Yes Minister — Series 2 (Episodes 1-7)

📺 YM 2.1 ~ 2.7

注意

以下剧本来自字幕文件（SRT）转换，可能包含 OCR 错误。YM 第一季没有可用的字幕文件。

格式说明

🎬 = 场景提示  |  ■ Hacker  |  ■ Sir Humphrey  |  ■ Bernard  |  ■ 其他角色

---

🎬 [CAR DOOR OPENS]

— What is it today, sir?
— The Ministry.
All morning on Health Service administration.
A chap just now on the radio
said the trouble with health,
education and transport
is that people in Government
go to private hospitals
and send their kids to private schools!
Comedy programme, was it?
And go to work in chauffeur-driven cars!
Think there's something in it, sir?
If you and Sir Humphrey
went to work on a number 27...
Quite impracticable!
We work long enough hours as it is,
without having to wait at bus stops.
— You'd need more efficient buses.
— Certainly would.
Yes, that's what he was saying.
Same with the Health Service.
You a member of BUPA, sir?
— Anything on the radio, Roy?
— "Yesterday in Parliament".
Don't bother...

(RADl0)
Mr Lanford,
opposition member for Birmingham,
asked the Administrative
Affairs Minister, James Hacker,
about reducing administrators
in the Health Service.

[HACKER]
We have already
achieved a reduction of 11.3%
in administrative staff
and are actively pursuing
further economies.

(LANF0RD)
Would you explain
how his assurance to the House
squares with this minute
from his own department?

(REP0RTER)
Then Mr Lanford
dramatically produced a paper.

(LANF0RD)
I quote,
"If admin staff were reclassified
"from administrative to technical..."

(MPs CHEERING)
"...and the comparison changed
from the financial to calendar year,
"then the figures will show
a fall of 11.3%. "
Would the Minister care to comment
on this shabby deception?
Bit of a googly, sir.

[HACKER]
I... er... I... erm...
I have no knowledge of the document
you're brandishing.

(LANF0RD)
I shall give
the file reference to the Minister
in exchange for an assurance
of a full independent enquiry.

🎬 [JEERING]

[HACKER]
I will give that assurance.

(REP0RTER)
The House
read the Scottish Fisheries' Bill...
That's a bit rough, innit?
"A full independent enquiry"!
— You were dropped in it there.
— I think I got away with it.
Lucky they didn't ask you
about that new hospital, sir.
They finished it 15 months ago,
and it's still got no patients.
The DHSS can't afford to staff it.
It's got staff, 500 administrators.
— Just no patients.
— Who told you?
My mate Charlie, a driver for the Health Secretary.
— I'm appalled!
— So am I.
The incompetence of it!
I can't think what came over you.
I beg your pardon!
— A full independent enquiry.
— Humphrey, that's not what I meant.
— But you mentioned incompetence.
— Yours, Humphrey, yours!
— Mine?!
— You dropped me into it?
We can't foresee a small omission
from the brief, but a full enquiry?!
I don't want an enquiry, but if
you're drowning and thrown a rope...
That wasn't a rope, it was a noose!
You should've stood up for the department!
I prepared thoroughly
for yesterday's Question Time,
but nowhere was the suggestion you'd juggled
the figures so I'd mislead the House!
You wanted the figures reduced?
So we reduced the figures!
— Yes, but not the administrators.
— Of course not.
— That's not what I meant.
— Minister, one isn't a mind-reader!
— You said reduce them, so we did.
— And another thing:
How did this get out? Another leak?
This isn't a department, it's a colander!
How can we govern responsibly,
if backbenchers get all the facts?
— The enquiry gives us some time.
— So does a time-bomb!
— Is there a disposal squad?
— Disposal squad?
Couldn't we get the independent
enquiry to exonerate us?
— Do you mean rig it?
— No, no, no, no!
Well... yes.
Minister!
It depends on who the chairman is.
— He absolutely has to be sound.
— Sound?
He will know what is required.
He will perceive the implications.
He will have a sympathetic insight
into the problems.
In short, he will be "sound".
You mean... bent?
No, of course not!
He will be a man of broad understanding...
How about... a retired politician?
...and unimpeachable integrity.
Yes, I see what you mean.
— A businessman?
— Oh, really!
— An academic?
— No, no, no.
— Who've you got in mind?
— Perhaps a retired civil servant.
— Good thinking, Humphrey.
— Sir Maurice Williams.
Might not he be too independent?
— Well, he's hoping for a peerage.
— Not through this?
No, but the right finding
will earn him Brownie points!
— Brownie points?!
— They all add up towards the badge!
— Well, Sir Maurice it is.
— Thank you, Minister.
Thank you... Brown Owl.
Oh!
Good morning, Bernard.
— Two points... the Cuban refugees.
— Not that again?
It's about our refusal
to do any more for them.
It's not my fault, it's the Treasury.
You can't beat the Treasury!
I shall say nothing.
One more public humiliation and I'll
become a political refugee myself!
— And the other point?
— The alleged empty hospital.
As I warned you, the driver's network
is not wholly reliable.
— Roy's wrong.
— Thank heavens for that!
— How did you find out?
— The private secretaries' network.
And?
In fact, there are only 342
administrative staff at the hospital.
The other 170 are porters, cleaners,
laundry workers, cooks, etc.
And medical staff?
Oh, none of them.
— None?
— No!
We are talking
about St Edward's Hospital?
Yes. It's brand-new and fully-staffed.
Unfortunately, there were cutbacks,
so there was no money for medical services.
A hospital with over 500 non-medical
staff and no patients?
— There's one patient.
— One?
The deputy administrator fell over
scaffolding and broke his leg.
Good God!
Thank heavens I wasn't asked about this!
Why hasn't it got out?
It's been contrived to look like a building site,
and so far no one's realised it's operational!
You know, scaffolding, skips, the normal thing?
Normal?! I'd better look at it
before the opposition does.
Yes, it's surprising the press haven't found out.
Fortunately, most journalists are so incompetent,
they wouldn't know today is Wednesday.
It's actually Thursday, Minister.
Let's sit down there.
Why is your Minister interested in this hospital?
He's greatly concerned that it has no patients.
— It takes all sorts.
— Yes.
— Evening.
— Good evening.
How can there be patients
when it has no nursing staff?
— Thank you.
— Splendid.
— Sir Humphrey?
— Thank you.
We've found at the DHSS
that it takes time to get things going.
First of all, you have to sort out
the smooth running of the hospital.
Having patients around would be no help at all.
They'd just be in the way.
— Tell him this is the run-in period.
— Yes, yes, the run-in period.
How long is the run-in period going to last?
My Minister's agreed to an independent enquiry.
— You know what I think about that.
— Yes, I know, but...
...we are going to get some
patients into St Edward's...
...eventually?
Aren't we?
It's possible.
Certainly our present intention.
In a year or two.
Probably... when the financial
situation has eased up a bit.
Not till then?
How can I open 40 new wards
when I'm closing everywhere else?
— Treasury wouldn't wear it.
— My Minister may want to shut the place.
Impossible! What about the unions?
— Are the unions active there yet?
— Good point.
Remember that firebrand agitator
at Southwark Hospital?
Billy Fraser, odious man. Could be useful.
Time he was moved on.
The Health Service is an advanced
case of galloping bureaucracy!
Oh, certainly not galloping!
A gentle canter at the most.
— Instances flood into this office.
— From whom, Minister?
MPs, constituents,
doctors, nurses, the public.
Trouble makers!
— The public?!
— They're the worst.
Listen to this.
"Stethoscope requisition: Due to current situation,
"it is not possible to issue
the extra stethoscopes applied for.
"We can, however, supply
longer tubes for your existing stethoscopes."
— Well?
— Doesn't that strike you as odd?
— If they have long tubes...
— No, no.
No, not longer stethoscopes,
MORE stethoscopes.
If they had really long tubes,
the doctor could stand in one place
and listen to all the chests.
What about nurses' uniforms?
"Apparently the latest
consignment of nurses' coats
"is made of a see-through material;
nurses issued with these
"are requested to report
to the Director of Uniform Surveillance
"who will assess the extent of the problem."
— Nice work if you can get it.
— Humphrey, I'm serious!
"Please note that the soft toilet
rolls are for patients not staff.
"It would appear that staff have
been using the soft toilet rolls
"for one reason or another."
"St Stephen's Mortuary
will be closed over Christmas.
"During the holiday,
medical staff are to cooperate
"in keeping pressure off this department."
A very civil and reasonable request.
You think the rest of the year
doctors work hard to keep it busy?
These are a few isolated examples.
The Health Service is as efficient
as the Government allows it.
Nonsense! The figures speak for themselves.
In ten years, the number of
administrators has risen by 40,000.
The number of hospital beds
has fallen by 60,000.
The annual cost of the Health
Service has gone up by �1.5 billion!
If only British industry
could match this growth record.
You think spending more money on fewer patients
so we can employ more administrators
is a good way of spending the taxpayer's money?
Certainly.
This money is solely to make sick people better.
No, no, no, Minister.
It is to make everybody better.
Better for showing the extent
of their care and compassion.
You see, when money is allocated
to the Health or Social Services,
Parliament and the country feel... cleansed.
Purified. Absolved. It is a sacrifice.
Dreadful claptrap!
After the sacrifice, nobody questions
what happened to the offering.
— The public does care if it's misspent.
— They care it's not seen to be misspent.
That's not true. Look at the uproar
over mental hospital scandals.
My point exactly.
Those abuses had been going on happily for years.
Nobody was concerned
what was being done with their money.
— What outraged them was being told!
— A cynical smokescreen!
Do we not agree there's no point
in a hospital run solely for the staff?
— That's not how I would express it.
— It's how I would.
Indeed.
— How would you express it?
— At the end of the day,
one of a hospital's prime functions is patient care.
One?
Until we have the money
for nursing and medical staff,
it's a function we can't pursue.
In 18 months or so...
— 18 months?
...we can open some wards.
No, it's got to be now.
I suppose we could form
an inter-departmental committee
to examine the feasibility of monitoring a proposal
for admitting patients earlier.
— How long would that take to report?
— Not long.
How long? About 18 months...!
I suggest we get rid of all the staff there
and use the money to open
closed wards in other hospitals.
When we can afford it, we open
St Edward's with medical staff.
Do that and you'll delay
the opening for patients for years.
You talk as if the staff have nothing to do!
— What do they do?
— Really, Minister!
There's a large number
of extremely busy departments.
Firstly, the Contingency Department
for fires, strikes, air raids,
nuclear war, epidemics, food or water poisoning.
In such a crisis, the hospital
is a key centre for survival.
Then, the Data and Research Department,
conducting a full-scale demographic
survey of the catchment area.
We have to anticipate the future
requirements for maternity,
geriatrics, paediatrics
and the male/female balance.
Thirdly, there's Finance - projected accounts,
balance sheets and cash-flow budgets.
Then, the Purchasing Department
for purchasing medical equipment,
examining estimates, looking
at price lists and catalogues...
Purchasing what?
Everything, Minister.
Everything from brain scanners
to Brasso! May I continue?
Be briefer.
Would that I could, Minister,
but you need to understand.
Fifth, the Technical Department
for evaluations.
Sixth, the Building Department
dealing with Phase 3 plans,
costing and so forth for the final
phase to be completed by 1994.
Then, there's Maintenance, Cleaning and Catering,
Personnel in charge of leave,
National Health Insurance, salaries,
as well as staff welfare officers
to look after the 500 employees.
— And finally, Administration.
— Administrators!
More administrators administrating
other administrators!
This is important work, Minister.
The typing pool, stationery,
office furniture and equipment.
— Liaison between departments.
— Are you being serious or not?
— What do you mean?
— There are NO patients!
That is what a hospital's for. Patients!
Ill people! Healing the sick!
But all these vital tasks must
be done with or without patients.
Why?
— Why?
I don't understand.
How else can I express it? Why?
Would you sack the army because there's no war?
Completely different!
A hospital must produce results.
We don't measure our success
by results but by activity.
Those 500 people are seriously overworked!
The full establishment should be 650.
May I show you the paperwork?
No, Humphrey. Enough is enough. Sack them!
Out of the question, Minister.
We need administrators
or the hospital will never open.
— Sack the ancillary staff.
— The unions won't wear it.
Sack half and use the money
to get doctors and nurses,
and open some wards!
No, Humphrey, that's my last word. My last word!
You may go!
Very well, Minister.
I shall have a word with the unions.
— But I don't hold out much hope.
— Go!
That seems to be everything.
Thank you for coming.
Thank you very much.
Very good meeting.
— Got time for a drink?
— A quick one.
The usual? Make yourself at home.
Thank you.
What are we going to do about St Edward's?
St Edward's Hospital?
Not much of a case. Can't fight you on it.
What do you mean?
We realise you can't keep ancillary
staff on in an empty hospital.
Isn't that a bit defeatist?
What?
— Surely, you can stick up for them?
— You want us to...?
It's not just your workers, you know?
The 342 civil servants must have
some workers to administer.
— Civil servants are never laid off.
— We live in disturbing times.
You mean, if we take industrial
action, you'll support us?
My dear Brian, I am the Permanent Secretary.
My task is to turn the wheels of government.
I couldn't possibly countenance any such action.
But... if there were effective opposition
from the ancillary workers,
the civil servants would have to stay.
And the Minister?
The Minister doesn't know
his ACAS from his NALGO.
I haven't got much of a case.
Hospital empty for 15 months,
wards not open for another year.
Pull yourself together. Think of your
members' wives and children.
Their... cats... budgies!
They're resigned to it by now.
Is Billy Fraser resigned to it?
Yes... but he's over at Southwark.
Do you want to bet?
You mean...?
Well, that's a different matter,
with some real shop-floor militancy.
You see? Unity. Solidarity.
— Thanks for the drink.
— Thank you, Brother.
Please give my kind regards
to our fraternal comrades.

🎵 We shall not

We shall not be moved #
Minister, this is Mrs Rogers,
the chief administrator.
— Nice to meet you.
— Billy Fraser, committee chairman.
— How nice to meet you.
— I wouldn't be too sure.
This is 'F' ward.

🎬 [RACKET OF TYPEWRITERS AND PHONES]

🎬 [PHONES RING INCESSANTLY]

And this is 'J' theatre.
— How much did all this cost?
— With radiotherapy... two and a quarter million.
— It's appalling it's not used!
— No, a very good thing in some ways.
Prolongs its life, cuts down running costs.
But there are no patients!
But essential work has to go on.
Aren't patients essential work?
Running an organisation
of 500 people is a big job.
But if they weren't here, they wouldn't be here!
This is wrong. It won't do.
Either get some patients or I'll close it.
— Well, in the course of time...
— Not in the course of time. Now!
Get rid of 300 staff, get some
doctors and get some patients!
Without those 300 people
this hospital wouldn't function!
And it's functioning now?
Minister, it's one of the best-run
hospitals in the country.
It's up for a Florence Nightingale Award.
— What, pray, is that?
— "The Most Hygienic Hospital".
I've said my last word. 300 staff must go.
— 300 jobs lost?!
— Surgery with a skeleton staff?!
Don't do any surgery. Do varicose
veins, piles... Do something!
— You mean 300 jobs lost?!
— Yes, I do.
A hospital is a place for healing of the sick!
It's employment for my members,
and you want to sack them.
Is that your compassionate society?
Compassionate to patients
rather than your members!
We'll come out on strike.
Very well, do that.
Who can it harm? Do, please!
Strike, the sooner the better!
Take the administrators with you.
Then we shan't have to pay you.
— How about a drink before home?
— Yes. Thank you, Minister.
— That went well at the hospital.
— Yes, Minister.
— I wasn't standing any argument.
— No, Minister.
Threatening to strike!
Played right into my hands. Cheers!
Aren't we missing the news?
0ur diplomatic correspondent
says the US is pressuring the UK
to take Cuban refugees.
The Government has made no comment.
Got no money.
All workers in London hospitals
are to go on strike at Friday midnight.
Right... What?!
A row has blown up at St Edwards
over the proposed laying-off
of 170 ancillary workers.
We spoke to activist Billy Fraser.
We're striking against unemployment.
We can bring London's hospitals
to a complete standstill.
There'll be no blood transfusions,
no cancer treatment, nothingl
Till we have the compassionate society.
— How can you do this to patients?
— It's Mr Hacker that's doing it.
But you're inflicting terrible
sanctions on the innocent public.
I'd like to take this opportunity
to assure the general public,
every stone will be left unturned
in a search for a settlement.
Have you seen the news?
You said you'd talk to the unions!
— What are we going to do?
— We have a more serious problem.
Sir Maurice's independent enquiry
about the department.
It's unfavourable to us.
You said he was sound!
I know, but he's also working as chairman
of the Refugee Resettlement Committee.
There are more Brownie points
for refugees than enquiries!
Precisely, Minister.
We've no money to re-house the refugees.
— Minister?
— I don't want to talk!
It's Number 10...
Hello, Ji...
Yes. Quite.
I see.
Not at all. Thank you.
They've seen Fraser on the news.
They want a peace formula soon!
Sir Maurice says he'll be satisfied
only if the UK will house 1,000 refugees.
But we haven't the money.
Or for 1,000 hospital beds...
— How many refugees?
— 1,000.
1,000 refugees? 1,000 beds!
Minister, that hospital is
for sick British not healthy foreigners!
— There's a huge waiting list.
— Didn't you just say
Sir Maurice's enquiry was likely
to come down against us?
— That's a...
— That what you want?
I see your point, Minister.
Bernard, reinstate all the workers
at St Edward's.
Tell Sir Maurice we can offer a new hospital,
with accommodation for 1,000 refugees.
Tell the press it was my decision
and that everybody's happy.
— Do want to give a quote, Minister?
— Why not? Say...
"It was a tough decision, but a necessary one.
"If Britain is to retain the name of..."
— "The compassionate society"?
— Thank you.
"...the compassionate society."
Got that?
Yes, Minister.
We can't economise in accommodation?

[WOMAN]
'Fraid not, Minister.
— Data-processing equipment?
— Not possible.
— The further education budget?
— Sadly, it can't be.
At least the universities won't cost us as much,
with overseas students paying fees
covering education costs.
— Unless you make exceptions...?
— No, sorry, no exceptions.
At least, that's one saving.
— Minister, it's...
— Yes, of course.
That's all, I'm afraid. Meeting over.
— Thank you
— Thank you.
Before Sir Humphrey comes,
Number 10 asked you to approve
recommendations for the honours list.
That's the eighth time you've asked.
Are honours the most serious
concern of this department?
They are to the people on the list.
Some haven't slept for days!
What are they worried about?
Ministers never veto honours.
It's possible.
They're worried about the delay.
How do people know they're listed?
It's marked "Strictly Confidential".
Oh, Minister...
Silly of me.
If they'd put some of that effort
into cutting expenditure...
How can I make people want economies
in the same way they want OBEs and KCBs?
I've been thinking... No, no, no.
— What?
— No, no, nothing...
Spit it out.
It's not my place, and I couldn't
possibly recommend it...
Suppose you were to refuse
to recommend any honours
for civil servants who hadn't cut
their budgets by 5%...?
— Bernard!
— Sorry, Minister...
No, Bernard! It's brilliant!
It's the answer. It's the only hold
we have over the civil servants.
I can't stop their pay rises or their promotions.
I don't even write their reports,
but I can withhold their honours!
— Well done.
— You thought of it, Minister.
— No, no, you thought of it.
— No, you thought of it.
Please!
Just a touch, please. Thank you very much.
Splendid dinner. I always enjoy my visits here.
I'm afraid this could be your last.
Why? Did I pass the port the wrong way?
— Tell him, Bursar.
— The college's going to the wall.
It's your new policy of charging
overseas students full rates.
Other Oxford colleges can cope,
but we've always had many
overseas students here at Baillie.
You simply charge them a full fee, no problem.
Unless they can't pay �4,000 a year.
They won't come.
I've been all over the USA, selling
them the idea of an Oxford education.
Africa is crawling with British professors
frantically trying to flog
sociology courses to the natives.
And India and the Middle East.
Competition is cut-throat.
Why not fill up vacancies
with British undergraduates?
I don't think that's awfully funny, Humphrey.
— I wasn't trying to be funny.
— Anything but home students!
— Why?
— We only get 500 a head for them.
We'd have to take 400
to replace a mere 50 foreigners.
The staff/student ratio would go from 1:10 to 1:34.
We'd have classrooms, dormitories...
like Wormwood Scrubs!
Or the University of Sussex!
The Master thinks the pictures
may fetch �20-30,000.
The pictures and silver together
might just pay the mortgage interest.
Dear, oh, dear!
Or we could get the Government
to treat us as an exception.
Interestingly, Humphrey,
it seems to be your Minister
who has the authority.
How might one persuade a Minister
of the importance of Baillie College?
Why not get him down to a High Table dinner?
Is he of the intellectual calibre
to understand our case?
Oh, yes!
It's intelligible to anyone
with the intellectual calibre of Winnie the Pooh!
Quite!
And Hacker is of the intellectual
calibre of Winnie the Pooh?
Oh, yes!
On his day.
— Morning, Minister.
— Morning, Humphrey.
Two things, Minister.
Firstly, the departmental
recommendations for the honours list.
— The honours list again!
— Yes, Minister.
— Let's leave that for the moment.
— We can't leave it, Minister.
— It's getting near the five weeks.
— Five weeks?
All recipients are notified five weeks before.
It gives them time to refuse.
When did a civil servant last refuse an honour?!
Somebody in the Treasury refused a knighthood.
— When?
— I think it was 1496.
— Why?
— He'd already got one.
— If you've approved the list...
— Humphrey...
...did you know that 20%
of honours go to civil servants?
A fitting tribute to their devotion to duty.
That's what they get paid for.
The rest of us have to do
something special to get an honour.
They work for years with the mentally
handicapped to get an MBE.
Your knighthoods simply come up with the rations.
Minister, her Majesty's
civil servants spend their lives
working for a modest wage
and at the end retire into obscurity.
Honours are a small reward for a lifetime of loyal,
self-effacing discretion
and devoted service to the nation.
— "A modest wage"?
— Alas, yes.
You get over �30,000 a year!
— That's �7,000 more than I get.
— But still relatively modest.
Relative to whom?
Elizabeth Taylor, for example.
You are not relative to Elizabeth Taylor.
There are important differences.
Indeed, yes. She didn't get a first at Oxford.
And retire into obscurity?!
You take a massive pension
and become directors of oil companies.
But very obscure directors.
You're in no danger of the sack.
In industry, you get the boot.
In the civil service,
if you screw up, I get the boot!
— Very droll, Minister. The list...
— No, Humphrey.
I'll not approve any honour
to any civil servant who hasn't earned it.
— What do you mean, "earned it"?
— I mean "earned it".
— Done something to deserve it.
— But that's unheard of!
My new policy is to withhold
all honours from civil servants
who do not make a cut
in their budgets of 5% per year.
Your silence indicates approval?
It does not! Where did you get
that preposterous idea?
It...
...just came to me.
— It's ridiculous! Unheard of!
The whole idea is... It's...
It strikes at the very roots of...
It's the beginning of the end!
The thin end of the wedge! A Bennite solution!
What next? Abolition of the monarchy?
Don't be absurd.
The system has worked so well in the past.
It hasn't.
— Give it a fair trial.
— I thought you might say that...
The Most Noble Order of the Garter
was founded in 1348 by Edward III.
It's at the end of its trial period now.
Minister, if you block honours pending economies,
you might create a dangerous precedent.
If we do the right thing now,
we'll have to do the right thing next time?
— Nothing would get done at all!
— On the contrary.
— Many things must be done, but...
...nothing done for the first time!
No, Minister!
I'm fully seized of your aims,
and I'll try to put them into practice.
To that end,
I recommend we set up a committee
with broad terms of reference,
so we're in a position to think
through the various implications
and decide based on long-term considerations
rather than rush prematurely
into precipitate and ill-conceived actions
which might have unforeseen repercussions.
You mean "no"?
I mean, as far as one can see,
in the fullness of time...
No, no, no, Humphrey.
You know me: Action now!

[MUTTERS]
Action now.
Nobody in their right mind can want honours.
They encourage sycophancy, snobbery, jealousy,
and civil servants shouldn't get them all!
— But Minister...
— No, no! I'm sorry. I have decided.
— Your other point?
— Other point?
— You had two.
— Did I?
Yes, I'm sorry. The shock!
Yesterday, I had representations
from Baillie College, Oxford.
Grants for overseas students...
They'll lose millions a year.
They must just take more British students.
Nothing would please them more, but you see...
...Baillie has many foreign students,
and there could be repercussions
at the schools of tropical medicine,
international law,
and the Arabic department
may have to close down.
We can't educate foreigners
at the taxpayer's expense.
Not just foreigners.
If the diplomatic service had nowhere
to immerse its recruits,
the results could be catastrophic,
with a pro-Israeli Foreign Office!
What would happen to our oil policy?
Its recruits must go elsewhere.
Where else would they learn Arabic?
Arabia?
Baillie College has an outstanding record.
— It's filled our jails for years.
— Jails?
Yes. The letters "JB" are the finest
honour in the Commonwealth.
— "JB"?
— "Jailed by the British".
Gandhi, Nkrumah, Makarios,
Ben-Gurion, Kenyatta, Nehru, Mugabe.
The list of leaders is endless
and contains several of our students.
"Our students"?
Humphrey... which college did you go to?
That is quite beside the point.
I like being beside the point.
Humour me, Humphrey.
Which college did you go to?
Was it Baillie, by any strange coincidence?
It so happens... I am a Baillie man,
but that has nothing to do with it!
No, of course not.
Perish the thought. Naughty.
Yes? The division, Minister.
That rather settles it. No more time.
Am I voting "aye" or "no"?
— "No". It's a...
— I don't want to know what it is.
I don't want to go through the wrong door.

🎬 [KNOCK AT DOOR]

Arnold?
Humphrey! Do sit down.
Hope you don't mind my dragging you here.
— No, please.
— I was worried about your Minister.
Linking honours to economies.
That? A lot of nonsense.
Good. You mean it's not true?
Not exactly. That is, he did just mention it.
— But...
— But what?
I can't find any effective arguments against it.
— It's the thin end of the wedge.
— That's what I said.
— A Bennite solution.
— I said that.
— Where will it end?
— That's what I said.
No, it's intolerable, but...
...irresistible.
I'm not reprimanding you,
I don't know the facts well enough.
I'd like your assurance
that he won't be putting it into practice.
I certainly hope he won't.
I'm not sure that hopes are good enough.
If he applied it to your department,
the contagion would spread!
Every department!
— Presumably, we can count on you?
— I shall certainly try.
— But... it's rather tricky.
— You know what you're doing.
This could cause people
to reflect on your soundness.
I've no doubts about you myself, but...
— I thought a chat would be useful.
— Absolutely. Thank you.
By the way, I had our college
master on the phone.
— He said you dined at Baillie.
— Right!
I assured them your Minister would
treat them as a special case.
Yes... Yes...
I've got the Minister coming
to a benefactors' dinner.
Good. Sound man.
I must be getting over to Number 10.
Thanks for dropping in.
Pleasure...
...Arnold.
Sir Humphrey saw the Cabinet Secretary
and got the most frightful wigging.
Really tore him off a strip because
of your economies-honours scheme.
— Your scheme.
— We've been through all that.
Sorry. My scheme.
Why wig someone as high up as Humphrey?
Normally, it's civilised,
but this time it was no-holds-barred.
Sir Arnold said he wasn't
actually reprimanding him.
— Bad as that, was it?
— Yes.
He suggested some people
might not think he was sound.
— A real punch-up!
— Indeed.
What has Sir Arnold to fear?
He has all the honours he could want.
— He has his "G".
— "G"?
— You get your "G" after your "K".
— You speak in riddles.
First you get the CMG,
then the KCMG and the GCMG,
the Command of the Order
of St Michael and St George,
Knight Grand Cross of St George.
In the service, CMG stands for "Call Me God".
And KCMG for "Kindly Call Me God".
And GCMG?
"God Calls Me God".
Why should Sir Arnold worry?
He has his full quota of honours.
Nowhere near!
There's a peerage, the CH,
the OM, the Knight of the Thistle...
Knight of the Thistle? Who for?
— Scotsmen and donkeys?!
— There's a distinction.
You haven't met the Scottish Nationalists!
— How do they award the Thistle?
— A committee sits on it.
Does Humphrey think I'll change university policy
over High Table dinner?
I believe Baillie College give
a very good dinner, Minister.
— How much further?
— A few minutes. The M40's good.
So's the M4...
Why did we get two really good roads to Oxford
before any to Southampton
or Dover or any of the ports?
Nearly all our Permanent Secretaries
went to Oxford, Minister,
and most Oxford colleges give very good dinners.
— The Cabinet allow that?
— Certainly not.
They said no motorway to take
civil servants to Oxford,
unless there was one to take
Ministers hunting in the shires.
That's why the M1 stopped in Leicestershire!
Oh, come!
What about the M11 just completed?
Doesn't Cambridge give as good dinners?
Yes, of course, but it's been years
since Transport had a Permanent
Secretary from Cambridge.

🎬 [CHATTER]

For a college on the edge
of bankruptcy, not a bad dinner!
The Fitzwalter Dinner is paid for by endowment,
a great 16th-century benefactor.
Most nights we eat Mother's Pride
and processed cheese.
You need a 20th-century benefactor.
— Interesting you should say that.
— Why?
Benefactors are few and far between.
Isaac Wolfson is only the second man
to have a college named after him
— at Oxford and Cambridge.
— Who's the first?
Jesus.
— Jesus?
— Jesus... Christ.
Some of our most revered benefactors are men
who saved the college
from the depredations of Government.
Their names are remembered
and hallowed for centuries.
— It's a sort of immortality.
— Really?
What did these benefactors do?
Take Sir William de Vere, his coat
of arms are there and in chapel.
He diverted the baronial army
away from Baillie in the 15th century.
He had the soldiers billetted
at St George's College.
— I didn't know there was a St George's.
— There isn't. Not since that.
Then, there's George Monkton,
whom Monkton Quad's named after.
He stopped Cromwell melting
all the college silver down
to pay for his army.
He told them the silver was better
quality at Trinity, Cambridge!
Now, it looks like there'll be
no college left to remember.
Unless we can solve
the problem of overseas students.

🎬 [MURMURS OF AGREEMENT]

Well, of course, one would like to...
...help oneself.
Er... help one's friends.
Help the college.
— Nothing to do with the honour.
— Of course not! Ignoble thought.
The Minister believes
it's a politician's duty to help others.

🎬 [SLURRING]

Absolutely. Name of the game.
That's why we go into politics, to help others.
I'm an idealist, nothing to do with the honour.
Most of the honour comes after you're dead.
Not much satisfaction from having
your name on the silver sconce
when you're six feet under!
Incidentally, Master,
to change the subject completely...
...when do you award
your honorary doctorates?
The ceremony's not for a few months,
but we have to decide in two weeks.
— Doctorate?
— Aren't they decided?
There is one Doctorate of Law still to be decided.
We're wondering whether it should go
to a judge or someone in Government.

[SLURS]
Judge?!
You don't want to make a judge a Doctor of Law!
The politicians make the laws and pass the laws.
If it wasn't for politicians,
the judges wouldn't be able to judge.
There'd be no laws to judge!
— Yes, indeed.
— Quite!
They'd have nothing to do.
Queues of unemployed judges...
...in silly wigs!
It's all right for judges.
They don't have to suck up
to TV producers, lie to journalists.
They don't have to pretend
to like their Cabinet colleagues.
I'll tell you something else...
...if judges had to put up
with some of my colleagues,
they'd bring capital punishment back tomorrow!
Bloody good job, too!
I'll tell you another thing...
...I can't send him to prison.
Can't send him to prison.
If I were a judge, I could whiz
old Humpy off to the Scrubs.
Feet wouldn't touch. Clang bang!
See you in three years.
One third remission for good conduct.
I can't do that!
I have to listen to him.
Oh, God!
On and on and on!
Some of his sentences
are longer than Judge Jeffreys'!
No, no, no. Politicians are much more deserving.
You don't want to give
your doctory honourates to judges.
Definitely not!
Beautifully argued, Minister.
I see now... we shouldn't give it to a judge.
— You put the case most expertly.
— Almost like a Doctor of Law.
I can see you there now in the Sheldonian,
standing there in those magnificent crimson robes,
receiving your doctorate in front
of an assembly of eminent scholars.

[HUMPHREY]
Wonderful.

[MASTER]
Marvellous.
How funny you should say that.
I was just thinking the same thing.
Morning, Minister. Morning, Bernard.
Most enjoyable dinner last night.
I wonder if we could have
a private chat. Forgive us, Bernard.
Minister...
...the master of Baillie has asked me to enquire
whether you'd accept an honorary doctorate of law.
Me? Good heavens!
— It's... not an offer.
— No, of course not.
Of course, in view of your
well-known hostility to honours...
Don't be silly. This is quite different.
Not entirely, Minister.
It's a matter of accepting it
without doing anything to deserve it,
as you might put it
in your refreshingly blunt fashion.
I'm a Cabinet Minister!
— Isn't that what you're paid for?
— Yes, but... No!
Yes, but...
I can't refuse a vote of confidence
in the Government, not just oneself.
No, quite. As I say, it's not certain, it's...

[HUMPHREY HUMS TO HIMSELF]
Humphrey, to change the subject completely,
I'd like to do what I can for Baillie
in this overseas students business.
Oh, good!
But wouldn't I need a pretext... a reason?
No, Minister, no problem.
The Palace has been under pressure
from certain African leaders.
We can't embarrass the Palace,
so we'll redesignate Baillie
as a Commonwealth Education Centre.
But where am I to find the money?
I'm set on 5% cuts across the board.
If that's achieved, anything's possible.
— The committee are waiting.
— Very well, show them in.
I suppose we could achieve the cuts
in this department,
if the absurd idea of linking
honours to cuts were to be shelved.
— I see.
— Yes...

[HUMPHREY]
Thank you, Bernard.

[HACKER]
Morning.
Now, minutes of the previous meeting?
Matters arising: Accommodation.
Oh, yes!
I'm happy to be able to tell you
that we have found a 5% cut,
by selling an office in High Wycombe.
— Oh, really?
— Yes.
— Yes, very good.
— Yes.
Stationery acquisition?
We've discovered a new stock control
system to reduce expenditure.
— By how much?
— About 5%, wasn't it?
Excellent! Parks and Forestry?
If we delay the new computers,
we can make a saving.
— By how much?
— Yes...?
— About 5%.
— Yes, about 5%.
— Really?
— That cuts data processing, too.
— By...?
— By...
By about 5%.
— This is most satisfying.
— Yes.
Incidentally, while I think of it,
have you finished with the list
for the honours secretary?
Yes, Humphrey. No problem there.
Bernard will give it to you.
— Thank you, Bernard.
— All right, Humphrey?
Yes, Doctor... er, Minister.
Minister, there's something
in the press you should see.
— About me?
— I'm afraid it's in Private Eye.
— Private Eye?
— Yes... They're exposing something.
Not that character reference
I gave for Dr Savundra?
— That party at Poulson's?
— I didn't know about those.
No, that's the thing they make up
in that squalid little rag!
— What is it?
— Perhaps you'd better read it.
— Good God!
— Frightful, isn't it?
— May I come in, Minister?
— Listen to this.
What's that? Oh, Private Eye? Splendid!
"The saga of the top secret Guthrie Report,
"revealed to the Eye last week,
continues to embarrass Ministers.
"It seems one of the present Cabinet
subjected to phone-tapping,
"bugging and 24-hour surveillance
while in opposition
"was none other than the egregious Jim Hacker."
What's "egregious" mean?
I think it means "outstanding".
Oh...?
In one way or another.
"...Jim Hacker, whose department
administers 23,000 other administrators.
"Ironically, it is egregious Jim's
department that is now responsible
"for supplying all the government's
computerised bugging equipment.
"Presumably, this makes him
the government's chief bugger."
Wonderful!
— Is this true?
— Which, Minister?
That I was under surveillance
and am now responsible for bugging.
Surely, you don't believe what
you read in that squalid little rag.
— Never mind. Is it true?
— Don't take it too seriously.
Well, I do! This says
I was under total surveillance.
An MP and free citizen!
It cuts at the very heart of democracy!
It contravenes human rights.
Oh, yes...
Surveillance is indispensable
in the battle against organised crime.
You're not describing politicians
as organised crime?
Disorganised crime, too, of course!
Humphrey! I once wrote a leader
on this as editor of "Reform"
and started a nationwide petition
against bureaucratic busybodies,
bugging and phone-tapping.
Now I learn from Private Eye,
Humphrey, not from you,
that I'm responsible for it, and you never told me.
You didn't ask.
Thank God for a free press
and for one open, fearless journal!
— You said it was a squalid rag.
— Sharpen up your antennae.
Learn to adapt more flexibly
to a developing situation.
I see. I'm sorry.
Where are the transcripts
of these bugged conversations?
They were put into a report.
— Who got these reports?
— The Home Secretary gets them.
Gets them? Gets them?
Not about you, Minister. Not now.
Now he'll be getting reports
about Her Majesty's opposition.
— Who gives them to him?
— Ml5, presumably.
— You seem very calm about all this.
— Yes, Minister.
I think it's horrifying, a distinguished citizen -
if I may say so, an extremely
distinguished British citizen -
who's given his life's service to his country,
finds these faceless bureaucrats
have listened to his every word.
All his phone calls.
His rows with his wife and daughter.
His private arrangements
with his accountant! Not that I...!
— No, quite so.
— Well, why, Humphrey?
— Why surveillance or why you?
— Both!
— It's the same answer.
— Why split it into two questions?
I didn't want to risk answering
a question you weren't asking.
I'm asking you now.
Why was I under surveillance?
It's perfectly obvious. Do you mind?
Before the election, it was rumoured you'd be
appointed Defence Secretary.
So?
If the PM was giving you defence,
in the national interest,
that Ml5 must be satisfied
you weren't a security risk.
— My privacy was invaded!
— Better than your country, Minister.
Have you ever been under surveillance?
— Me, Minister?!
— You.
I'm a civil servant!
So were Burgess and MacLean.
— Oh, well...
— And Philby!
They weren't Permanent Secretaries.
One becomes a Permanent Secretary
after a life of reliability and integrity.
The rigorous selection procedures winnow out all
but the most upright
and honourable public servants.
— And what about Ministers?
— They have many dazzling qualities!
Including...?
Enviable intellectual suppleness
and moral manoeuvrability.
What are you trying to say?
You can't trust them! Not you, of course, Minister.
Ministers, unlike civil servants,
are selected at random
by prime ministerial whim,
in recognition of dubious services rendered,
or to avoid appointing someone of real ability.
Not you, Minister! You certainly are to be trusted.
You might almost be a civil servant yourself!
— Is that a compliment?
— Indeed. The ultimate compliment.
Would you trust every Cabinet colleague
never to betray a confidence?
— And all the opposition front bench?
— You must be joking!
You were in the opposition at the time.
Be that as it may,
I have decided I'm going to stop it.
— But this is a Home Office matter.
— Nevertheless, I'll make it harder.
If I'm responsible for bugging,
I want some democratic safeguards.
Are you about to suggest that people
won't be put under surveillance
until they've signed a form agreeing to it?
No, we'll have a select committee
to vet every application,
and no surveillance to last over two
weeks without a further application.
Will you set the wheels in motion,
please, Humphrey?
Very well, Minister.
Bernard, send a minute to each Cabinet member.
I'll plant a question for a backbencher to ask.
"Can you assure us no colleagues
have ever been under surveillance?"
— That should shake him.
— It certainly will.
Ask Walter Fowler of the Express
to meet me for a drink.
— What for, Minister?
— First law of political indiscretion:
Always have a drink before you leak.
— Will it make a story?
— Yes.
"Minister fights
for phone-tap safeguard." Yes!
— Where will they run it?
— High up on the home news page.
— Not on page one?
— Can I attribute it?
— "Minister speaks out"?
— No, no, no.
Then, where did I get the story?
I can't say, "Officially announced."
"Government spokesman"?
How about, "Sources close to Minister"?
Hold on, I don't want everybody
to know I told you!
Couldn't you do, "Speculation
is growing in Westminster"?
A bit weak.
"Unofficial spokesman"?
Used that twice this week already!
The Cabinet's leaking like a sieve, isn't it?
Couldn't we attribute it to a leading
member of the sieve... Cabinet?
No...
How would you like to be "an informed source"?
OK. "Informed source."
Quite a joke, isn't it,
describing someone as "informed"
when his Permanent Secretary
is Sir Humphrey Appleby?!
Everything we said on the phone,
recorded and transcribed.
— It's humiliating!
— It is a little humiliating.
That Ml5 know you talk at home
the same as you talk in public.
The gross national product, borrowing
requirements, draft agendas...
I didn't mean that! I meant our private talk.
I hadn't thought of that..."Got the car keys?"
"I thought you had them!"
That'll bring the government down!
— You're not taking it seriously.
— What gives you that idea?
They might've heard what we said... in bed!
Why? Do you snore in code?
— You trying to tell me something?
— Since you ask,
why don't we go away
for the weekend like we used to?
Yes. Why not? What the hell!
— Let's go to Kingsbury Down.
— Where?
Only where we spent our honeymoon, darling!
Yes...
Where you first explained to me
the effect of velocity of circulation
on the net growth of money supply.
Yeah... I remember.
Did you get that, boys?
The Minister... on a death list?
Well, who are the International Freedom Army?
— We do not, as yet, know.
— Why assassinate the Minister?
He's so harmless!
Nevertheless, we cannot risk the Minister's life.
— No. That means the full...?
— Quite!
— Morning, Minister!
— Morning, Minister, how are you?
— Sorry I'm late. Didn't sleep well.
— Sorry to hear that.
Actually, I feel like death.
Perhaps that's just as well.
— See this morning's Express?
— Indeed.
— "Minister acts to curb phone taps."
— Wonder where they got that.
A leak, I suppose. Terrible, isn't it?
Terrible.
It only reaffirms my determination to act.
Are you sure you've considered
all the implications?
Yes. Free citizens have a right to privacy.
But suppose Ml5 had reason
to believe these free citizens were,
to take a purely hypothetical example,
planning to assassinate a Minister?
The freedom of the British people
is worth more than a Minister's life.
Freedom is indivisible.
Ministers are expendable.
A man in public life must expect
to be the target of cranks and fanatics.
It is a Minister's duty to set his life at naught.
He must be able to stand up and say,
"Here I am! Do your worst!"
And not cower in craven terror
behind electronic equipment,
secret microphones
and all the hideous apparatus...
of the police state.
— Ahem...
— I don't want to hear about it.
I must say one more thing on this matter.
Very well. Be brief.
Special Branch have found
your name on a death list.
That has no bearing on the situation.
What?!
Special Branch have found
your name on a death list.
— A death list...?
— An assassination.
I know what you mean by death list,
but what do you mean?
I don't think I can put it
any more clearly, Minister.
To put it absolutely bluntly,
investigations have proved
the existence of documents
whose provenance is unestablished
but whose effect would be
to precipitate a bye-election.
What do you mean?
You're on a death list, Minister.
Who and why?
The International Freedom Army,
a new urban guerrilla group.
— What've they got against me?
— As you may recall,
there have been rumours of a Cabinet reshuffle,
and your name was linked
with the Ministry of Defence.
— Who can they be?
— An Irish splinter group?
Baader-Meinhof, PLO or Black
September or home-grown loonies!
Anarchists, Maoists, Libyans,
Iranians or the Italian Red Brigade,
for all we know.
But they're all connected, so it could be
a new group of freelance killers.
Special Branch don't know where to start.
— The list isn't just me?
— Not just you, Minister.
— There must be hundreds on...
— Just three.
Just three.

🎬 [BUZZER]

Yes? Commander Forest of Special Branch.
— Shall I...?
— Please do.
The Home Secretary wants
detectives to protect you.
— This man will inform you.
— Detectives?!
They can't protect you
against the assassin's bullet!
Certainly not, but they can determine
the assassin is brought to trial.
After the victim has been gunned down, of course.
Commander Forest of Special Branch.
— Morning, Commander.
— Morning, sir.
— Sit down.
— Thank you.
You've been told about this list, sir?
List? What list? Oh, list, yes.
I'll brief you on the standard
hazards and precautions.
— Thank you, Bernard.
— Do I have to take it seriously?
In a sense, that's up to you. We advise...
Most people might be in a frightful funk,
but it's all in a day's work!
— I admire your courage, sir.
— Thank you.
Right, well...
Shoot. I mean...!
Assassination hazards fall into four categories:
Bullets, bombs, poisons
and so-called accidents.
There's also gassing,
throttling, stabbing, drowning,
garrotting and ritual disembowelling,
but they are uncommon in the UK.
— All right, then.
— Start with bullets.
There's your assassin
on a tall building or in a car,
your killer in a crowd and phut!
There's the unexpected house caller,
your marksman in a van,
and the revolver through your car window.
So avoid crowds
and keep away from windows.
Commander, could I suggest
bullet-proof curtains for the office?
— Bullet-proof!
— By lunchtime, sir.
We'll fit them in your London flat
when we do the place over.
— Do it over?
— The usual locks, security alarms.
24-hour patrols by local staff, phone taps.
Just the usual?!
You'll have bodyguards round the clock.
Never answer your door in person
and keep car windows locked.
Never draw up by the pavement at lights.
You don't want a terrorist to jump in!
— No.
— Course not!
If he draws his car in front of yours,
ram the axle and sweep it aside,
Bombs! Car bombs you know,
but never open letters.
For the time being, we'll re-direct them.
Now, poisons... Be suspicious
of gifts of food, chocolates.
Check the milk bottle caps
every morning for hypodermic holes.
Don't forget the poisoned umbrella
jabbed into the calf.
Now... accidents.
Never walk along the edge
of pavements, rivers, railway platforms.
We don't want to make it too easy for them.
Especially the electric railway -
so avoid the Tube.
Electrocution... another favourite.
A little tinkering with the telly,
toaster, electric blanket and Bob's your uncle!
Your late uncle.
They have to be checked. Any questions?
Good! Here's your list of standard
safety precautions.
— I'll be in touch.
— Thank you, Commander.
If you're pushed out of a window
with railings underneath,
try and land on your head.
Quicker!
Humphrey... how do we find
these terrorists before they find me?
Phone tapping and surveillance
of suspects is the best way,
but it does incur intolerable
intrusion on individual privacy.
On the other hand...
the people's representatives
must represent the people.
Any threat to them is a threat
against democracy, isn't it?
How?
These threats constitute
an attack on the people's
inalienable democratic right
to have leaders of their choice, who must
be protected by every possible means,
no matter how much we might regret
the necessity for doing so.
Beautifully argued, Minister. My view exactly.
Or else you're a dead duck.
Good God! What's that?
— The petition's arrived.
— Petition?
Against phone tapping and surveillance.
The one you started in opposition.
2.25 million signatures.
But we need surveillance!
It's an essential weapon
in our fight against crime, right?
I couldn't have put it better myself.
— I see. Shall I file it?
— Shred it! No one must find it.
In that case, I think it's best I file it.
Great way to spend a second honeymoon!
Table for...?
— Eight!
— Two.
I've a nice table by the window.
— We've chosen the target's table.
— Target?
Sorry, Minister. Over there by the kitchen door.
You sit here, sir.
Constable Ross will be watching
the kitchen door, your escape route.
We're not expecting assassins here,
since we only booked this morning.
I'll sit by the window.
If you hear gunshots, get under the table.
I'm not really worried.
(POP!)
It was just a champagne cork, darling.
Just practising.

[DETECTIVE]
I'll have spaghetti bolognaise,
then T-bone steak, peas,
beans, cauliflower and chips,
and a bottle of Ch�teau
Baron Philippe de Rothschild 1961.
Takes it out of you, this job.
— Beautiful, isn't it?
— Beautiful.
Quiet and peaceful.
Lovely to get away from it all.
Lovely.
— This all right for you?
— Lovely.
Not James Bond? I thought it was "Belle du Jour".
Yes, but they didn't want to see a foreign film.

🎬 [OMINOUS MUSIC]

🎬 [MUSIC BUILDS]

🎬 [GUNSHOT]

I can't stand this.
— Target in there now?
— Yeah, with his wife.
— They going out again?
— Nah, turned in for the night.
They don't seem to be enjoying the holiday.
Wonder why...?
I can't sleep here.
I'm going home.
What the hell's all this?

[DETECTIVE]
Local force, sir,
showing they're doing their bit.

🎬 [KNOCK AT DOOR]

Come in. Oh, you're in!
— May I just check the windows?
— Go ahead.
Thank you. Goodnight, sir.
Sleep well.
Don't worry, darling. You'll get used
to being a famous man's wife.
I hope so.
I don't want to be a famous man's widow!
But... I don't follow.
You want to stop phone tapping,
you get this petition of 2.25 million
signatures to boost your case,
and you won't even give me
a quote saying you welcome it.
A promise to implement
its recommendations?
— It's not that simple.
— Why not?
— There are security implications.
— There always were.
OK, I'll make an even bigger story:
"Minister rejects his own petition."
Now, hold on! I...
Are you accepting it or rejecting it?
No.
My editor asks if being on this death list
has altered your views on phone tapping.
Heavens! What an extraordinary idea!
— So why this change of tune?
— No change of tune.

🎬 [KNOCK]

— Can Sir Humphrey see you?
— Humphrey! What can I do for you?
— Excuse us.
— Won't be a minute.
I'll wait out there.
Good weekend?
Marvellous.
Me, Annie and half of Special Branch.
— Rozzers with guns. Unforgettable!
— The burdens of office!
— This can't go on.
— You said it! It isn't going to.
Special Branch is withdrawing your protection.
Wait a minute! I didn't mean... Why?
They've suffered an acute
personnel establishment shortfall.
— They're what?
— Short-staffed. No more protection.
Short-staffed?!
There's a more dangerous threat
to the Soviet premier at Chequers.
— But he's Russian, I'm British!
— In fact,
Special Branch believe the threat
to your life has diminished.
How do they know?
Surveillance of a conversation.
— What did it say?
— It's of no...
I've a right to know.
Well, it was to the effect that,
in view of the nebulous
and inexplicit nature of your remit,
the arguably marginal and peripheral
nature of your influence on decisions
within the political process,
there could be a case
for restructuring their action priorities
so as to eliminate your liquidation
from their immediate agenda.
They said that?
That was the gist of it.
What's it mean in English?
Well, it means that they don't think
you're really important enough
for it to be worth assassinating you.
Oh!
— I don't agree, of course.
— You mean...?
What?
— They should assassinate me?
— No, no, no!
— I'm not important enough?
— No, no...
I mean you are important enough,
but they shouldn't assassinate you anyway.
That's marvellous. Not that I was ever worried.

🎬 [KNOCK]

Mr Fowler's waiting.
Yes, bring him in.
Have we still got that petition?
If so, show Mr Fowler.
— The petition? But you said...
— Yes, I did, but bring it in.
— Antennae, Bernard.
— Yes! Yes, indeed.
— The petition you were pleased...?
— That's right.
God!
— The paper must have an answer.
— Of course.
I want you to know
I welcome this petition warmly!
It's not just the sort of thing
you can sweep under the carpet.
As for death lists, well, Ministers are dispensable,
but freedom is indivisible, right, Humphrey?
Yes, Minister.
Humphrey, what are you havering about?
I'm simply saying we can't take
the Minister's approval for granted.
The Italian government
have offered a massive contract
to manufacture propanol
at our Merseyside plant,
which means saving a plant
we were going to have to close,
saving jobs, earning export royalties.
— He has to give us the go-ahead.
— But if the Minister thinks...
Ministers don't think!
Don't talk to me about Ministers.
I've been chairman of British
Chemical Corporation for ten years,
and in that time dealt
with nineteen different Ministers.
They've usually not had time to see me,
because they're too busy bribing
Trade Union leaders not to strike.
— They've never bribed anybody.
— Oh, no?
"Have a quango, Tom;
a knighthood, Dick; a peerage, Harry."
— But the Minister's worried...
— Of course he's worried!
If I'd never done anything to worry
those vote-grabbing baby-kissing jellies,
we'd have gone down the tube years ago!
— But propanol contains metadioxin.
— So what?
Dioxin was released at Seveso.
It can damage the foetus.
That's dioxin, for Christ's sake!
Metadioxin is an inert compound.
It's been given a clean bill
of health by Washington.
The Henderson Committee,
which you set up, will give it the OK, too.
I know, Wally, but the name
could be politically sensitive.
But I've taken metadioxin out of the proposal.
— I call it propanol.
— Very wise of you.
— You told me to.
— Very wise of me!
But the Minister may raise
no objections, it just needs tact.
Fine. In that case, there's no problem.
I'll have a tactful word with Hacker
and persuade the blancmange myself.
Don't take this amiss, Wally,
but I might just be able to manage
without your unique... brand of tact.
— This is wonderful news, Humphrey.
— Yes, Minister.
We turn a run-down plant from
loss-maker into a profitable unit,
the largest manufacturer of propanol in Europe.
— Yes, Minister.
— Equipment made in UK factories.
Income for the local authorities,
foreign exchange from exports.
— Too good to be true!
— It is true.
Good old propanol... What is propanol, actually?
It used to be made with dioxin
until the Seveso explosion,
then they developed a safe compound,
metadioxin.
The Italian factory is sealed off
so they've asked the BCC to make it.
— An ill wind.
— Quite so.
— But this stuff is perfectly safe?
— Perfectly.
Weak Ministers might have doubts
over the similarity of the names,
but no one with any backbone would
be deflected from such a beneficial project
on such a useless pretext.
I know just the sort of Minister
you mean. Political jellyfish.
Terrified of taking any decision.
After all, every decision
upsets someone, doesn't it?
Good government is doing
what's right, not just what's popular.
— Absolutely, Minister.
— But this will be popular?
— Very popular.
— Humphrey, I want to be sure.
You not asking me to make
a courageous decision, are you?
Of course not, Minister.
Good, good. Should I take it to Cabinet?
— I think the less said, the better.
— Why?
Although metadioxin is totally harmless,
the name may cause anxiety in ignorant minds.
Humphrey, you're talking
about my Cabinet colleagues.
I was referring to the Friends of the Earth.

🎬 [PHONE RINGS]

Yes? Joan Littler has arrived,
MP for Liverpool South West.
Know what she wants?
She's the Prime Minister's PPS,
and the new plant is in her constituency.
— Show her in. If you'll excuse us?
— The PM's PPS? I think I'll stay.
Joan Littler,
member for Liverpool South West.
— Do you know Humphrey Appleby?
— Delighted to meet you.
Do take a seat.
— Thank you, Bernard.
— Bernard...
Now, what can I do for you?
Jim, what's the British Chemical
Corporation up to in my constituency?
They'll be announcing a very
exciting project, with new jobs.
Yes... but there's some
very worrying rumours.
— Such as?
— Rumours of dangerous chemicals.
All chemicals are dangerous...
The Minister means the rumours
are unfounded, no cause for alarm.
Can I have your assurance
there'll be a full public enquiry?
Not a bad idea...
The Minister was about to say
there's no need for an enquiry.
— A report will be issued shortly.
— I came here to talk to Jim.
— You are talking to him.
— But he's not answering, you are!
— The Minister and I are of one mind.
— Whose? Yours?
I've heard this factory made
the chemical that poisoned Seveso!
— That's not true.
— Isn't it?
The chemical in Seveso was dioxin.
This is metadioxin.
— That's virtually the same thing.
— Just a similar name.
It's the same name with "meta"
stuck on the front.
— That makes all the difference.
— Why? What does "meta" mean?
— What does "meta" mean, Humphrey?
— "With", "after" or "beyond".
From the Greek, of course.
"After" dioxin or "beyond" dioxin.
If it's in the accusative,
it's "beyond or after",
with the genitive it's "with",
as in Latin, as you no doubt recall.
The ablative is used for words
needing "with" to precede them.
But of course, there isn't an ablative in Greek.
— Well done, Bernard.
— Thank you.
— You see?
— Not exactly, no.
— I thought that was perfectly plain.
— What I insist on knowing
is what is the actual difference
between dioxin and metadioxin.
Metadioxin is an inert compound of dioxin.
I think I follow that, Humphrey,
but could you explain it a little more clearly?
— In what sense, Minister?
— What does "inert" mean?
It means it's not...
...ert.
Wouldn't "ert" a fly.
— What did you say, Bernard?
— Nothing, Minister.
— What does that mean in practical terms?
— You mean chemically?
— Yes, chemically.
— What does it mean chemically?
I can't explain it in layman's language...
— Do you know any chemistry?
— Of course not, Minister.
I was in the scholarship form.
Classics.
— And what's a compound?
— Don't you know any chemistry?
No. Do you?
— We ought to, oughtn't we?
— A compound is a...
You know what compound interest is?
Yes, well, a jolly good thing.
That's the sort of thing a compound is.
That's it, then.
To sum up, I think we're all
of the same mind, broadly speaking.
We're ready to go ahead.
I've said no such thing!
The only difference is in the name,
dioxin and metadioxin, like... Littler and Hitler.
Not that you're like Hitler
because your name's similar!
— That's not the point.
— What is the point?
The point is this factory is in my constituency!
It'll be good for the constituency,
more jobs, more money.
The only people we'll offend
are a few environmentalists.
At most, it won't cost us more than 100 votes.
My majority is 91.
Not to mention the three marginal
constituencies bordering mine!
Could I intervene just once more?
The case for the BCC manufacturing
propanol is overwhelming.
Overwhelming.
Great jobs, increased income
and secure, profitable export orders.
— Export orders.
— Furthermore...
the drug has been declared safe by Washington,
— Washington.
— We're preparing a report, too.
The Minister is confident
that this scheme is to the advantage
of your constituency and the country.
If it proves not to be safe,
I won't allow its manufacture here.
But if the report says it is safe,
that'd be absurd, wouldn't it?
I'm not satisfied with that, Jim.
Remember that the party made you an MP,
and you can't be a Minister
if your party loses the next election.
You still don't look happy, Minister.
Suppose the report isn't as conclusive as you say.
— Oughtn't I to meet this Henderson?
— No need.
He's a brilliant Cambridge
biochemist, chosen with some care.
Suppose he produces a cautious,
wait-and-see report?
We don't publish it.
We use the American report instead.
Fine!
— You mean we suppress it?
— No, we just don't publish it.
— What's the difference?
— All the difference in the world!
Suppression is the instrument of dictatorships.
We don't talk of that sort of thing
in a free country.
We take a democratic decision not to publish.
Fine. What am I to say
to the press and parliament?
"We hoped the report would say
it was a wise decision."
"But we've cocked it up so we'll
pretend the report doesn't exist."
— Very droll.
— What would I say?
There's a Government procedure for suppress...
...deciding not to publish reports.
— Really?
You simply discredit them.
Good heavens!
How?
Stage One, give your reasons
in terms of the public interest.
— Hint at security considerations...
— Mind if I make a note?
This could be useful for discrediting
some of the party's idiotic research documents.
The report could put pressure on
Government and be misinterpreted.
Anything could be misinterpreted.
The Sermon on the Mount could be!
Indeed, it could be argued the Sermon
should not have been published.
A most irresponsible document.
All that stuff about the meek inheriting the earth
could do irreparable damage
to the defence budget.
I suppose you're right. What else?
Say it's better to wait for a more
detailed study over longer time.
— Suppose there isn't one?
— Commission one.
Gives you even more time to play with.
— All this is Stage One?
— Yes. In Stage Two...
discredit the evidence you're not publishing.
— How, if you're not publishing it?
— It's easier if it's not published.
Do it by press leaks, of course,
not directly.
Say it leaves important questions unanswered,
the evidence is inconclusive,
the figures are open to other interpretations,
that certain findings are contradictory,
and that some of the main
conclusions have been questioned.
— Suppose they haven't?
— Then question them!
Then they have!
But you'd have to go through it
with a fine-toothed comb.
No, no, no. You'd say all these
things without reading it.
There's always some questions unanswered.
— Such as?
— The ones that weren't asked.
— That's Stage Two?
— Yes. In Stage Three...
you undermine recommendations.
"Not a basis for long-term decisions."
"Not sufficient information
on which to base a valid assessment."
"Not really any need for
a fundamental rethink of policies."
"Broadly speaking,
endorses current practice." It's easy.
— That works?
— Nearly always.
— Suppose it doesn't?
— Move on to Stage Four.
— Stage Four?
— Discredit the man who produced the report.
Off the record.
Say that he's harbouring a grudge
against the Government
or, better still, that he used to be
a consultant to a multi-national company.
— Supposing he wasn't?
— Then he's hoping to be.
Everybody's hoping
to be a consultant to a multi-national.
Or he's trying for a knighthood
or vice-chancellorship.
There are endless possibilities.
Excuse me.
The press officer rang to say
there's an item on the news.
Yes, yes. Why wasn't I told?
The BCC aren't obliged to clear it with us.
... a row has blown up on Merseyside
about a plan for the BCC
to manufacture propanol
under licence for the Italian government.
Apparently, propanol contains metadioxin,
which the BCC claims
to be completely harmless.
It is a compound of dioxin,
the chemical released
after an explosion at Seveso in July 1976,
spreading poisonous dust
over a 4-mile radius.
0n Merseyside, protesters voiced
their opposition to the BCC scheme
outside the factory gates.

(CR0WD SH0UTING AND JEERING)
I'll tell you what we'll do.
Sir Wally can take his poison
chemicals somewhere elsel
I've a daughter expecting a baby,
and my grandchild's not gonna be
deformed for them bloody Eyeties' sakel
If the Government cared about people,
they'd never allow itl
The BCC said a report
on the safety of propanol
was due to be published shortly
by the Department of Administrative Affairs.
And now abroad again...
— This metadioxin is dynamite.
— It's totally harmless.
Only chemically, not politically.
— It can't hurt anyone.
— It could finish me off!
Yes? Minister, Number 10 on the phone.
The political office - the PM's just seen the news.
Hello, Jim here!
Yes, I just saw that, too.
We don't need to be too worried
about a little local difficulty.
Not in view of the jobs and exports...
No, not many jobs.
Ninety, I think.
Yes, but...
You do, do you?
Yes, well...
I was coming round to that viewpoint myself.
Humphrey...
— Something just struck me.
— I noticed.
There are arguments against this scheme.
— Minister, you've already agreed...
— It could lead to a loss of...
...public confidence.
— You mean votes?
Votes? No, no. It's not the votes
that are a consideration at all.
But you see, it's the public will.
This is a democracy...
— and the people don't like it.
— The people are ignorant and misguided.
It was the people who elected me!
In a week, the whole thing will have blown over,
and in a year's time,
we'll have a safe and successful factory.
A week's a long time in politics.
A year's a short time in Government.
You're in Government, I'm in politics
and the PM is not pleased.
— With the greatest respect...
— Going to insult me again?
You're putting party before country.
Can't you think of a new clich�?
Minister, a new clich� could be said
to be a contradiction in terms.
Humphrey, you lead a sheltered life.
I intend to survive and I'm not crossing the PM.
Why must you be so concerned
with climbing the greasy pole?
The greasy pole is important. I have to climb it.
Why?
'Cause it's there!
The editor of the Times, please.
Thank you, Bernard.
How come the Times knows
about the report before I do?
— There's been a leak.
— I know that!
It was "Confidential". I only got a draft last night.
— At least it wasn't "Restricted".
— Why?
"Restricted" means
it was in the papers yesterday.
"Confidential" means it won't be
in the papers till today.
Who leaked this? Humphrey?
— I'm sure he didn't, Minister.
— Are you?
— He probably didn't.
— No?
— It might have been someone else.
— These leaks are a disgrace!
— People think it's the politicians.
— It has been known.
In my opinion, we're far more
leaked against than leaking.
"Political cowardice to reject
the BCC proposal... craven expediency."
"Hacker has no choice."
Humphrey thinks he's got me committed!
It's an unofficial leak of a draft report.
You're committed to nothing.
Does the report give you a way out?
Sir Wally McFarlane is waiting to see you.
All right. But he's wasting his time.
— Come in, please, Sir Wally.
— Thank you. Morning.
— Morning.
— May I join you, Minister?
— If you like. Do sit down.
— Thank you, Jim.
— Now...
— Thank you, Bernard.
Sorry about that.
I see from the press the Henderson
Report comes clearly on our side.
— I've seen that, too.
— That committee leaks like a sieve.
So there's no real case for refusing
permission for the new plant.
— I'm not sure yet.
— Now look, Jim...
We've been working on this
for two years, it's very important.
I'm the chairman, and I tell you
as a chemist, metadioxin is safe.
You experts always think you're right.
The more inexpert you are,
the more likely you are to be right?
Ministers are not experts.
They're chosen because they know nothing.
You admit that?
Nothing about technical details.
Ministers must take a broader view,
that's why I cannot commit yet.
Look, Hacker!
This is the wrong decision and you know it.
It's cowardly and craven!
— I am not cowardly...
— Sit down!
You'll lose a few votes from a few
people in those constituencies?
— It's pathetic!
— It's politics!
Exactly!
I'll be writing to the Secretary
of State for Industry.
I am prepared to resign if you block this one!
How do you feel that went, Minister?
— We'll have to get another chairman.
— Get another?!
Nobody would accept a job like that!
Nobody wants to be chairman
of a nationalised industry! Instant ruin!
They may as well accept the golden
handshake the day they start.
— We'll find someone.
— Some useless American geriatric.
Not necessarily.
How do you expect to find
a decent replacement,
when we forced his predecessor
to resign for taking a sound decision,
which we blocked for political reasons?
— I have no choice.
— A Minister can do what he likes.
It's the people's will.
I am their leader. I must follow them.
My hands are clean.
I thought it was rather difficult
to keep one's hands clean
while climbing the greasy pole.
We must stop Wally making a fuss.
Press conferences accusing me of lack of faith.
— Interviews on Panorama.
— What am I to do?
If I stop the scheme, the Times will
accuse me of political cowardice.
If I let it go ahead, the Mirror
will say I'm murdering unborn babies.
If only the report had any doubt
about the safety of metadioxin.
— Are you sure it doesn't, Minister?
— Not as it stands.
— Henderson's a Cambridge man?
— Yes.
— Which college?
— King's. Why?
Nothing. Just wondered
if it was my old college.
Weren't you at the LSE?
Yes, so I was.
— Have you got his file?
— It's with the report.
— Got a Cambridge telephone...?
— You do realise -
not that you have any such intention -
but it would be most improper to influence
an independent report of this nature?
Most improper! Out of the question.
Just it might be nice to pop down
to have tea with my old friend,
R.A. Crichton, Provost of King's.
Get him on the phone.
Yes, Minister.
Get me King's College, Cambridge.
Who knows? Professor Henderson
might drop in for tea.
That'd be a happy coincidence, wouldn't it?
— Perfectly natural.
— Nothing improper about that.
— How can a coincidence be improper?
— My feeling entirely.

🎬 [PHONE RINGS]

Yes?
Lord Crichton, please.
How's the move
from the Commons to the Lords?
Like moving from animals to vegetables.
— Professor Henderson's here.
— Good to see you.
Come and meet an old friend,
Jim Hacker.
— Jim, this is Professor Henderson.
— Professor Henderson!
I didn't expect to see the Minister.
— What a coincidence!
— Yes, what a coincidence!
— You know each other?
— We haven't met.
— I'm writing a report for him.
— Well, what a coincidence.
— Yes, what a coincidence!
— Extraordinary coincidence.
— You're happy with my report?
— Absolutely. Delighted.
— You must've worked very hard.
— Most of it was done by Washington.
Excuse me, I'll go and help with the tea.
Tell me, have you ever written
a Government report before?
— No.
— Your name will be on it forever.
"Henderson Report".
— It's a kind of immortality.
— I hadn't thought of it like that.
— But if it were to go wrong...
— Go wrong?
If this metadioxin isn't as safe as you say...
your career...
Very courageous!
None of the standard tests show
any evidence of teratogenic toxicity.
— Standard tests? Quite.
— What do you mean?
Well, I was making a few notes
on the train coming down.
I'm not a biochemist, but it would appear
that the US report leaves some
important questions unanswered.
Some of the evidence is inconclusive,
some findings have been questioned,
the figures are open to interpretation,
and different results might come
from a more detailed study.
— Obviously, but...
— But if anything did go wrong,
a delayed effect, the press
would go straight to your report.
And if it turned out that you'd ever done...
...laboratory trials
for a multi-national drug company...
— That was 15 years ago.
— 14.
You know what the press is like.
No smoke without a fire.
It could be a millstone!
The popular press would be merciless,
if anything went wrong:
"Death Agony
of Henderson Report Victims."
Yes...
Yes...!
I don't know what to do!
I can't alter the evidence,
the report says it's a safe drug.
— Quite. I see you have no choice.
— Stop talking shop.
Our Professor of Economics
is dying to talk to you.
You're not worried about this report?
I've done lots of these things.
It's the phrasing of the conclusion,
that's all the press ever read.
Now... how does it end?
"On existing evidence, the committee
can see no reason not to proceed."
Well, it's just a question
of a tidy bit of re-drafting.
"While the committee feel there's no reason
not to proceed on existing evidence,
"it must be emphasised that
metadioxin is a recent compound,
"and it would be irresponsible
to deny, after further research,
"its manufacture might be proved
to be associated with health risks."
Yes, that seems perfectly fair.
Could you just say that again?
Better than that... I'll jot it down for you.
The Minister for Administrative
Affairs, James Hacker,
has announced he'll not give approval
for the BCC to make propanol.
The Henderson Committee,
while generally approving the drug,
said it could not deny that future
research might disclose risks.

🎬 [CROWDS CHEERING]

Mr Hacker made his announcement
today while visiting BCC's factory,
where he was greeted
by an enthusiastic crowd.
And now sport.
Following last night's defeat...
Well, Minister?
Well, Humphrey?
— Do you feel like a hero?
— Indeed I do.
— And Number 10 will be delighted.
— One of the worst decisions ever!
And one of the best political decisions I've made.
What do you think, Bernard?
Well...
bearing everything in mind
and after due consideration...
considering all the implications
and points of view...
well, in other words,
in fact, I am bound to say...
you look awfully good on television, Minister.
Humphrey, can we manage a CBE for Henderson?
Certainly not! He's unreliable
and lacking in judgement.
I can't think why he cast doubt
on his whole report in that final paragraph.
I think he has excellent judgement,
enormous stature and great charm.
I thought you said you'd never met him.
I meant intellectual stature, Humphrey.
And charm?
He writes with charm.
Doesn't he, Bernard?
Oh, yes, Minister.
It's absolutely intolerable.
— Yes, Minister.
— Quite so, Minister.
Each separate department about to order
different word-processing equipment,
and I persuaded them to place
one big central order for everyone -
big enough for UK manufacturers
to invest in systems development.
— Yes, Minister.
— I don't have to tell you.
No, Minister.
Months of negotiation and we were
on the eve of a press announcement:
"Hacker's massive investment
in modern technology."
"Jim's vote of confidence in British industry."
"'Britain can make it,' says Jim."
Quite so.
And now this directive from Brussels
saying all EEC members
must conform to some niggling European
word-processing standards;
that we have to agree
to the plans of committees
at the forthcoming European
Word-Processing Conference in Brussels.
Well, say something!
— Yes, Minister.
— Quite so.
Is that all?
I'm afraid that's the penalty we pay
for pretending we're Europeans.
I fully understand your hostility to Europe.
I'm not like you, Humphrey.
I'm pro-Europe, just anti-Brussels.
I sometimes think
you're anti-Europe and pro-Brussels.
I'm neither pro- nor anti- anything.
I'm merely a humble vessel
for the fruits of your deliberations.
It could be argued that given
the absurdity of the European idea,
that Brussels does its best
to defend the indefensible
— and make the unworkable work.
— That's not true, Humphrey!
Without sounding pompous, we must
avoid narrow national self-interest.
— It doesn't sound pompous...
— Good.
Merely inaccurate.
Listen, humble vessel,
Europe is a community of nations
dedicated towards one goal.
May we share the joke?
Minister, let's look at this objectively.
It's a game played for national interests.
Why did we go into it?
To strengthen the free Western nations.
We went in to screw the French
by splitting them from the Germans.
— Why did the French go in?
— To protect their farmers from competition.
— And the Germans?
— To cleanse themselves of genocide
and apply for re-admission to the human race.
I've never heard such cynicism!
The small nations didn't join for selfish reasons.
Really? Luxembourg is in it for the perks.
The EEC capital,
all that foreign money pouring in.
A sensible central location.
With the administration in Brussels
and the Parliament in Strasbourg?
Minister! It's like having the Commons
in Swindon and the Civil Service in Kettering!
Why do other nations try to get in?
Take the Greeks...
I find it difficult to take the Greeks,
open-minded as I am about foreigners.
They'll want an olive mountain and a retsina lake.
I don't accept this!
I'm sorry. I suppose some
of your best friends are Greeks?

[MINISTER]
Very droll.
The problem isn't internationalism
but too much bureaucracy.
The bureaucracy is a consequence
of the internationalism.
Why else is there an English Commissioner,
a French Director-General below him,
an Italian Chef-du-Division and so on?
— It's like the Tower of Babel.
— I agree.
— Like the United Nations.
— I agree.
If I may interject?
You are in fact in agreement.

[BOTH]
No, we're not.
They say the average Common Market official
has the organising ability of the Italians,
the flexibility of the Germans,
the modesty of the French,
the imagination of the Belgians,
the generosity of the Dutch
and the intelligence of the Irish!
— It's all a gravy train!
— How do you mean?
They live on champagne and caviar.
Chauffer-driven Mercedes, private aeroplanes.
Every official has his snout in the trough,
and most of them their trotters as well!
Oh, I beg to differ. Brussels is full
of hard-working public servants
enduring exhausting travel
and tedious entertainment.
Working their way through smoked salmon,
forcing back all that champagne!
— You're blaming the wrong people.
— What do you mean?
One of your Cabinet colleagues
warned Brussels of your plan for bulk buying,
which is why the directive appeared so quickly.
Cabinet colleagues?
Don't tell me! Bloody Corbett again!
When I think of Corbett, I warm to Judas Iscariot!
Yes, it was the Secretary of State
for Trade and Industry.
Treacherous, disloyal, arrogant,
self-opinionated, publicity-seeking creep!
I'm sorry if that sounds harsh.
Compared to what his Permanent Secretary says,
that's a generous tribute.
— How did he do it?
— Who knows?
The evening paper, Minister.
Whenever Corbett comes near me,
I feel stabbing pains in the back.
Why did you give me this, Bernard?
— Just there.
— Oh, yes.
Good God! Cabinet reshuffle!
"It's rumoured that the PM will
announce important Cabinet changes
"before the end of the present session."
Why didn't I know about this?
How do they know? Is this true?
I'm only a humble civil servant,
I do not move in such exalted circles
as Cabinet Ministers and journalists.
— But is it true?
— Yes.
How do you know?
I mean, it's true that it's rumoured.
A Cabinet reshuffle! I've hardly started
to do the things that I... we...
Perhaps you won't be moved, Minister.
Ah... If I'm not, it means my career
isn't moving forward as it should.
At least it's not moving backwards.
Backwards? You don't mean...? Good God! But I...
It's not... I mean, it's...
I've been doing all right, haven't I?
— We've done all right?
— You've done all right.
— We've done all right?
— Yes, Minister.
I may not be the outstanding success
of this administration, but I'm not a failure.
— You've done all right.
— I've been quite successful.
If Martin were moved to the Treasury,
I could get the Foreign Office!
Perhaps you might.
— You don't sound very certain.
— I'm not.
— What have you heard?
— Nothing, it's why I'm not certain.
— Why does Bob Carver know?
— Perhaps he has the PM's ear.
— He's in the PM's pocket.
— Then the PM must have a large ear.
Right, well... Let's not worry about it any more.
— We'll say no more about it.
— Yes, Minister. I mean, no, Minister.
There's no point worrying about it, is there?
— Nothing to worry about, is there?
— No, Minister.
Shall we attend the Brussels conference?
We should.
But if the PM should move Fred...?
Shall we attend the conference in Brussels?
— What?
— Word-processing.
Ah! Well, does it take place
before or after the reshuffle?
— Who can say?
— Well, no. I've known this happen before.
One day you're out of your office,
the next you're out of office.
This is no time for an idiotic foreign junket!
Minister, you mustn't allow
the reshuffle to prey on your mind.
It's not preying on my mind.
— I'm not thinking any more about it.
— Splendid.
Meet me at 6 o'clock in the House
of shuffles... cards... Commons.
— Good evening, Sir Humphrey.
— Good evening, Major.
Arnold, when will we know about the reshuffle?
A little while yet.
Any news yet about my department?
I'm only Cabinet Secretary,
not political correspondent of the New Standard.
But how does my Minister stand?
I think the PM feels he's done all right.
But there's been an interesting development.
— Mmm?
— Mmm.
Aahh!
What?
Brussels have asked if he'd be available
for the next commissionership, if he wanted it.
After all, he's a good European.
In strict confidence, of course.
Is he being gently eased out?
Sir Humphrey, Sir Arnold.
There you are, Bernard.
Right. Would you like a coffee, Bernard?
— Thank you.
— Pull up a chair.
Well, Bernard, how do you feel
about having a new Minister?
— You mean, he's...
— No, Sir Humphrey is conjecturing.
Ah, of course, I'd be very sorry.
Er... Why? Wouldn't you?
Of course not!
— But he's getting a grip on the job.
— Exactly!
Ministers with a grip on the job are a nuisance.
— They argue.
— All Ministers argue.
If they have a grip on the job,
there's a real danger they'll be right.
One tells them something is impossible
and they dig out an old paper
in which one had said it was easy -
very tedious.
Once they've gone, one can wipe
the slate clean and start with a new boy.
Wonderful things, reshuffles.
And Prime Ministers like them too.
Fresh, decisive, keeps everyone on the hop.
Only Ministers panic about them.
Wouldn't it be interesting if Ministers were fixed
and Permanent Secretaries were shuffled around.
That, Bernard, would strike
at the very heart of the system
that has made Britain what she is today.
Power goes with permanence.
— Impermanence is impotence.
— Rotation is castration.
It's time they all had a little spin.
Yes, but surely in a democracy...
Thank you, Bernard, that'll be all.
— Yes, but I've only...
— Thank you, Bernard.
Yes, thank you, Sir Humphrey.
Good night, Sir Arnold.
If your Minister does take Brussels,
I wouldn't get out the champagne too soon.
— What do you mean?
— There is talk of his possible successor.
Who?
I don't know how to put this, but, well...
...Basil Corbett.
What's the matter, darling? Jim?
— Jim!
— I'm sorry.
— Something wrong?
— No, nothing, really.
Something is.
The papers are full of a reshuffle.
— Are they true?
— I don't know.
— You're in the Cabinet.
— We're the last to find out.
— Can't you ask the PM?
— Of course not.
— Why not?
— Well... I just can't.
— It would look as if I were insecure.
— I see.
I don't know whether it's good
or bad news, whether I'm up or down.
Or round and round.
I don't know whether I'm a success or failure.
— What do you think?
— I think you've done all right.
— Is that good enough?
— I don't know.
— I don't know, is it?
— I don't know.
It's difficult to tell. The PM might think
I've been too successful.
You know, a challenge to the leadership.
You?!
No, not me, but Martin with my support.
If the PM is standing by to repel boarders,
and Martin can't be got rid of safely,
which he can't as Foreign Secretary,
I'm the obvious one for demotion.
— Isolate Martin.
— Where would you be sent?
There's no shortage of useless non-jobs.
Lord President, Lord Privy Seal...
Minister of Sport...
...with special responsibility
for droughts and floods.
Maybe you'll get promotion, darling.
Maybe... Don't forget there's Basil Corbett.
— He's out to get me.
— To get everyone.
He's a smooth-tongued, hard-nosed,
cold-eyed, two-faced creep.
Why's he so successful?
Because he's a smooth-tongued, hard-nosed,
cold-eyed, two-faced creep.
— Apart from that?
— He looks OK on TV.
— So do you!
— Do I?
— Yes!
— Really mean that?
— Yes.
— What a nice thing to say!
I've got to elbow Corbett or he'll elbow me.
Elbows, the most important
weapon in a politician's armoury.
— Other than integrity.
— Integrity?!

🎬 [TELEPHONE RINGS]

Yes?
Who's speaking? Hold on.
It's Gaston Larousse from Brussels.
From Brussels?
Bonsoir, Commissionaire... Commissar...
Si...
That's very interesting.
I shall need a little time to think about it.
I'm very honoured.
Does Numero Dix know
you're talking to me about this?
Number 10.
Downing Street.
I see... Tell you what,
give me your home telephone number.
Yes...
I'll give you a ring very soon.
Thank you very much, goodbye.
What was that?
— I don't know.
— What do you mean?
They want my name put forward
as one of Britain's commissioners for the EEC.
— What does it mean?
— Living in Brussels.
No, I mean, what does it mean?
Number 10 knows, so is it a plot to ease me out?
Is it just a coincidence?
What does it mean? Is it a hint?
Is the PM giving me a face-saving exit?
Or was the post coming up anyway?
It's a great honour... in a way.
— Is it a good job?
— Terrible.
It's curtains as far as British politics is concerned.
It's worse than a peerage.
Absolute failure, total failure.
You're reduced to forming a new party
if ever you want to get back.
What does the job involve?
You're at the heart of that ghastly
Brussels bureaucracy, the gravy train.
50,000 a year salary, 20,000 a year expenses.
Champagne, lobsters, foreign travel, luxury hotel...
...private limousines, private aircraft...
...siestas in the afternoon...
...long weekends at Knocke-le-Zoute...
— We should go over and have a look.
— Why not?
Sometimes we deserve a bit of failure.
Going to be a reshuffle, sir?
Yes, I suppose you saw that in the Standard.
— Yes, sir.
— So did I, actually.
I first heard it a couple of weeks ago, sir.
— Did you?
— Yes, sir.
So did I, really. Where did you hear it?
— All the drivers knew.
— How?
From the PM's driver.
— The Cabinet Secretary's driver.
— Oh, yes.
— What else did they hear?
— Just the usual.
Corbett's in line for promotion,
PM can't overlook him.
Apparently, old Fred -
the Employment Secretary, sorry, sir -
he's going to get kicked upstairs.
— How do they know?
— His driver's been re-assigned.
What's the gossip about me?
Well, nothing really, sir.
— Nothing?
— No.
We don't know what to make of that.
— You'll know, won't you, sir?
— Yes, of course.
Sometimes it's difficult to know about oneself.
You, know, just how successful...
What do your mates say... about...?
They all think you've done all right, sir.
— I'm in a bit of a quandary.
— Can I help, Minister?
It's this reshuffle that's on the cards.
That's very witty, Minister!
I'm sorry, I thought you were making a...
Do please carry on.
To complicate matters, I've been asked
to be an EEC Commissioner.
— Very nice.
— Is it nice, Bernard?
Bernard, tell me, quite frankly...
...as Minister here,
do you think I've done all right?
You've done all right.
Humphrey's blocked me on so many issues.
He's never really been on my side.
To be honest, "all right"
isn't really good enough, is it?
Well, it's... all right.
Have you... er... heard anything...
on the grapevine?
About you?
Nothing really, Minister, no.
Only that the British Commissioner
in Europe sent a telegram
to the FCO and the Cabinet Committee on Europe.
The idea for you to be
a Commissioner came from Brussels,
but it is a Prime Ministerial appointment.
The PM discussed it with the Foreign Secretary
and the Cabinet Secretary
and cleared the way for you to be sounded out.
As it's believed at Number 10
and Number 11 that you might accept,
a colleague has been sounded out
about becoming Minister here.
I'm afraid that's all I know.
No more than that?
Which colleague has been
sounded out to take my place?
Bernard, if I were not to go to Europe...
No, if I did go...
No, if I were not to go to Europe,
would I go up or down?

🎬 [BUZZER]

Time for your meeting
with Sir Humphrey, Minister.
— Yes, fine.
— What's it about?
The visit to the word-processing conference.
The word-processing conference?
Humphrey, you'll be pleased
to hear that I've changed my mind,
I shall be going to Brussels after all.
You're resigning from the Department?!
No, I'm talking about
this word-processing conference.
— I see.
— I would like to see Brussels.
— Why?
— Why not?
Why not, indeed, but why?
— I'm a curious person.
— You certainly are.
I've been a little hasty.
Your arguments on behalf of Brussels
were thoroughly convincing.
Minister, I've been reflecting on your views,
and I find wisdom in your criticism of Brussels.
— You implied it is corrupt and...
— No, no, no.
— Minister, please...
— No, Humphrey.
It is you who have convinced me.
I'm now convinced that
Brussels is full of dedicated men,
all bearing a heavy burden
of travel and entertainment.
They need all that luxury.
The odd drinky!
Caviar and champagne, private planes,
air-conditioned Mercedes?
It oils the diplomatic wheels.
Snouts in the trough.
— That's not an attractive phrase.
— I'm sorry. I can't think where I picked it up!
We'll all go to this conference, agreed?
— Is your change of heart due to my arguments?
— Of course.
It's nothing to do with the rumour
of you being offered a post in Brussels?
That thought is not worthy of you.
There is such a thing as integrity.
Oh, yes, thank you.
Corbett! You can't let someone like Corbett...
(You simply can't let Corbett
loose on the department.)
(It'd be disastrous.
Everything one says to Corbett)
(appears in the Sun the next morning.)
Glad to know you read the Sun.
You must stop it, Arnold, I implore you.
I'm not the Prime Minister.
It is really you who arranges the reshuffles.
No, if there's an appointment the PM is set on,
the Cabinet Secretary must reluctantly acquiesce.
You do keep your hand on the tiller.
If Hacker decides to turn down Brussels,
it would be easier to keep
Corbett away from your department.
This is the trouble, he'll take Brussels.
— Oh.
— Yes, I know.
He says he believes in the European ideal.
Yes, I know, I know.
Politicians get taken in by their own speeches.
This is partly your fault.
You've blocked Hacker time and again.
Only in the interests
of good government, Arnold.
Quite. But what you need is for Hacker
to have a big success in the next few days.
— A big success?
— Yes.
The next few days?
That would give me, give the PM,
a good case for keeping him here.
Then, we might be able
to move Corbett to Employment.
Is Fred definitely going?
Yes, he keeps falling asleep in Cabinet.
I thought they all did.
Yes, but not while they're actually talking.
— Ah, Humphrey! Any news?
— Of what, Minister?
— The Cabinet reshuffle.
— No.
Didn't you have lunch with the Cabinet Secretary?
— Yes.
— What came up?
Nothing as yet!
All I know is the reshuffle
will be announced on Monday.
— Have you any news?
— Of what?
The Commissionship. Are you going to Brussels?
Well...
Speaking with my Parliamentary hat on,
I don't think it would be a good idea.
With my Cabinet hat on, it would be a good idea.
Again, with my party hat on,
there could be arguments on both sides.
Which hat are you talking through now?
— Have you decided about going to Brussels?
— Yes and no.
— What are the pros and cons, Minister?
— I don't know.
I haven't said this before,
but it depends on whether
I've done all right. What do you think?

[BOTH]
You've done all right.
If I've done all right, that's all right,
I shall stay because I'll be all right.
But if I've only done all right,
to stay would be wrong, right?
Minister, to be on the safe side,
you need a big success.
— Yes.
— A triumph, in fact.
You need some personal publicity
for some great political achievement.
— What have you in mind?
— I'm trying to think of something.
Thank you, that's a great help.
What's the purpose?
Something did come up at lunch.
Sir Arnold feels that with this triumph,
the PM couldn't move you downwards,
and Bernard and I might have the good
fortune of you staying on with us.
So there's no chance of moving up?
Ooh...
Sadly, Minister, alas.
— One must be a realist.
— Oh, well.
That's it, it's got to be Brussels.
No, wait a minute. I've got an idea.
Supposing you ignore the EEC.
Publish your own plans for
word-processing machines...
...with big orders for
British manufacturers...
...starting immediately. Tomorrow.
Certainly before Monday.
Involving more jobs, more investment.
— More export orders.
— More votes.
Yes, when the time comes.
— We can't defy an EEC directive.
— It isn't a directive.
It hasn't been ratified, it's merely a request.
We can't stab our partners
in the back and spit in their face.
You can't stab anyone in the back
while spitting in their face.
On the other hand, defying Brussels would be...
Very popular!
And prove I had elbows.
What?
Elbows, elbows!
— But...
— But what?
I'd have to give up all that...
— Trough.
— Right.
When it comes down to it,
one's own country must come first.
How true.
And, although, strictly,
this isn't a Government matter,
I, personally,
would be deeply sorry to lose you.
Really, Humphrey, is that true?
Yes, I mean that, Minister, most sincerely.
I suppose we have got fond of one another.
— In a way.
— In a way, yes.
Like a terrorist and his hostage.
Which is the terrorist?

[BOTH]
He is!
Right, OK, Bernard, that's the decision.
Inform the press!
Tell me, Humphrey, who would have got
my position if I'd gone to Brussels?
I don't know...
Didn't you tell me it was Basil Corbett?
Basil Corbett?!
I see, Basil Corbett.
Yes, Minister.
He's still with the Press Officer, Sir Humphrey.
Would you like a coffee?
If the Minister is with the Press Officer,
we've probably got time for a six-course lunch.
— Morning, Humphrey.
— Desmond!
He's got somebody with him,
but he'll only be a moment.
— Did you sound him out about...?
— Yes, but it doesn't look hopeful.
All my bank wants is to put six
little storeys on the new office block.
— Read the Financial Times today?
— Never do!
You're a banker,
surely you read the Financial Times?
Can't understand it. Full of economic theory.
— Why do you buy it?
— It's part of the uniform.
Took me 30 years
to understand Keynes' economics.
I'd just cottoned on when everyone
got hooked on monetarist ideas,
you know, "I Want To Be Free",
by Milton Shulman.
— Milton Friedman?
— Why are they all called Milton?
I've only got as far as Milton Keynes.
Maynard Keynes?
I'm sure there's a Milton Keynes.
Yes, there is, it's...
Sit down.
You didn't read about the Minister's speech
to the Architectural Association last night,
attacking skyscraper office blocks?
Ours isn't a skyscraper.
— How many storeys?
— 38.
44 with the extra six we're asking for.
He was talking about
the maximum tolerable height being eight.
Surely you can talk him out of it?
Work him upwards? 8, 12, 18...
That's your job - talking him out of things.
Don't forget, there's a promise
to prevent any more high-rise buildings
in the environment section of the manifesto.
— Does that scupper it?
— Not necessarily.
There's an implicit pact offered
to every Minister by his senior officials.
If the Minister implements
the opposite policy to the one he's pledged to,
which, once in office, he will see is incorrect,
we'll help him to pretend
he's following his manifesto.
— That's a very reasonable offer.
— It sounds reasonable.
Unfortunately, among the many
extraordinary qualities politicians possess,
reasonableness isn't the first that springs to mind.
Not when one contemplates the average Minister.
And our Minister is very average.
But we need those extra floors.
And if you're joining the board when you retire,
it'll be tricky if there's no office to put you in.
Entertaining your visitors
in a Portakabin in the car park?
I'm not saying you won't get
permission, just not today. Be patient.
Surely if a Minister's made a decision, that's it?
— What gave you that idea?
— Surely a decision's a decision?
Only if it's the decision you want.
If not, it's just a temporary setback.
Ministers are like small children:
They want something desperately
and next day forget they asked for it.
— He is a Minister of the Crown.
— You know why he's called that?
He's always talking off the top of his head...
or through the back of it!
— You won't accept his decision?
— No, no, no.
I start by accepting it
and supporting it enthusiastically,
then I tell him to leave it to me.

[SIR DESMOND]
Humphrey, the architect fellow.
Morning, Crawford.
The Minister won't keep a moment.
So, what's going to happen?
I'll have a minute with him first,
but don't expect too much this morning.
Think of it as a child's tantrum
over a rice pudding.
Won't touch it today
and yet wants two helpings tomorrow.
Ah, rice pudding... good.
I always liked rice pudding.
Minister, it's really excellent.
"Hacker speaks out against tower blocks."
"Minister's courageous stand on high buildings."
I sound like a steeplejack.
What about the popular press?
How do I get into the mass circulation dailies?
— What about a photograph?
— The papers like a photo of a pretty girl.
I don't quite qualify on that score.
Judge a beauty contest -
a photo of you kissing the winner.
If my picture's in the papers,
people should look at me, not some pretty girl.
Otherwise, something with
cuddly animals or small children,
like this afternoon's visit to the city farm.
Is everything laid on - Mail, Mirror, Express?
— And the Sun, Today and Nationwide.
— Nationwide?
— Will I be on telly?
— With any luck.
— Well done!
— You are a Minister of the Crown, sir.
There's some baby donkeys
laid on to be photographed with.
— Donkeys?
— Yes, sir.
The Sun specifically asked if you could
be photographed amongst the donkeys.
What do you think, Bernard?
Even if the Sun has no ulterior motive,
it'll be a gift for Private Eye.
You with a crowd of other donkeys.
That's what they would say.
Or a meeting of the Inner Cabinet.
What are you here for, Bernard?
— Sir Humphrey's here.
— Very well.
There's also some little pigs.
I don't think that's a great improvement.
Snouts in the trough jokes -
pull yourself together!
I will consent to be photographed
with a lamb, that's all.
— Ah, Humphrey.
— Good morning.
Sir Desmond Glazebrook is outside.
Glazebrook? That old fool
who makes anti-Government speeches?
Yes, and you appointed him chairman
of the co-partnership commission.
What's he want?
He wants to talk about his forthcoming application
to put more storeys on his bank's office block.
That's just the thing we must stop, Humphrey.
Somebody has to speak out
about the environment,
take a stand on high buildings.
That would make a good press photograph.

[SIR HUMPHREY]
Thank you, Bernard.
It's up to you, but he does have a good case.
Have you read the background papers?
Yes, of course. Remind me.
The bank points out that
there are already several tower blocks nearby,
and it is the international division
of the bank, expanding rapidly.
It needs a central location.
It would bring in revenue for the city.
Typical! Money, money, money.
What about beauty, Humphrey?
Indeed, Minister, beauty.
Make a note of that, Bernard.
What about our children? And their children?
Exactly, Minister, "Children's children", Bernard.
Who are you serving? God or Mammon?
I'm serving you, Minister.
In that case, Humphrey, show Sir Desmond in.
Glazebrook! I'll give him high-rise buildings...
Sir Desmond, how nice to see you!
What can I do for you?
It's these extra storeys, six of them.
We'll make a formal application later,
but any guidance you can give us...?
I warn you that I have
misgivings about tower blocks.
This is how we make profits.
Six extra storeys and we clean up.
Without them,
we'll only make a measly 28% on the project.
— It's just profits, is it?
— Not "Just profits", it's profits!
— Don't you think of anything but money?
— No, why?
— What about beauty?
— It's a building, not an oil painting.
— And the environment?
— We'll make sure it's part of the environment.
It's bound to be, once it's there.
— I'm sorry, Sir Desmond...
— There's one thing, Minister.
As you know, similar permission
was given to Chartered of New York,
so to refuse a British bank...
Exactly! So it's all right?
Er... well... no. No, it isn't.
— Why not, damn it?
— It-it-it's not necessarily...
The Minister is concerned that another
tall building will clutter the skyline.
That's right, it would clutter the skyline.
He's also worried that more workers
in the area would strain the transport system.
I'm worried about public transport.
Furthermore,
he points out that it will overshadow
the playground of the St Joseph's Primary School.
It would overlook private gardens,
which would be an intrusion of privacy.
Privacy! Pollution!
Furthermore, the Minister points out,
most astutely, if I may say,
that the bank owns a vacant site close by
which would accommodate your expansion needs.
— Where?
— There.
That's the river, isn't it?
The Minister was referring to this site.
— Is that ours?
— It is, Sir Desmond.
— What's it for?
— It's scheduled for phase three.
That's scheduled for phase three.
Anyway, it's 400 yards away.
Difficult for the board
to walk 400 yards to lunch...
...and impossible to walk back afterwards.
Put in your formal application by all means,
but that will be my decision.
Minister, suppose we designed
a different rice pudding?
— What?
— Rice pudding?
— Bankers' jargon for high-rise buildings.
Is it?
Bernard, show Sir Desmond out.
Bye, Sir Desmond.
Oh, yes. Right.
Thank you, your reminders were very helpful.
— A pleasure.
— Real teamwork, what?
— Especially as Glazebrook is your chum.
— We're very old friends.
But it is as naught compared
to a civil servant's duty to his Minister.
— Humphrey, do you mean that?
— Of course, Minister!
— How very nice.
— Thank you.
— It's after half past.
— I've got to dash.
— Urgent appointment?
— Very urgent.
— Cabinet committee?
— That sort of thing.
Could you sign this? It's extremely urgent.
Do I have to? I'm late already.
It's an administrative order
to formalise Government powers
for the utilisation of unused local authority land
until development commences,
then it reverts to the authority.
Do I have to sign now?
Why hasn't it been before the House?
If it were a statutory instrument,
it would have to go before the House,
but it's an administrative order,
under section seven of the Environment Act,
which is an enabling section,
empowering the Minister to make regulations
regarding unused local authority land
as necessary from time to time
within the framework of the Act,
as I'm sure you recollect.
Why doesn't it go before the House?
If it were a statutory instrument,
it would have to go before the House,
but because it is an administrative order
under section seven of the...
All right, Humphrey, I have signed it!
Why was that so urgent?
— It wasn't.
— But you said it was.
It wasn't urgent, but it was important.
Any document transferring decision-making
power from Ministers to us is important.
— Why?
— Oh, Bernard...!
Don't be obtuse, please.
It helps take Government out of politics.
It's Britain's only chance of survival.
Couldn't it have waited
until he wasn't in a hurry?
When we want Ministers to sign something
without asking questions,
we wait until they're in a hurry
and their concentration is weakest.
That's why we keep them on the go.
Bernard, where was the Minister
rushing off to so secretively?
A school children's city farm in Tower Hamlets.
My God!
The things that man will do for publicity.
Is he going as a visitor or as an exhibit?
Very droll, Sir Humphrey.
What?
Mrs Philips? I'm Bill Pritchard,
the Minister's Press Officer.
This is Mrs Philips, the warden of the park.
How do you do?
BBC TV. We didn't get your arrival,
could we have it again?
— Sorry?
— Could you arrive again?
How can he arrive again? He's already here.
— For the cameras.
— Do you mind?
Mind what?
Let's see you arriving.
Does this often happen?
Turn over... Action!
Wave, everybody!
— Welcome, Minister.
— It's a great pleasure.
I'm glad you've come. We tried
other celebrities but nobody could come.
— Cut.
— What?
— Cut, cut, cut!
— Cut.
— We'll cut that out, right?
— Yes, but...
Not but, cut!
May I introduce you to His Worship, the Mayor?
Licence fees are coming up again.
Now, tell me all about this.
This is a piglet.
No, tell me about this city farm.
There are over 50 city farms
built in urban wasteland to give
children who seldom see the countryside
a chance to understand
livestock and food production.
What a wonderful idea!
And this is your first anniversary?
— Yes.
— Congratulations.
Could we have a shot congratulating
Mrs Philips for the television?
Certainly, by all means.
Everyone's a ham! Sorry.
So this is your first anniversary here? Good.
Congratulations. Well done.
Jolly good show. Very good.
Got enough now?
If we may hurry you,
make your speech first, and then meet the staff.
I'd like to do the interview with some of those.
— Staff?
— No, the children and animals.
Is this working?
— Got my speech?
— I gave it to you.
No, you've got it.
It gives me pleasure
to welcome Mr James Hacker,
the Minister for Administrative Affairs,
who has found time in his busy schedule
to be with us today
to celebrate our first anniversary.
Thank you.
Thank you. It's a great pleasure
to be here with you all today.
You know, things are changing fast.
We live in a world of change.
The silicon chip is changing our lives.
Quality of life is becoming
more and more important.
Environment, conservation, problems
of pollution, the future of our children,
and our children's children.
These are today's issues.
There is, quite rightly, increasing
concern about high-rise buildings.
I'm happy to reassure you,
members of the Architectural Association...
I'm so sorry.
It's yesterday's speech.
It's the one I have, look in your pocket.
So sorry!
I made a speech yesterday and...
It's a great pleasure
to be here at the city farm today.
You know, things are changing fast.
We live in a world of change.
The silicon chip... is changing our lives.

[MUMBLES]
Quality of life is more important...

[MUMBLES]
Pollution...
future of our children's children...
These are the issues... The city farm movement
is a welcome and important addition
to the way of life for children in cities.
We feel they play an vital part in
children's educational and social life.
We shall do all we can
to help this movement flourish.
Happy birthday.
Sue Lawley's arrived,
can we do the interview now?
Yes, set it up with the most
attractive children and animals.
Thank you for saying that, Minister.
Can we really rely on your support?
Of course you can.
Our lease is running out
and we have to get it extended.
I can't really influence it, but I'll try
to help this movement to flourish.
Would you do the interview now?
This is Sue Lawley of Nationwide.
Sue Lawley, what a great pleasure.
I do believe I'm probably your greatest fan!
Sorry to butt in, but could the children
and staff get autographs?
Autographs? Certainly.
Come on, that's enough.
What did you want to say?
I'll ask some questions of the warden
and then come to you for comments.
— Where would you like us to be?
— Here.
— Perhaps with animals and children?
— Yes, splendid!
Put this sweet little girl on your knee, Mr Hacker.
All right, let's get on with it.
Turn over! We're running, Sue.
Warden, I understand the lease
of this wonderful city farm will run out.
Yes, we've been worried about this.
But I've just had a word with Mr Hacker,
and he has indicated that he will ensure
that this farm can carry on.
Minister, how will you ensure
this farm keeps running?
Er... well... you see... Sue...
The fact is, and let me make this clear...
Quality of life is becoming more important,
the environment, conservation,
problems of pollution...
The future of our children...
and our children's children.
These are today's issues.
Minister, thank you.
I saw your chap on the television
last night cuddling a rabbit.
St Francis of Tower Hamlets.
What was it in aid of?
After the rodent vote, I imagine.
Quite a good idea, those city farms.
Are you still worried
about parking at Tower House?
Desperately! It's the major blockage
to recruiting Inland Revenue inspectors.
There's a 1�/2 acre local authority site nearby
with the lease running out.
— But we haven't the authority.
— You have now.
— You mean an order under Section 7?!
— Signed yesterday.
Humphrey! How did you manage it?
— What's the site used for now?
— Nothing of any significance.
A city farm for school children.
Like the one St Francis was visiting?
Not the one?
I've always said those things are a bad idea.
Unhygienic and a danger to public health.
It might be good to move quickly,
before the lease were renewed.
Surely. Won't it put your Minister in a spot?
— I'm sure I'll find him a way out.
— I'm sure you will. Coffee?
No, thanks, I must be getting back to Assisi.
— Thank you for lunch.
— Not at all.
— Enjoy your trip.
— Bless you.
Desmond?
It's you, Humphrey.
I think I know how
to get the Minister to eat his rice pudding.
Evening paper, Minister.
— Centre page.
— I say!
Double-page spread, what about that!
"The St Francis of Tower Hamlets."
There's a picture of me with ducks.
Another with a small girl.
A black... ethnic... multi... you know,
one of... What good publicity!
Are there any more city farms to visit?
Manchester, Birmingham, Glasgow.
The marginal, I mean,
the special development areas.
Bernard, how about this double-page spread?
Top of the Mirror, Nationwide last night.
You're very quiet, what's the matter?
Mrs Philips, Minister, the warden
of the city farm you visited yesterday.
Is she pleased with the publicity?
— She doesn't seem pleased.
— Why not?
— The farm's being closed.
— Closed?!
It's being turned into a car park
for Inland Revenue inspectors.
My God, what will they say about this?
"Children and animals evicted by taxman."
"Minister goes back on TV pledge."
Heavens! This must be stopped. Do something!
— What idiot authorised that?
— You did.
What?
The order you signed yesterday giving
Government power over local authority land.
— Section 7, subsection 3.
— Get Humphrey.
He's on his way
and Mrs Philips is in the private office.
She's that last person I want to see.
This is the greatest disaster this century.
There were two world wars.
Fighting on the beaches is one thing,
evicting animals and children
for tax inspectors' cars is another.
Ah, Humphrey!
Minister, I saw you on television last night.
What a treat!
Never mind that,
what about the city farm being closed?
— The Treasury...
— It's got to be stopped!
Unfortunately, it's a Treasury decision
and beyond our jurisdiction.
— I shall revoke the order.
— That is impossible. Or difficult.
Or inadvisable.
Or requires legislation. One of those.
Anyway, it could not invalidate an action
taken while the order was in force.
I don't care if it's the Queen and the Pope...
— Judas!
— I say, look here.
— You promised to support us!
— I'm sorry...
You must see that our lease is renewed.
My dear lady, it's not in the Minister's p...
Mr Hacker, you have given your word.
Are you going to keep it?
I shall leave no stone... every avenue...
everything that is humanly possible...
— You mean, no.
— No.
Yes, I mean no. I mean yes. Definitely not. No.
Yes, I mean, no.
Very well. Don't say I haven't warned you.
My husband is Deputy
Features Editor of the Express.
Tomorrow morning your name will be manure.
You will be roasted alive by the national press.
It falls to few people to be,
in the space of 24 hours,
both St Francis and St Joan.
Humphrey, something must be done
to stop this farm closing.
Otherwise, we shall look a complete... [BUZZER]
— Yes? Sir Desmond Glazebrook is outside.
— What does he want?
— I can't imagine.
— Send him in!
It's Open Day at the Department!
Minister, I was passing and I've had an idea.
If you gave us permission
for an extra nine storeys...
You asked for six!
If you gave us nine extra storeys,
we could postpone phase three
for seven years, leaving this site vacant.
I was reading this morning in the Financial Times
about your visit to the city farm,
a jolly good wheeze.
Our phase three site is only 200 yards away,
so you could use it to extend the farm,
or if they had to move, it's a bit larger.
We thought of calling it
"The James Hacker Cuddly Animal Sanctuary."
Well, "Animal Sanctuary", anyway.
Nine storeys isn't very much, is it?
"James Hacker Animal Sanctuary."
Government has to be awfully careful
about throttling small businesses.
The bank isn't actually a small business.
It would be if we throttled it, Bernard.
After all, what is another tower block
where there are so many?

[SIR HUMPHREY]
Yes, indeed, Minister.
I shall be forced to reconsider my decision.
We'll be able to give Sir Desmond his six storeys...
Nine.
Nine storeys. Let's make a press announcement.
To the James Hacker Animal Sanctuary!
— You were worried about London Transport.
— They will be glad of the extra fares.
As for the school...
They might welcome the shade.
In the hot weather, certainly.
— And privacy?
— There are two sides to privacy.
People might enjoy looking
at what goes on in those offices.
Extraordinary things go on in offices, don't they?
Yes, Minister.
You'll let me have your redraft
on establishment levels by Thursday?
You need it that early?
I don't need it that early,
but the Minister has to read it
before facing the select committee.
What makes it harder, he has to remember it.
Harder still, he has to understand it.
Incidentally, did you write
the Minister's Washington speech?
Yes, Sir Humphrey.
— Splendid. Well done.
— Thank you, Sir Humphrey.
The Minister's in now.
Good. Right, thank you all.
Have you enjoyed having
your Minister away for a week?
Not very much. Makes things very difficult.
Ah, Bernard!
A Minister's absence is a godsend!
You can do the job properly for once.
No silly questions, no bright ideas,
no fussing about the papers.
I think our Minister doesn't believe he exists
unless he's in the papers.
I'll bet the first thing he says is,
"Any reports on my Washington speech?"
— How much?
— A pound.
Done. He won't because he's already asked!
In the car on the way back from Heathrow.
You're learning, Bernard. Sit down.
See why a Minister's absence is a good thing?
— Yes, but so much work piles up.
— There we are.
With a couple of days' briefing
before he goes and debriefing after,
he's out of our hair for a fortnight.
If he complains of being uninformed,
say it came up while he was away.
Hence so many summit conferences?
That's the only way the country works!
Concentrate all the power
at Number 10 then send the PM away
to EEC summits, NATO summits,
Commonwealth summits, anywhere!
Then the Cabinet Secretary
can run the country properly.
We ought to see him now.
What do you think of the Washington speech?
"British administration as a model
of loyalty and efficiency.
"A ruthless war on waste,
cutting bureaucracy to the bone.
— "Britain can teach the world!"
— Can we prove it?
A good speech isn't one where
we can prove he's telling the truth.
It's one in which nobody else can prove he's lying!
But even so, I'm sure it was good,
but I just wondered whether
it was boring for the audience.
Of course it was boring!
Bored the pants of them!
Ghastly to have to sit through it, I should think!
Ministers' speeches aren't written
for the audience.
Aren't they?
Delivering a speech is just a formality
you go through to get into the papers.
We can't worry about entertaining.
We're not writing for a comedian.
Well, not a professional one!
The point is the speech said the right things.
— But why say it in public?
— It's vital.
Once it's printed, the Minister has
to defend us in select committees.
— He defends us anyway.
— Well... only to a point, Bernard.
Once something goes wrong,
the Minister's first instinct is
to rat on his department.
We must nail his trousers to the mast.
— You mean nail his colours?
— No, his trousers.
Then he can't climb down! Come on.
— Welcome home, Minister!
— Hello, Humphrey.
Bernard, didn't you say there were
some press cuttings on my speech?
Yes, I put them in the box, Minister.
Minister, you do realise
the importance of tomorrow's hearing?
Indeed. The press will be there.
It's not just a question of the press.
It's a scrutiny of this department's
future operation.
If it emerged that we were
extravagant or incompetent...
— Are we extravagant or incompetent?
— Of course not.
But there are hostile members,
especially the one for Derbyshire.
— No! Betty Oldham won't be there?
— Yes, alas.
I urge you to master this brief,
and ask if you have any problems.
Another brief? I've only just mastered one.
Really? What was in it?
I can't remember.
So difficult to concentrate on a plane,
all those drinks and movies.
— And they wake you up.
— Of course, Minister.
Frightfully difficult to concentrate
if you keep being woken up.
Seriously, this is the only brief with possible
questions from the committee
with appropriate answers carefully
presented to give our position.
Is it absolutely accurate?
They're carefully presented to give our position.
These committees are important.
I cannot be seen to mislead them.
You will not be seen to mislead them.
— The truth?
— And nothing but.
— The whole truth?
— Of course not.
— We tell them we keep secrets?
— Indeed not!
Why not?
"He that would keep a secret
must keep it secret,
"that he hath the secret to keep."
Who said that?
It was Sir Humphrey.
— Who said it originally?
— Francis Bacon, wasn't it?
Oh, yes.
Why can't we go anywhere without briefs?
In case they get caught with their trousers down.
Trousers down! Pick them...!
Very droll, Bernard.
— Are we going to be interrupted?
— Your diary's empty today.
What was in that submission I read?
More or less a rehash of last year's report.
And the year before? And the year before that?
Yes, ever since 1867.
With appropriate alterations.
Shall we go through it?
Must we? I'm still jet-lagged.
All the press will be there.
Right, let's get down to it.
The fact is that the Department
of Administrative Affairs
is run to a high standard of efficiency
and supports and services
the administrative work
of all Government departments,
as we've said in our submission.
Thank you, Minister. Questions?
— Mrs Oldham?
— Thank you.
Minister, have you heard of Malcolm Rhodes?
No.
He was assistant secretary
in the DAA until he resigned last year.
There are 23,000 people in the DAA.
But he resigned or was eased out.
Became a management consultant
and has just written a book -
this is an advance proof -
in which he makes astounding
allegations of waste of public money,
particularly in your department.
Could I have a word with my officials,
Mr Chairman?
— Know about this?
— Not about the book.
— Who is Rhodes?
— He's a trouble-maker.
— What's in the book?
— Don't know.
— What do I do?
— Stall.
"Stall", meaning avoiding answer.
Yes, I know what stall means!
You've sent me into a typhoon
without even an umbrella!
An umbrella's no use in wind...
Shut up, Bernard!
Have you had sufficient consultation
with your officials?
I...
Let me read you some
scandalous facts Mr Rhodes reveals,
and I quote, "No 4 supply
depot in Herefordshire,
"two former aircraft hangars
used only for stores
"but which are centrally-heated
to 70 degrees day and night."
— What do you say about that?
— I can't answer without prior notice.
— It might not be true.
— It is. I checked.
What reason can there be
for such appalling extravagance?
Some materials deteriorate at low
temperatures, depending on what it is.
Copper wire.
Yes, well... copper wire?
It can corrode in damp conditions.
It's plastic-coated.
Plastic-coated?
I...
Plastic-coated? I'll certainly have it looked into.
He says you insist on ordering all pens,
pencils, paperclips and so on centrally,
then distributing them against
departmental requisitions.
That seems to be quite sensible.
Savings through bulk purchase.
He demonstrates that this is
four times more expensive
than if officers bought what
they want on the High Street.
Very interesting.
If so, we'll change the system.
We're not a rigid bureaucracy.
He said he proposed this change
when he was in your department,
and it was turned down as people
were used to the existing procedure.
— How's that for rigid bureaucracy?
— I'll have it looked into.
— "Looked into"?
— Yes!
You said in your Washington
speech last week
that you conducted a war on waste
and could teach the world a lesson.
How do you reconcile that with
spending �75,000 on a roof garden
on top of the supplementary
benefits office in Kettering?
I'm... I'll...
— Have it looked into?
— Yes! Yes, I will!
The DAA's Permanent Secretary
is due to appear next week.
Isn't he the appropriate person
to answer the questions?
Thank you. See that Sir Humphrey's notified.
Perhaps you might let him see the allegations?
"Allegations of Government waste"?
"Big questions to answer"?
— You've put me in a difficult position!
— What about me?!
The PM's demanding economies,
and we've been wasting all this money!
No one's been saving anything,
you should know that!
They look as though they have.
— Couldn't you have stalled?
— Stalled?
Blurred things a bit.
— You're good at blurring the issue.
— What?
You have a considerable talent
for making things unintelligible.
— I beg your pardon!
— I mean that as a compliment.
Blurring the issue is one
of the basic ministerial skills.
And the others?
Delaying decisions, dodging questions,
juggling figures, bending facts
and concealing errors.
What was I to do?
Make it look like you'd do
something and do nothing.
Like you usually do.
— But if these revelations are true...
— Exactly, Minister, "if".
You could have discussed truth.
The committee isn't interested in truth.
They're all MPs!
— What about a security matter?
— HB pencils a security matter?!
Depends what you write with them!
Why build roof gardens on top of offices?
We took over the office design
from an American company,
and it happens that nobody noticed
the roof gardens on the plan.
God!
It's a tiny mistake anyone could make.
Tiny mistake, �75,000? Give me
an example of a big mistake?
Letting people find out about it!
Why are we heating sheds full of wire?
— You want the truth?
— If it's no trouble.
The staff are using the sheds
for growing mushrooms.
Stop them!
They've been doing it since 1945.
It's the only perk in an extremely boring job.
What about Rhodes's proposals for stationery?
He was a trouble-maker and crank,
unhealthily obsessed with efficiency.
Why didn't we adopt his proposals
and save millions?
— Yes, but a lot of work to implement.
— So?
— Taking on more staff.
— Humphrey!
— Disprove it.
— I can't, obviously.
— Exactly!
— Making it up?
— Of course.
— Why?
As an example of how to handle
a select committee.
Sir Humphrey, let's get down to details.
— This heated aircraft hangar.
— Indeed.
I do understand your concern,
but it gets frightfully cold in Herefordshire.
— Even civil servants...
— We aren't talking about civil servants.
We're talking coils of wire
plastic-coated to keep them warm!
— Staff are in and out all the time.
— Why?
Taking deliveries, making
withdrawals, checking records,
fire inspections...
— They can wear gloves, can't they?
— But it's a staff welfare policy.
I suggest this policy is costing
the taxpayer millions!
Nothing to say?
I can't comment on Government policy.
— But you advise the Minister.
— I can't disclose how I advise him.
— The Minister's responsible for policy.
— All right. We'll ask the Minister.
What about stationery savings?
It would've meant considerable
Government patronage on junior staff.
"Considerable Government patronage"?
Buying a packet of paperclips?
It's Government policy to exercise
strict control over who can spend its money.
It's common sense to let
people buy their own paperclips.
Government policy is nothing
to do with common sense.
Don't you think it's time
the policy was changed?
Well, Sir Humphrey?
I can't comment on Government policy.
Ask the Minister.
The Minister advises us to ask you.
I'm advising you to ask the Minister.
— When does this end?
— As soon as you like.
Let's come to the roof garden.
Yes, with pleasure.
This was part of a wide variety
of roof insulation schemes,
which the Government was testing
in the interest of fuel economy.
But �75,000!
It was thought the sale of vegetable
produce might offset the cost.
And did it?
— No.
— Then why not abandon the garden?
It's there now, insulating the roof,
and we aren't building any more.
But you've wasted �75,000!
All proposals were tested for fuel saving.
At this fantastic waste of taxpayers' money?
You agree it was wasted?
I can't comment on Government policy.
Ask the Minister.
Look, whatever we ask the Minister,
he says is a question for you.
Whatever we ask you,
you say is a question for the Minister!
— How do we find out what's going on?
— Yes, I see there is a dilemma here.
While the Government regards policy
as the responsibility of Ministers
and administration
as the responsibility of officials,
questions of administrative policy
cause confusion
between the policy of administration
and the administration of policy,
especially when responsibility
for the policy of administration
conflicts with responsibility for
the policy of administration of policy.
That's a load of meaningless drivel.
Isn't it?
I can't comment on Government policy.
You must ask the Minister.
— A great help!
— I did my best.
Best for yourself, perhaps!
But your answers solved nothing.
We'll both be there, getting the third
degree from that committee.
We've got to have the same answers!
— Let's establish our position.
— What are the facts?
The facts are neither here nor there!
I see. What's our position?
We choose one of the five standard
excuses to deal with each allegation.
Five standard excuses?
First, the excuse we used
in the Anthony Blunt case:
"There's an explanation for everything,
"but security forbids its disclosure."
Second, the excuse we used
for comprehensive schools:
"Because of budget cuts, supervisory
resources went beyond their limits."
— That's not true, is it?
— But it's a good excuse.
Then there's the excuse for Concorde:
"A worthwhile experiment, now abandoned,
"but not before it had provided
much valuable data and employment."
But that is true, isn't it?
Oh, no, of course it isn't.
Four, there's the excuse
for the Munich Agreement:
"It occurred before important facts
were known and couldn't re-occur."
What important facts?
That Hitler wanted to conquer Europe.
— I thought everybody knew that!
— Not the Foreign Office.
— Five?
— Five...
The Charge of the Light Brigade excuse:
"An unfortunate lapse by an individual,
"dealt with under internal
disciplinary procedures."
— That covers everything?
— Just about, so far.
— Even wars?
— Small wars.
— It's real teamwork from now on.
— United we stand, divided we fall!
Minister, you're due at the House.
The PM's adviser wants you to pop in
for a drink. Sir Mark Spencer.
— Mark Spencer?
— I suggested 5.30?
Fine, yes. Oh, dear. I knew there'd be trouble.
The PM wants to know why
our replies have been so feeble.
Perhaps it's just for a drink.
They don't ask you for a drink
just because you're thirsty!
I'll meet you back here at 6.30,
and we'll cook up a story.
— Agree our position, Minister.
— That's what I said.

🎬 [KNOCK AT DOOR]

Come in!
Hello, Jim.
— Scotch?
— Thanks.
— How are things going?
— Fine.
That select committee was a shock,
throwing the book at us,
but everything's under control
and Humphrey and I can explain it.
The PM shouldn't worry.
I'd like to know where Malcolm Rhodes
got all his information.
And who gave the proofs to Betty Oldham?
The PM must be livid.
It's no fault of mine.
— Why do you think the PM's livid?
— Surely...?
Let's look at the situation logically.
Sit down.
Yes. Of course.
Let me ask you some questions.
What is the PM trying to achieve
in public expenditure?
— Cuts, obviously.
— Why so little success?
— Obstruction from the civil service?
— Are all the Cabinet committed to it?
— I think so. I certainly am.
— But no Minister's made any cuts.
— Rome wasn't built in a day.
— No.
It's because all the Ministers have gone native.
— Surely...?
— The civil service has trained them!
Well, maybe true... Certainly not of me!
If a Minister were really trying to cut expenditure,
how would he react to a book
exposing Government waste?
— I should think he'd...
— Mmm?
It would depend...
What are you trying to say?
Know what the civil service say?
You're a pleasure to work with.
Oh!
Oh...
That's what Barbara Woodhouse
says about her spaniels.
Sir Humphrey said
you're worth your weight in gold.
What does that suggest to you?
That I've failed utterly?
You look as if you need another Scotch.
The PM isn't pleased with my performance
at the committee.
— I failed to cover up the failure.
— On the contrary.
He's not pleased
because you're covering up too well.
Don't you see? You're protecting the civil service.
The PM and I are doing our best
to expose why cuts in expenditure
are not taking place.
And you are helping the civil service
to defy the Government.
Am I?
You were wondering where
Betty Oldham got the proofs
and where Malcolm Rhodes
got that inside information.
Can't you guess?

[WHISPERS]
You mean... the PM?
Of course not!
Not directly.

[WHISPERS]
You mean... you?
What am I to do at the select committee?
There's only one course
open to you. Absolute loyalty.
Who to?
That's your decision.
It was an error that occurred
before important facts were known.
I assure you it is an oversight
that couldn't possibly happen again.
— Wouldn't you agree, Minister?
— Perfectly correct.
The correct official reply.
But I've been thinking very deeply
over the last few days,
and there's no doubt that
this committee is on to something.
Of course there's waste.
And excuses can always
be found in individual cases.
But you have convinced me
our approach is wrong.
Ministers and their civil servants
so often cover up and defend
where they should seek out and destroy.
I've spoken to Mr Rhodes,
author of this invaluable book,
and he'll head an independent enquiry
into the field of administration,
starting with my department.
And how does Sir Humphrey react to this?
Sir Humphrey is in complete agreement with me.
We work as a team. I must say,
he's a pleasure to work with.
But this account of what's been going on
doesn't square with your Washington
speech about a war on waste.
Well, I'm an old-fashioned sort of chap, Betty,
and I believe in a thing called loyalty.
Whatever you say in private
you defend in public, eh, Humphrey?
In that case, aren't you being disloyal now?
No. I believe a Minister has a higher loyalty.
A loyalty to Parliament and the nation.
And that loyalty must be paramount,
however hard and painful that may be.
Of course, one is loyal
to one's department and officials,
until the evidence is overwhelming,
but I must say in public,
that reforms can and will take place,
and I know I shall find
in Sir Humphrey my staunchest ally.
Isn't that so, Humphrey?

[CROAKS]
Yes, Minister.
Yes, Minister.
— A big help!
— I did my best.
The best for yourself! This is
your idea of teamwork? Amusing!
— I had to do it.
— Had to do what?
Cravenly admit everything to them?
Don't you realise how calamitous this is for us?
— Not both of us, I hope.
— You hope in vain.
We're up in arms,
with very little confidence in you.
As for Number 10, I shudder to think
how the PM will react
to your public admission of failure.
A personal letter from the Prime Minister.
I did warn you, Minister.
Bernard, you should give some thought
to drafting a face-saving letter
of resignation for the Minister.
"Dear Jim..."
"Dear Jim"?
"We haven't seen enough of each other lately.
"Are you free for lunch at Chequers on Sunday?
"We shall just be the family.
I look forward to seeing you."
I don't think I...?
It has paid off!
A conspiracy! That drink with Mark Spencer!
"...not seen enough... Lunch at Chequers..."
It's hand-written!
Do you realise how much it's worth?
I believe the going rate is thirty pieces of silver!
No, Humphrey. Loyalty and integrity
have received their just rewards.
Loyalty?!
I have backed you up the same way
you have always backed me up.
Isn't that so?
Sorry? Did you say something?
I think he said, "Yes, Minister."