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Very uncertain times for the nation’s civil servants. Last week, we were publicly fat-shamed by the prime minister ahead of his landmark speech at healthcare company Reckitt Benckiser’scampus in Kingston upon Hull. No, I’d never heard of it either, but it turns out to be a UK manufacturer of a number of brands responsible for just about holding austerity Britain together: Durex, Nurofen and Dettol.
The thrusting symbolism of this choice of venue takes some beating. After all, Cabinet Office minister Pat McFadden – employing the regretful tones of an obstetrics consultant who’s seen it all – had on 9 March foreshadowed Keir Starmer’s free-verse soliloquy by explaining how the civil service would be shafted to get “more bang for our buck”.
This cleared the way for state sex therapist Starmer to explain to a creepily enthusiastic Hull audience exactly why we should all lie back and just let “project chainsaw” do its thing. Don’t worry, madam, with some painkillers and a bit of disinfectant, this won’t take long. Just ask NHS England.
If you think I’m overdoing the symbolism, you’re probably right. But this is, increasingly, the world we now live in, and when it comes to establishing his own personal brand, Starmer seems to be, at least at first glance, a master of metaphor. From the ditching of his tie in the run-up to last year’s election, to the location of his first speech as PM, to the choreographed theatricality of his recent meeting with Trump, it should be no surprise that Starmer’s current vision for the British state is a reflection of how he sees himself. Check out his interview with the News Agents podcast last week, where he said: “I believe in the state. I think it should be active. I think it should be sleeves rolled up. It should be on the pitch, making a difference.” L’État, c’est moi.
Problem is, this approach to communicating about this stuff is so last season. Most civil servants with a front-row seat at the recent jamboree of political messaging don’t disagree with the principles being proposed by Starmer, McFadden and Wes “I don’t feel the need to come in and make my mark with a top-down reorganisation of the NHS” Streeting. Why would we? As civil service union boss Dave Penman wrote in his gentle but not entirely undeserved slapdown of my piece about Starmer’s aid cuts the other week, it’s not really for civil servants to publicly question ministerial policy.
But in this case, it isn’t the message. It’s the delivery. Starmer has fallen into a bad habit of attempting to channel the Orange One when trying to get things done, from “build, baby, build” to the unedifying spectacle of his going full Doge on the civil service. That approach might work across the Atlantic, but as my civil service godfather Penman has pointed out, “scapegoating civil servants might generate headlines, but it’s not a strategy for effective reform”.
Starmer, to his credit, seems to be coming to this realisation already, after being warned by former cabinet secretary Gus O’Donnell and the Institute for Government that an adversarial approach will probably spell disaster. Even the most gimlet-eyed civil servants among us shed a tear over his beautiful letter to us on 10 March that gushed: “Your talent has been constrained for too long … we are proud of what you do and thank you for your continued dedication.”
Very touching, but having seen first-hand every leader since Tony Blair have a go at overhauling the machinery of government, my hope is that this is a lesson Starmer won’t have to keep relearning. Because when it comes to civil service reform, what goes around, comes around.
That’s because, simply, it’s bloody hard work. Maybe the hardest thing of all in public service. In fact, despite Starmer’s reforming zeal, in its short time in office, his own government has been unable to resist the temptation to create quangos and arm’s-length bodies – more than 20 of them have been created since Labour came to power, including, perhaps ironically, Rachel Reeves’ Office for Value for Money.
Politicians also sometimes choose to forget that reform is already happening: the civil service is a very different animal than the one I first encountered in the early 2000s. It’s more diverse (though not yet diverse enough), it’s far more decentralised (most UK civil servants work outside London), and it already spends £26bn a year on digital technology and employs more than 100,000 digital and data professionals. Yes, every day, HMRC still takes 100,000 calls, and the Department for Work and Pensions still opens 45,000 envelopes, but don’t fall for the rightwing trope that we’re flabby, tepid, recalcitrant losers intent on destroying democracy.
Above all, the prime minister needs to remember that civil servants are up for reforming the state. Not only do we have to work inside it, we, too, are trying to get that appointment with a GP. We know what it’s like to be in receipt of the very benefits we administrate. And we, too, feel deep frustration with the bureaucracy and – as I wrote at the end of last year – want to work with the PM to improve how public services are delivered. While the prime minister’s language has been hurting civil service morale for quite some time now, we aren’t afraid of getting our hands dirty to make change happen. Enough of the arm wrestling: time for a handshake.
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The author works for the UK civil service
