Our Labour government has often been criticised for employing too many ‘special advisers’ at the heart of the administration. These attacks come in two forms. The first, made by the Tories and elements of the media, is that special advisers are Labour ‘spin doctors’, paid to mislead and beguile the public with pro-government propaganda. From time to time, a special adviser is caught in open country and, instead of influencing the news agenda, becomes part of it, pace Jo Moore and Charlie Whelan. This reinforces a general sense that Labour is all about spin and not substance.
These attacks are highly disingenuous. Most special advisers do not handle the media at all – they are policy experts working on departmental briefs. The role of the special adviser is that of a minister’s trusted ally, confidant, consigliore and friend in a turbulent political environment. They are appointed directly by cabinet ministers and, unlike civil servants, their fortunes rise and fall with their masters.
Special advisers have been with us for at least 30 years. The Tories used them extensively, and would have them again if they ever form a government. Most lunchtimes you can see political journalists, who decry Labour ‘spin’, at lunch with special advisers at Shepherds or the Cinnamon Club, or other fashionable Westminster restaurants, being spoon-fed more than polenta. So, when tested, the first criticism of special advisers collapses like an overdone soufflé.
The second attack on SPADS (as they are also known) is that their growing influence threatens to undermine the impartiality of the civil service and the neutrality of the administration of government. This is a more complex argument, offered by constitutionalists and retired permanent secretaries.
It is based on the idea that good government is all about continuity, stability, and sound chaps running things. Ministers come and go, governments rise and fall, but the civil service goes on forever. The last thing ministers need is some jumped-up politically motivated expert whispering alternative advice in their ear.
This argument is on the one hand laughable and, on the other, hugely revealing – revealing that civil servants feel threatened by ministers receiving political advice and support from someone who is not one of their own. It displays the mindset at the top of the civil service: contempt for politicians, disregard for the success or failure of policies, and belief in their right to run things, regardless of who the electorate happens to choose.
The solution is obvious. If the role of special advisers is unclear, and threatens the position of the civil servants, then let us make things very simple and transparent. All civil servants, grade three and above, should be appointed directly by the government. Their career opportunities, chances of advancement and job satisfaction will depend largely on the success of the government, its ministers and its policies. That should focus a few minds in Whitehall.
We will have a political administration with a genuine stake in politics and a desire to make policies work. The senior echelons of the administration will be loyal to the government of the day, for a change. We will – gasp – politicise the running of government and nail the myth that the civil service is above politics. It was, after all, most likely a civil servant who leaked Jo Moore’s tasteless email, briefed the press against her and her boss Stephen Byers, and ensured their downfall.
We should not believe the Bennite caricature of the civil service as conservative, establishment, posh and an obstacle to socialism (although some of them plainly are). Nor should we buy the line that they are benign, neutral and simply there to do ministers’ bidding. Our reform should be based on the true picture – that they are a self-serving, self-perpetuating oligarchy, protecting their own interests under the cloak of constitutionalism, and they simply don’t care whether Labour succeeds or fails. We should hire a few people who do.