister. Is there? How interesting. But you said there was. I said nothing. Bernard, nothing at all. You mean, uh, oh, well, do you know if there is a part? No, no, there isn't. Or no, you don't know? Yes. So Humphrey, what exactly has the employment secretary done? Nothing as yet, Bernard. And we must keep it that way. But, uh, isn't his plan rather a good one? For whom? The country. That is hardly the point. Why not, Vernard? When you move on from here, where do you plan to go? Well, I, uh, I, I don't know. Well, how would you like to be Deputy Secretary in charge of Defense procurement? Oh, gosh. In Sunderland or Beron Tweed or Lossy Mouth? Is that a place? Lossy Mouth? What do you think? It was a dog food. Well, it's the employment secretary has his way, you may get a three-year dart of Lossy Mouth yourself. You see, Corly. Yes. So how can it be good for the country? Well, it couldn't possibly. But, but why did you suggest sending for the Chief Whip to confirm a plot that doesn't exist? Because he's bound to hedge. Chief Whip cannot categorically state that there's no plot against the Prime Minister, just in case there is. He has to cover himself. Oh, good morning. Good morning. Uh, could you wait in the private office? Certainly. Bed. Now go in there and inform me of their conversation. Well, I'm not sure I can do that, sir. Country. It might be confidential. Bnard, the matter at issue is the defense of the realm and the stability of the government. But you only need to know things on a need-to-know basis. I need to know everything. How else can I judge whether or not I need to know it? So that means you need to know things even when you don't need to know? You need to know them, not because you need to know them, because you need to know whether or not you need to know. And if you don't need to know, you still need to know so that you know that there was no need to know. Yes. Good. That's very clear. Chief Whip, Prime Minister. Morning, Prime Minister. How are things going, Chief Whip? Quite well, really. Why? You mean you noticed nothing? Well, it's a difficult time. A bit of unrest on the back ventures. What, uh, did you have in mind precisely? A plot? A leadership challenge? Ah, yes. Well, actually, I have no real evidence of anything. But you have suspicions? Oh, I always have suspicions. How far has it got? Only a very, um, very, um, early stage. Early stage, as far as one can tell. You think you ought to have a word with him? Tell him I know what's going on. I don't want to lose him from the Cabinet. I just want him under control. Perhaps, uh, you should have a word with him yourself. No, no, no, no, no. Not at this stage. Who else is involved apart [Music] from Dudley, obviously? Dudley? Yes, of course. Apart from Dudley? Well, apart from Dudley, well, it's, um, it's a bit early to say. I, I mean, there may be nothing in it. Geoffrey, I'm not taking any risks. No, absolutely not. Now, I'll go and make a few more inquiries. Prime Minister, this proposal to send defense establishments up to the north is bound to be leaked to the Press, isn't it? No, bound to. Well, if it were leaked as the employment sector is planned, I agree it would confirm your suspicions. But I'm sure it will go out as a government plan. Are you? I'm not. Are the evening paper go? God, look. Whyne. There's your proof, Humphrey. Good heavens. I'm astonished. Sources in Whitehall report that this imaginative plan, an initiative by the Secretary of State for Employment, has been blocked by the Prime Minister. How dare dare here. I'm, I'm speechless. I'm speechless. I backed him all along the line. I fought for this sting little plan of his. I gave him his first CET post. I've treated him like a son. This is the than I. How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless cabinet colleague. It's envy, you know. Dudley is consumed with envy. It's one of the seven deadly sins. Yes. Thank. Now, Prime Minister, shall we start to draft your letter accepting his resignation? Well, it's not as simple as that. He'll deny that he leaked. So why am I sacking him? Besides, he's even more dangerous on the back benches than he is as a minister. A sacked minister doesn't even have to pretend to be loyal. So you mean you'll go ahead with his plan? Well, I can't not now. It'll look as though he's defeated me. I can't risk that. It's a good plan. So perhaps? No, no. I, Prime Minister, you're not being indecisive, are you? No, no, no. I just can't make up my mind. Well, perhaps I can help. How? Well, technically, of course, I shouldn't be showing you this. Why not? I'm Prime Minister, aren't I? Indeed you are. That's why I shouldn't be showing it to you. It's a Ministry of Defense draft internal paper. The Secretary of Defense hasn't seen it yet. But as you will see, it casts grave doubts on the employment secretary's plan. That's it. It points out that many of the valuable buildings he quotes can't in practice be sold. Some are listed, some have strict planning controls. The cost of the move would be prohibitive. It would create massive unemployment in the Home Counties and East Anglia. And in Part Three, there are pages and pages of objections on the grounds of military strategy. And all this is absolutely honest and accurate. It comes from the Ministry of Defense. Even so, it could be honest and accurate, you know. I think the public has a right to know this. It is a top-secret document. On the other hand, the service chiefs are notorious for their indiscretion. Notorious. It could well find its way into the hands of some irresponsible journalist. Quite. Or several irresponsible ones, of course. I could never be a party to anything like that. Certainly not, sir. Prime Minister, shall we defer further discussion of the employment secretary's plan to an unspecified future date? Yeah, let's drop it. Minister. Meanwhile, I'll go and attend to the plumbing. When's he going to leak it? I asked for a leak. Burner? Well, not in so many. No, you didn't. No, I occasionally have confidential press briefings, but I have never leaked. Oh, that's another of those irregular verbs, isn't it? I give confidential press briefings. You leak. He's been charged under Section 2A of the Official Secrets Act. S. Yes. Ben, have you got a moment? Yes, Ben. Uh, I've, uh, got a problem. Yes, Bernard. You know. Yes, Bernard. How? Because you've just told me. Bernard, I mean, do you know what my problem is? Your problem is, Bernard, that you don't ever come to the point. Yes. Sorry. Well, the Prime Minister just had lunch with Derek Burnham, the editor of. Yes, I know he is. Bennett. Yes. And the Prime Minister told him that the minutes of the Cabinet Committee confirm that he didn't try to suppress chapter 8 of the book, that he would publish them if necessary to prove that he didn't. So what is your problem? Well, uh, the minutes aren't written yet. I see. So, uh, what should I do? Write them. Dear Burnham. Yes. Well, the problem is the Prime Minister did try to suppress the chapter, didn't he? I don't know. Did he? But didn't he? Don't you remember? What I remember is irrelevant, Bernard. If the minutes don't say that he did, then he didn't. So you want me to falsify the minutes? I'd want nothing of the sort. It's up to you, Burnard. What do you want? I want to have a clear conscience. A clear conscience? Yes. When did you acquire this taste for luxuries? Consciences are for politicians, Bernard. We are humble functionaries whose duty it is to implement the commands of our democratically elected representatives. How could we possibly be doing anything wrong if it has been commanded by those who represent the people? Well, I can't accept that, Sir Humphrey. No man is an island. I agree, Bernard. No man is an island entire of itself, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls. It tolls for thee, Bernard. So what do you suggest? Sir Bernard, the minutes do not record everything that was said at a meeting, do they? Well, no, of course not. And people change their minds during a meeting, don't they? Well, yes. So the actual meeting is a massive ingredients for you to choose from. Oh, like cooking? Like, no, not, not like cooking. Better not to use that word in connection with books on the. You choose from a jumble of ill-digested ideas, a version which represents the Prime Minister's views as he would on reflection have liked them to emerge. But if it's not a true record? The purpose of minutes is not to record events. It is to protect people. You do not take notes if the Prime Minister said something he did not mean to say, particularly if it contradicts something he has said publicly. You try to improve on what has been said. Put it in a better order. You are tactful. But how do I justify that? You are his servant. Oh, yes. A minute is a note for the records and a statement of action, if any, that was agreed upon. Now, what happened at the meeting in question? Well, the book was discussed, and the Solicitor General advised there were no legal grounds for suppressing it. And did the Prime Minister accept what the Solicitor General had said? Well, he accepted the fact there were no legal grounds for suppression. But he accepted the fact that there were no legal grounds for suppression. You see him. Oh, is that a lie? No. Can you write it in the minutes? Yes. How is your conscience? Much better, thank you, sir. Yes, Bnard, have you got a moment? Yes, Bnard. Uh, I've got a problem. Good. Off better? Yes. Well, it's just that, uh, well, I, I've just been interviewed by the Press. You, you gave it inter? You? Oh, yes, I'm afraid so. Well, that's not your job. Well, I know. I, I couldn't help it. I, I just, uh, it just happened. They just trapped me into speaking to them. What did you say? Nothing, really. Well, what's your problem? Well, they were asking me about you. What about me? About you and the Official Secrets Act and whether you were bound by it. Of course I'm bound by it. Yes, of course you are. But it, uh, it might not come out like that. What do you mean? Well, uh, thinking back on what I said and what they said and what I said you said, or what they may say I said you said, or what they may have thought I said, I thought you thought, well, they may say I said I thought you said you thought. Go on, Bernard. Well, I think I said you said you thought you were above the law. You said? Well, not intentionally. That's just, just the way it came out. I'm terribly sorry. They were just asking me all these questions. But just because people ask you questions, what makes you think you have to answer them? I don't know. You've never answered my questions. Just because I, I know after a lifetime in the Civil Service, an entire career devoted to avoiding questions, you suddenly decide to answer them today, and to the Press? You must have flipped your lid. Bur, please don't shout at me, Prime Minister. I, I assure you, I won't answer any more questions ever again. Get Humphrey and Bill in here, will you? Send Humphrey and, please, and, and Bill Pritchard. And if this question should ever arise again, Bernard, this is how you deal with questions. If you have nothing to say, say nothing. Better still, have something to say and say it. No matter what they ask, pay no attention to the question. Just make your own statement. Then if they ask the question again, what you say is, that's not the question. Or, I think the real question is. And then you make another statement of your own. Well, how's that leak inquiry coming up? Well, Prime Minister, the wheels will be turning very soon. Very soon. I asked you a week ago. What's the matter with you two? I'm sorry, Prime Minister. I had no idea you were serious. Leak inquiries are not usually pursued. Well, I want this one pursued rigorously and immediately. Rigorously and immediately. Immediately. Immediately. Oh, but you, you mean you really wanted it pursued? What's the lip move, Hrey? I want it pursued now. Very well, Prime Minister. If you're serious, I will arrange a genuine arms-length inquiry. If that's what you really want. I'll get Inspector Plot of the Special Branch. Now, we have to do something to improve our relations with the Press, which have deteriorated considerably today. My esteemed private secretary saw fit to tell them that I felt myself to be above the law when it came to Official Secrets. Yes, you may well hang your head, Bernard. Yes. I've spoken to the Home Office. They say there's no possible grounds to pass an act of Parliament to allow this particular dog into Britain. I know an enabling act can enable anything, but the Prime Minister feels it would merely enable him to lose the next election. Have you thought about turning the whole of Buckingham Palace into a quarantine zone for dogs? Are you serious? Just a thought. What about the corgis? Oh, H, uh, gram, uh, phone the Palace now and check that Her Majesty has not been told officially that this gift has been proposed, then she can't be implicated in refusing it. Yes, uh, yes. We will want simultaneous translators. No, not when the PM meets the leaders of the English-speaking nations. Yes, the English-speaking nations can be said to include the United States. Certain generosity of spirit. Sorry, I've got to go. Yes, uh, yes. There about 10 Prime Ministers flying in today. Special Branch are going crazy. So is the band of the Royal Marines, who've got to play all the national anthems. Oh, I see. Thanks. Argentina is not coming. That's a bit of luck. Because of the Fon? Oh, no, because their anthem goes on for about six minutes. I know you're worried about this dog. I'm worried about it too. Look, talk to our ambassador in Paris. See if he can think of a way to knobble it. Well, you know, slip at something. See if the Bulgarians have got his spare umbrella, too. But there is one possibility. Make Buckingham Palace notionally an extension of the French Embassy. Then the dog would still be on foreign territory. Peter, the PM is fighting for the sovereignty of the Channel Tunnel. How do you think he feels about the sovereignty of Buck House? Just how do you think the Sovereign feels about the sovereignty of Buck House? Yes, uh, no. We can't have alphabetical seating in the Abbey. You'd have Iraq and Iran next to each other, plus Israel and Jordan, all sitting in the same pew. Could be in danger of starting World War I. I know Ireland begins with an 'I', but no, Island doesn't make it any better. Island doesn't make anything any better. By the way, make sure everyone knows if the Papal Envoy says "we desire to wash our hands," it means he wants to go and have a pee. That's a royal wee, covered by a royal flush. Oh, and watch out for the South Africans. Problems with human rights? No, they're trying to unload more grapefruit. Bernard, the Palace wants to know if there's a problem about the red carpets, and Her Majesty is worried that the President of the Ivory Coast wishes to award her with the Order of the Elephant. Gram, we can't have another animal, especially an elephant. The whole of Whitehall, the Home Office, Foreign Office, Cabinet Office, the DHSS, we've all been tied up with one puppy for nearly a week. Government's been paralyzed. No elephants. The correct mode of address to a Cistercian Archbishop is not "Your Ecstasy," it's "Your Beatitude." For God's sake. Yes, what is it? Oh, sorry, Prime Minister. I'm coming straight away. What on earth is that, Bnard? Oh, it's the Channel Tunnel file, Prime Minister. No, no, the other one. That's the puppy file. Where have we got to with that? Oh, well, it weighed in at 3 and a half this morning. Puppy? No, the file. Now, but what's happened? Well, at the moment, we've told the French that airport security will reluctantly have to impound the puppy and keep it in quarantine at he. What do they say? Well, they haven't replied yet. We did point out it was on the route from Buckingham Palace to Windsor. The Queen will be able to visit on on the way. Can you visit quarantine dogs? Well, if she can't, she can sort of wave to it as she drives down the. What do you think they're going to do? Well, I presume they'll threaten to publish the story if we don't give in on the Channel Tunnel. Prive me, I have urgent news. I have. It's good news. Well, yes and no. The police have just found a bomb in the grounds of the French Embassy. What? Who put it there? Well, we don't know yet. Lots of people could have a motive. Yeah, me for star. Prime Minister, you need to see this security file immediately. Not now, Bnard. I'm about to talk to the French President. Yes, but you should see this file first. That bomb in the French Embassy, Prime Minister. It was planted there by the French police. You're not serious. Why? To see if they could catch us out. To prove our security inefficient. Smuggling explosives into the UK illegally. That's correct. Have you got proof of this? We found a matching detonator in their hotel. They've confessed. This Humphrey, give me 2 minutes of Lear with the President, and then when I give you a signal, bring that file in. Oh, Prime Minister, what will the signal be? Um, I'm so sorry, M. President. I'm sure he's just coming. The tunnel. The tunnel. Indeed. But first of all, can we clear up this silly misunderstanding about the little puppy, which I am presenting as a return gift to Her Majesty tomorrow? There's no misunder. I'm very sorry, but I can't ask the Queen to break the law. I do not want the Queen to break the law. I merely ask the Prime Minister to bend it. I'm deeply sorry if I possibly could. Well, if the French people learn of this rejection, a national slap in the face. The tunnel. The tunnel. But you make it very difficult for me. The French people will not accept a second slap in the face, and you are rejecting our very reasonable proposal for French sovereignty. As do setting that to one side, there is the question of which shall be long PR, the first language. I have just seen this order of service for tomorrow. It is deeply embarrassing. This him on Jordan's Bank, the Baptist cry. What? Don't you know the Jordan banquet bust yesterday? Char. If we have half the signs in French first and half the signs in English, that's fair. It's not logical. Does logic matter? Does law matter? Oh, yes. Britain is the only country in Europe still free of RAB. I'm so sorry. Um, the Bernard will handle this for you. That Bernard. Excuse me, M. President. Will you please forgive me? Prime Minister, I think you ought to see this urgently. No, I don't believe it. Mr. President, I should have to ask you to explain this. I need hard to say how grave this matter is. I, Minister, I must ask you to believe that I had no knowledge of this. An attempt by a guest to deceive Her Majesty's Government, illegally smuggling explosives into the UK. But you must know that the French government never knows what French security are doing. You mean you're not able to take responsibility for them? No, that's not what I mean. But if this report is true, I must ask you to accept my profound regrets. It's true enough, I'm afraid. Thank you. You see, it makes it so difficult for the Prime Minister over the Channel Tunnel. When news of this bomb is published, the British people will want to make very few concessions. They won't know whether it's safe to go through. It could be full of official French bombs. Of course, in the interests of Anglo-French friendship, we could perhaps overlook the crimes of your security man. I suppose, uh, sovereignty halfway across. I'll just write that down. If I mean, half the signs in English first, and the starting ceremony in two months in Doha. Morning, Prime Minister. Is it the newspapers? Yes, they all say that since my Administration came into office, nothing has changed. You must be very proud. That's not meant as a compliment, Bernard. I read all 10 of this morning's London newspapers. There's not a good word about me in nine of them. But the tenth is better. Tenth is worse. Doesn't mention me at all. What have they got against you this morning? Well, basically, they all say the same thing: that I'm a windbag. Good heavens. Yeah. Scrub, isn't it? They say that my Administration is all rhetoric, that I talk and talk, that nothing ever gets done. Simply isn't true. There are many reforms in the pipeline, great new change of direction, great new schemes of development, a whole new philosophy of government, profound change in the whole social fabric and geopolitical climate of this country. So what is actually happening? Nothing yet, obviously. Oh, that will be S. Hum. Any a minute. Sor Humphrey. I suppose the origin of this criticism is this rumor about another big scandal in the city. How did you guess that? Oh, Humphrey. I've decided to respond to all this criticism about a scandal in the city. The Press is demanding action. What are you proposing to do? I shall appoint someone. And when did you take this momentous decision? Today. When I read the papers. But when did you first think of it? Today. When I read the papers. And for how long may I ask, did you weigh the pros and cons of this decision? Not long. I decided to be decisive. Prime Minister, if I may say, I think you worry too much about what the papers said. Only a civil servant could have made that remark, Bernard. I have to worry about them, particularly with the Party Conference coming up. These rumors of a scandal just won't go away, you know. Well, let's not worry about it until it becomes something more than a rumor. I'd just like to show you the Cabinet agenda. No, not just now. For this is rather more important. With respect, Prime Minister, it is not the only way to understand the Press is to remember that they pander to their readers' prejudices. Don't tell me about the Press. I know exactly who reads the papers. The Daily Mirror is read by people who think they run the country. The Guardian is read by people who think they ought to run the country. The Times is read by the people who actually do run the country. Daily Mail is read by the wives of the people who run the country. The Financial Times is read by people who own the country. The Morning Star is read by people who think the country ought to be run by another country. Daily Telegraph is read by people who think it is. I'm Minister, what about the people who read The Sun? The Sun readers don't care who runs the country, as long as she's got big tits. Yes, Mr. Humre, the Prime Minister wonders if you could join him in 5 minutes. Yes, certainly. Berard. Bernard? Yes. Any news yet about the governorship of the Bank of England? Well, the Prime Minister is planning to appoint Alexander Jameson, Mr. Clean. So that's one bit of good news. It's appalling news. Oh, are you going to try and change the Prime Minister's mind? No, I'm going to change the Prime Minister's mind. Well, he seems very keen on him. I know. So that'll be my starting point. When you wish to suggest that somebody is perhaps not the ideal choice, you rubbish them. The first stage is to express absolute support. Why? Because you don't want to go on record as saying somebody's no good. You must be seen to be their friend. After all, it is necessary to get behind someone before you can stab them in the back. But Alexander Jameson is good. He's extremely honest and efficient. Excellent. So that's the second stage. You list all his praiseworthy qualities, especially those that make him unsuitable for the job. And then you praise them to the point where they become a vice. That's the third stage. Or better still, you oversimplify his views by labeling them as you just did. You mean Mr. Clean? Yes. But I think we can do better than that. Do sit down, B. Now, isn't he a churchgoer? Oh, yes. I believe he was once a lay preacher, a long time ago. Splendid news. We can certainly use that against him. What a charming man. Hasn't an enemy in the world. But is he really up to dealing with some of those rogues in the city? Well, that won't was Jameson's pretty tough, then. We'll say he's too tough. That's the fourth stage. You name all his bad points by defending and excusing them. You know, probably doesn't matter that he was a conscientious objector. I'm sure that nobody's really questioned his patriotism. Or, I think the criticisms of him for bankrupting his last company weren't entirely fair. Well, that would certainly do it. Well, if it doesn't, you can always hint at a hidden scandal. If he's not married, hint at homosexuality. He is years married. Adultery with a lady who is beyond reproach, one of the Royals, for instance, or a television news reader. Well, what if he's obviously happily married? Well, then say he's extremely puritanical, or he drinks, or he's having psychiatric treatment. Really, brother, the possibilities are endless. Listen and learn. Yeah. So, help here. Oh, my dear lady. H. Very nice to meet you. Can come in now, won't you? Come and sit down. Now, right. Um, would you get Miss Morous a cup of tea? Or is it Mrs. Morous? Is my marital status really your concern? Uh, no, no, no, no. It's just, you know, I was just really worried about whether the, uh, would you get, you know, her couple of. Now, what should I call you? M. Morous. You can call me Agnes. Should I call you? Um, you can call me Sir Humphrey. My, I'm not your dear lady. Don't patronize me, and cut out the sexist crap, okay? Okay. Agnes. Now, the reason I wanted us to have this little meeting was because I wanted us to try and understand one another, basically. I'm sure we're in agreement, really. Yeah. Well, obviously, you have your own views about how Britain should be run, but I'm sure we agree on a fundamental basis of order and authority. That's half true. Half true. You agree? I don't. But it's obvious. It's obvious if you've got it made under the present system, then you want to use authority to preserve your privileges. But what about the homeless? What about the unemployed? What about the poor people? Oh, yeah, I know all about them, really. What do you know? Well, I've read all the published papers, I've seen all the statistics, I've read all the official reports. Believe me, de Agnes, did I? I, I do know all about them. Fine. What is half a pound of margarine cost? What does half a pound of margarine cost? Oh, how should I know? 20p. 20p? Well, 2.40. I don't know. Why? Why should you? What time do social security offices open? Uh, what they have deal with? I, how long can you run a one-bar fire with 50p? In the meeting, I'm not entirely sure I follow. Of course you don't. If you knew that sort of thing, you wouldn't agree about using authority to support the sister. Look, I do understand. I do sympathize. It'd be marvelous with no poverty, but we just don't have the resources to achieve that. Who hasn't? The nation. Really. Does this desk belong to the nation? This China pand? These portraits? Or are they your own? Of course not. The government property. Oh, good. They should fetch about, what, £80,000? That should keep 20 odd one-parent families for a year. Then what about your salary? That has nothing to do with it. Good. Then we'll have that too. Give you £100 a week. That's £70,000 a year for the needy. Look, my salary is merely part of a complex economic structure. Good. We'll simplify it. After all, you don't want to make a profit out of serving your country, do you? Over here. I, um, oh, very nice. Thank you so much. Uh, shall I be mother? Tell me, um, Agnes, this policy of yours of, um, only allowing free-range eggs to be sold in your barrow, how does this help? Did animals have rights too, you know? A battery chicken's life isn't worth living. Would you want to spend your life packed in with 600 other desperate, squawking, smelly creatures, unable to breathe fresh air, unable to move, unable to stretch, unable to think? Certainly not. That's why I never stood for Parliament, Bernard. I want to have a word with you about Professor Marriott's article. Yes, I think it's about time we reform local government. Do you, Bernard? Yes, at least I think I did. Uh, that is, I'm not wholly against it, although there are many, uh, convincing, uh, some might say conclusive arguments against it. Some might indeed, Bernard. Yes. Why? Because, Bernard, once you create genuinely democratic local communities, it won't stop there, won't it? Well, of course, it won't. You see, once they get established, they'll insist on more power, and the politicians will be too frightened to withhold them. So you'll get regional government. Would that matter? But it's going to sit down. Well, what happens at the moment if there is some vacant land in, say, Nottingham, and there are rival proposals for its use, you know, a hospital, a college, or an airport? Well, we set up an interdepartmental committee. Department of Health, Department of Education, Department of Transport, Treasury, Environment. Ask for papers, hold meetings, propose, discuss, revise, report back, redraft. Normal thing. Precisely. Months of fruitful work leading to a mature and responsible conclusion. But if you have regional government, they decide it all in Nottingham, probably in a couple of meetings. Complete amate. It is their city. And what happens to us? Much less work. Yes, much less work. So little that ministers might almost be able to do it on their own. So we'd have much less power. Well, I don't know whether I really want power, Bernard. If the right people don't have power, do you know what happens? The wrong people get it. Politicians, counselors, ordinary voters. But aren't they supposed to in a democracy? This is a British democracy, though. How do you mean? British democracy recognizes that you need a system to protect the important things of life and keep them out of the hands of the barbarians. Things like the opera, Radio 3, the countryside, the law, the universities. Both of them. And we are that system. Gosh. We run a civilized, aristocratic government machine, tempered by occasional general elections since 1832. We have been gradually excluding the voter from government. Now we've got them to a point where they just vote once every 5 years for which bunch of buffoons will try to interfere with our policies. And you are happy to see all that thrown away? Well, uh, no, no, no. I, I didn't mean. Ber, do you want the Lake District turned into a gigantic caravan site? The Royal Opera House into a bingo hall? The National Theatre into a carpet sale warehouse? Well, it looks like one, actually. We gave the architect a knighthood so that nobody would ever say that. Do you want Radio 3 to broadcast pop music 24 hours a day? And how would you feel if they took all the culture programs off television? I don't know. I never watched them. Well, neither do I, but it's vital to know that they're there. But you always said local government was corrupt and incompetent. Well, so it is, Bernard. So corrupt and incompetent that even ministers recognize it. So what about next year's Arts Council Grant? Are they going to get the extra £30 million? Oh, my dear Simon, I couldn't disclose the figure in advance, least of all to managing director of the National Theatre. Some of these. Excuse me. Only six. You're not Ser? I'm afraid that's the new DOT. Six breadsticks is the absolute maximum that gross breadsticks or neck net breadsticks? Net breadsticks. So what are we going to get to the National? Only one. That's disastrous. How can they expect us to manage on and a half million? I don't know where you got that figure from. You've got to help me. What can I do? You mean if the ground figure, which of course we do not yet know, were to be not merely less than you told the Press was the absolute minimum to stave off disaster, but lower even than the real minimum required to stave off disaster? Yes. Well, I'm afraid I can't help you, even though I'm on the board. Let me be quite clear about this, Simon. I am here to represent the Prime Minister's interests. Now, there are certain things which would gravely upset him. I must urge you, on his behalf, not to contemplate them. Good. What are they? Well, you'll be making the speech introducing him at the, um, Awards Dinner. It would be a courtesy to send a draft to Number 10 in advance for approval. Well, let's say for information. Now, the Prime Minister is extremely anxious that the speech should not refer to the modesty of the grant increase. There are certain words that he would like you to avoid: "misin," "barbarism," "skinflint," "killjoy." He would also like you to avoid all reference to how much more other countries spend on the Arts. What are the figures? You are to make sure you don't mention them by mistake. Certainly won't mention them by mistake. And thirdly, and most important of all, he wants absolutely no comparison between the extra money your theatre needs and certain sums that the government spent last year on certain projects such as, well, let's say the figure were to be £4 million, purely as an example, of course. Now, the Prime Minister earnestly hopes that your speech will not refer to the fact that the government spent £5 million on radar equipment for a fighter plane that had already been scrapped, or that the Department of Energy had been able to afford to stockpile a thousand years' supply of filing tabs, or that another department had stocked up with a million tins of VI, etc., etc., etc. Thank you very much. Thank you so much. That was delicious. Yes. He never even goes to the theatre, does he? Well, he can't really. He's fragrant of giving the cartoonist and gossip columnist too much ammunition, you see. He couldn't go to a month in the country for fear of starting rumors about a general election, and he couldn't go to a marvelous production of The Rivals because there had been so many cabinet ministers after his job, and he couldn't go to The School for Scandal, well, not after the Education Secretary had been found in bed with that married primary school headmistress. Prime Minister, do forgive me, gentlemen. You remember Simon Monk? Yes. This is very bad news about the grant. Prime Minister, surely not. It's gone up. Nothing like enough. Well, enough for it to be unnecessary for you to, I'm afraid not. Oh, oh, because I was hoping to do something really significant next year. You remember your saying that you had to spend nearly half your grant on the upkeep of the buildings? Yes. Well, I have a plan that should relieve you of that. Really? That would be marvelous. Yeah. Wouldn't it? And it'd make the National Theatre really National too. What do you mean? I'm thinking of selling the National Theatre. Sing. I knew you'd be pleased. That way, we can save £3 million on upkeep. Prime Minister, this is impossible. No, it's quite easy, actually. We've had a terrific offer for the site. But the National Theatre must have a base, and so it will. You could have inexpensive offices in Brixton or Tox Littleb. What about the, what about the theatres? What about the workshops? No, you could hire them like any other company. Put on your productions in the West End or the Old Vic or the provincial theatres. Become strolling players again instead of of civil servants. Be disastrous. Oh, surely not. Didn't you say that the theatre was about plays and actors, not bricks and mortar? Oh, yes, yes, but that was, uh, that was. Look, the National Theatre must have a home, and so it will. Lots of homes. All the subsidized theatres would be called National Theatres. That'd be the National Theatre at Glasgow, the National Theatre at Sheffield, the National Theatre at Bristol, and so on. And that £3 million could help them all. You'd just be the London branch of the National Theatre. I should think that would be very popular with the whole profession. Barbarism. What? Spending money on actors instead of building? Yes. Well, no, no. Anyway, it's just one of my options. I may decide against it, or I may not. I could outline it in my speech if necessary. It all depends on. Oh, changing the subject. Have you decided what you're going to say on your speech yet? Yes. Oh, uh, well, uh, not finally, because I wondered if those jokes about government waste were really very funny. Of course, it's your decision. I'm sure you understand me. Mr. Prime Minister, my lords, ladies and gentlemen. PR silence for Simon Monk, square, the managing director of the National [Music] Theatre. Mr. Prime Minister, my lords, ladies and gentlemen. You will have read this morning of the grant for the Arts Council and the National Theatre. I know many of us are disappointed by the amount. Of course, we would have all liked it to have been larger. But apparently, this is a time of national stringency, and we must think in terms of national needs. There are many calls on the public purse: education, inner cities, health, kidney machines. I think we should be glad that any increase at all has been possible and grateful to our guest of honor, whose whose personal intervention made even this small breadstick possible increase. Ladies and gentlemen, to our guest of honor, the Patron of the Arts, the Prime Minister. My lords, ladies and gentlemen. The toast is. Excellent speech, don't you think, H? The Patron of the Arts, the Prime Minister. Yes. Prime Minister, he can see you now, sir. Humy, he's, he's very worried that he seems responsible for something he can't change. Yes, I'm sure. Responsibility without power, the prerogative of the unit throughout the ages. Morning, Prime Minister. Morning, H. What was that you were saying? Oh, nothing. Prime Minister, I understand that you're worried about the Local Education Authority. Hy. I'm worried about the Department of Education and Science. Indeed. In my opinion, the DEES does a splendid job. Be that as it may, of course, happened to education in this country. This is a question from a religious studies paper. Which do you prefer: atom bombs or charity? Mass is becoming politicized. If it costs £5 billion a year to maintain Britain's nuclear defenses and £75 a year to feed a starving African child, how many African children could be saved from starvation if the Ministry of Defense abandoned nuclear weapons? That's easy. None. They'd spend it all on conventional weapons in any case. It's just a sum. £5 billion divided by £75. But the children aren't learning how to do the sums. No, indeed. But the local education authorities might argue that they don't need to. They all have pocket calculators. But they all need to know how it's done. Look, we were all taught basic arithmetic, weren't we? Were we? What's 3,947 divided by 73? I, oh, I'd need a pencil and paper to do that. No, never mind. Then I could do it when I left school. But now you use a calculator. That's not the point. I mean, look at Latin. Hardly anybody knows that nowadays. Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur. Times change, and we change with the times. Oh, precisely. See T. Philosophers. Man. What that if you kept your mouth shut, we might have thought you were clever. Oh, not you, Prime Minister. No, that's the translation. No one would ever have thought Sir Humphrey was saying that about you. Go away, Bernard, please. I can't believe it, Humphrey. You had a conventional, strict academic upbringing. Are you denying the value of it? Well, what's the use of it? I can't even call upon it in conversation with the Prime Minister of Great Britain. Education in this country is a disaster. We're supposed to be preparing children for a working life. Three-quarters of the time they're bored stiff. Well, I should have thought that being bored stiff at three-quarters of the time was an excellent preparation for working life. The school-leaving age was raised to 16 so they could learn more. And they're learning less. We didn't raise it to enable them to learn more. We raised it to keep teenagers off the job market and hold down the unemployment figures. Are you saying there's nothing wrong with education in this country? No, of course not, Prime Minister. It's a joke. It's always been a joke, and as long as you leave it in the hands of the local counselors, it will remain a joke. I mean, half of them are your enemies anyway, and the other half are the sort of friends make you prefer your enemies. What are you saying? I'm saying that education will never get any better as long as it's subject to all that tomfoolery in the town halls. I mean, just imagine what would happen if you put defense in the hands of the local authorities. Defense? Yes, give the local councils £100 million each and ask them to defend themselves. We wouldn't have to worry about the Russians. We'd have a civil war in 3 weeks. You're just being silly. Am I, Prime Minister? Well, that's what happened to education, and why? Because nobody thinks that education is serious, the way defense is serious. You mean that's why civil defense is left in the hands of local authorities? Of course, because everybody knows it's a joke. You just don't leave important matters in the hands of those clowns.

And as you've left education to them, one must assume that until now you have attached little importance to it. I think it's extremely important. It could lose me in the next election. Ah, in my naivety, I thought you were concerned about the future of our children. You, for me, come free. Come in, sit down. I just want to bounce an idea off you.

Mhm. I realized how to reform the educational system. Excellent, Prime Minister. I'm going to let parents take their children away from school and move them to any school they want. Well, you mean after application, scrutiny, tribunal hearing, and appeals procedures? No, just move them whenever they want to. I'm sorry, I don't quite follow. This government is going to let parents decide which, which schools to send their children to. Prime Minister, you can't be serious. But it's preposterous. Why? Well, you can't expect parents to make these choices. I mean, how on earth would parents know which schools are best? Which school did you go to? H. Winchester. It's good. Oh, excellent, of course. Who chose it? My parents, naturally. Now, that's different. Bri- Minister, my parents were discerning people. You can't expect ordinary people to know where to send their children. Why not? Well, how could they tell? Well, they could tell if their kids could read, write, and do sums. They could tell if their neighbors were happy with the school, and they could tell if the exam results were good. Exam results aren't everything, Prime Minister. That's true. And those parents who don't want an academic education for their children can choose progressive schools. But parents have no qualifications to make these choices. I mean, teachers are the professionals. Parents are the worst people to bring up children. They have no qualifications, no training. You don't expect untrained teachers to teach. The same should apply to parents. You mean before people have children, they should be trained? No, that's no problem. They've all been trained to have kids. Sex education classes have been standard for some years now. See? Well, perhaps we could do better. Before people are allowed to have children, we should make them sit exams, written and practical, or perhaps both. And then they could be issued with breeding licenses. Oh, very drill, Prime Minister. No, but I'm being serious. It's looking after children that parents are not qualified for. That's why they have no idea which schools to choose. It couldn't work. Then how does the Health Service work? People choose their family doctor without having medical qualifications. Ah, yes. Well, that's different. How? Well, doctors are p-s aren't parents, dear lady. Oh, really? What makes you think that? Humpy, not as such. In any case, as a matter of fact, I think letting people choose doctors is a very bad idea. Very messy. Much tighter to allocate people to GPs. Much fairer. Then we can even out the numbers, and everyone has an equal chance of getting the bad doctors. See? In any case, we're not talking about health, we're talking about education. And with respect, Prime Minister, I think that the D-s will react with some caution to your rather novel proposal. You mean they'll block it? I mean, they will give it the most serious and urgent consideration and insist on a thorough and rigorous examination of all the proposals, allied to a detailed feasibility study and budget analysis, before producing a consultative document for consideration by all interested bodies and seeking comments and recommendations to be included in a brief for a series of working parties who will produce individual studies which will provide the background for a more wide-ranging document considering whether or not the proposal should be taken forward to the next stage. You mean they'll block it? Y-oh.

Come in, come in. H. Prime Minister, I want to talk to you about Prime Minister's Question. Thank you. I accept your congratulations. Wasn't I? Well, I didn't, you think so? Well, I wasn't there, but oh, wasn't I brilliant? Bettered? Uh, well, I, I believe your replies this afternoon will not be quickly forgotten. Let me tell you what happened. H. The first question was about that Home Office [ __ ] up over the shortage of prison officers. My reply was masterly. I said, "I refer the honorable member to the speech I made in this House on October the 28th." Did he remember what you said? Well, no, of course not. Neither did I, come to that. Still shut him up. The next one was about unemployment and whether the Department of Employment fiddle the figures. You mean periodically restructure the base from which the statistics have been derived without drawing public attention to the fact? Exactly. Fiddle the figures? Well, of course they do. I know they do. But I said, "I'd found no significant evidence of it." That's because you haven't been looking, and because we haven't shown you. Him. I know. Well done, Humphrey. Then we went straight onto a googly about the Department of Energy plans for disposing of nuclear waste. The question was trying to get me to admit that the Cabinet was divided. Well, it is. Well, I know that. So I said, "My Cabinet took a unanimous decision." That's only because you threatened to dismiss anyone who wouldn't agree. I certainly made them agree unanimously. By this time, my back benches were cheering my every word. Oh, then we had a question about why, since we'd spent so much money on it, our new anti-missile missile was scrapped as obsolete the day before the first one came off of the production line. And how did you wriggle out of that one? Wriggled out? That was my masterstroke. My reply, Humphrey, was sheer genius. I simply said, "Our policy had not been as effective as we hoped. Clearly, we had got it wrong." You admitted that? Yeah. Brilliant. It took the wind right out of his [Music] sails. Honesty always gives you the advantage of surprise in the House of Commons. There was actually a supplementary. The Prime Minister was asked when he would request the resignation from the responsible minister. Too easy. I said, "I'd ask for his resignation when he makes a mistake that could have been seen at the time and not with the benefit of hindsight." They were on their feet cheering, stamping, waving their order papers. I gather that there was a question about the bagging of an MP's telephone. Oh, yes. I got a terrific laugh with that. I, I know. Bernard told me. No, I said, "Much as I respect..." Yes, I know. Bernard told me. Oh, well, anyway, that was just stupid. I mean, why should we bag Hugh Halifax's telephone? I mean, one of my own administration. Don't know why they got such a daft idea. Sheer paranoia. Yes. The only thing is, I mean, why should we listen into MPs' boring, stupid, ignorant windbags? I do my best not to listen to them. He's only a PPS. I have enough trouble finding out what's going on at the Ministry of Defense. What could he know? So I gather you denied that Mr. Halifax's phone had been bugged? Well, obviously. It was the one question today to which I could give a clear, simple, straightforward, honest answer. Yes. Unfortunately, although the answer was indeed clear, simple, and straightforward, there is some difficulty in justifiably assigning to it the fourth of the epithets you applied to the statement, in as much as the precise correlation between the information you communicated and the facts, in so far as they can be determined and demonstrated, is such as to cause epistemological problems of sufficient magnitude as to lay upon the logical and semantic resources of the English language for a heavier burden than they can reasonably be expected to bear. Epistemological? What are you talking about? You told a lie. Lie? A lie? What do you mean, a lie? I mean, you lied. Yes. I know this is a difficult concept to get across to a politician. Um, you, a, yes, you did not tell the truth. You mean we are bugging here? H. O. F. A. telephone? We were. We were. When did we stop? Um, 17 minutes ago. But even separating out the component causes, let alone allocating responsibility for them, is a task of such analytical delicacy as not to be susceptible of compression within the narrow confines of a popular radio program. Hopey, applebe. Thank you very much. If that was a popular program, what would an unpopular program be like? Thank you very much, Sir Humphrey. Absolutely. Spend my pleasure. Was I all right? Well, couldn't you have said a bit more, especially about unemployment? That? Well, uh, the truth. Why do you laugh? Oh, my dear Ludo, nobody tells the truth about unemployment. Oh, why not? Well, because everybody knows you could half it in a few weeks. But how? Cut off all social security to any claimant who refuses two job offers. There's genuine unemployment in the North, but the South of England is a wash with layabouts, many of them graduates, living off the dole and housing benefit, plus quite a lot of cash they pick up without telling anybody. You mean moonlighting? Well, sunlighting, really. Most employers will tell you they're short-staffed, but after the unemployed a street-sweeping job or a dishwashing job, they'd be off the register before you could say parasite. Frankly, this country can have as much unemployment as it's prepared to pay for in social security, and no politicians have got the guts to do anything about it. Oh, I do wish you'd said that. I'm sure you do. Oh, come, come, come. What's this? For the BBC have just sent me this tape. Apparently, it's past my interview. They say it's particularly interesting, your interview. You sound surprised that I should have said something interesting. Bernard? Oh, uh, no, no, Sir H. It's just that I thought you intended to say nothing, as always. I mean, switch it on, Bernard. You may learn something. My dear Ludo, nobody tells the truth about unemployment. Oh, why not? Because everyone knows you could half it in you what security to all claimants who refuse two job offers, and no politicians have got the guts to do anything about it. So Humphrey, that wasn't you, was it? Yes, Bard. But how could you say such things? Is there any more? Yes, Bernard. As damaging as what we've just heard? More damaging, I believe. I referred to parasites. How could you be so indiscreet? The interview was over. We were just chatting harmlessly. It was off the record. It was on the tape. My God, I've just realized. Blackmail. Blackmail. Read that. Here is a copy of your off-the-record part of the radio interview. We, we found it very interesting. We will contact you shortly. What do they want of me, Bernard? The BBC license fee up 50%? Maybe it's a private blackmail by the producer. Well, maybe. Doesn't he know I'm a poor man? Maybe he hasn't read. You live in abject poverty on £81,000 a year. Ben. What am I going to do? Well, keep your mouth shut in future. And so must you, Ber. I don't want you to breathe a word about this to anyone. Anyone, you hear? My duty to I. Oh, burn. What am I going to do? Well, perhaps you should put out a press statement expressing sympathy for the unemployed. Well, you may be joining them any moment. E. For.

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Best of Yes, Minister & Yes, Prime Minister ft. 1984 Xmas Special! | BBC Comedy Greats

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