No, Minister

I have always suspected that there was more than a grain of truth to the assertion that the civil service rather than the government runs the country, as immortalised by the 1980’s sitcom Yes Minister. Last week’s resignation of deputy prime minister, Dominic Raab, over allegations of bullying, has done little to dissuade me. The report by Adam Tolley KC upheld only two out of eight formal complaints—specifically that Raab’s conduct was “unreasonably and persistently aggressive in the context of a work meeting,” and that he introduced an “unwarranted punitive element,” which was “experienced as undermining and humiliating.” 

For his part, Raab has honourably resigned (as promised), but he has been extremely critical of the report. In his resignation statement, Raab referred to two imperatives: firstly that “ministers must be able to exercise direct oversight with respect to senior officials over critical negotiations conducted on behalf of the British people, otherwise the democratic and constitutional principle of ministerial responsibility will be lost.”’ Second, that “ministers must be able to give direct critical feedback on briefings and submissions to senior officials, in order to set the standards and drive the reform the public expect of us.” Surely, there can be little argument with that. 

Raab is not the first senior minister to fall on his sword over allegations of bullying. Former defence secretary, Sir Gavin Williamson resigned late last year over expletive-laden text messages, and after telling a senior civil servant to “slit your throat” and “jump out of the window.” Former home secretary, Priti Patel was herself the subject of a bullying inquiry which cited incidents of shouting and swearing at staff. The case was eventually dropped after a substantial payout. 

Lest we become convinced that the notion of bullying is a partisan field, former Prime Minister Gordon Brown faced a string of allegations of bullying and violence while in office, which included throwing pens, phones, and a computer printer, and even once resulted in striking a colleague. 

As the range of bullying accusations are varied in their nature, we need to consider Tolley’s report in its entirety to weigh up precisely what Raab was accused of—and what exactly constitutes “persistently aggressive” and “undermining and humiliating.” The 47-page report hardly warrants its length, but do not fear, I have distilled it for you. 

The first point, acknowledged by Tolley, is that bullying is neither a legally defined term, nor defined for the purpose of the Ministerial Code. He cites therefore the definition of harassment and discrimination according to the Equality Act, concluding that the evidence obtained did not indicate in any way that the deputy prime minister’s behaviour was unlawful. Tolley then considers the approach to bullying taken by Sir Alex Allan in his role as independent adviser into the conduct of Priti Patel: 

The definition of bullying adopted by the Civil Service accepts that legitimate, reasonable and constructive criticism of a worker’s performance will not amount to bullying. It defines bullying as intimidating or insulting behaviour that makes an individual feel uncomfortable, frightened, less respected or put down.

Seeing as we live in a world where feelings appear to matter more than facts, this seems to privilege the role of the accuser over the defendant. The waters are then muddied considerably by Tolley’s admission that the “investigation was not governed by strict rules of evidence appropriate to court proceedings.” Tolley explains. “Concepts applicable in legal proceedings such as the ‘burden of proof’ and the ‘standard of proof’ did not apply as such.” In some cases this was necessary, as the complaints dated back five years, with no available documentary evidence. 

Particularly enlightening within the report, is the testimony of Raab himself:

He works assiduously and typically from about 0730 until about 2200, Monday to Thursday. This includes working during the car journey to Westminster and from Westminster to home. Fridays are allocated to constituency work. He usually does extensive work on weekends also. He makes a determined effort to use his working time effectively. He seeks to use meetings with policy officials in order to test the relevant material and make a decision.

In his own words, Raab is “inquisitorial, direct, impatient, and fastidious.” He “tends to prepare extensively for meetings” and “will typically have read all of the key papers and identified questions in advance.” Raab has expressed his frustration with regard to “the quality of work done,” “its speed of production,” and “the extent to which it implements his policy decisions.” Raab also described what he considered to be “cultural resistance” to certain policies, and that in terms of Brexit, some officials “were being deliberately unhelpful.” 

In other words, the picture emerging is a minister working somewhere in the region of a 90-100 hour week, being routinely frustrated by either the incompetence or the wilful negligence of civil service staff. That might justify the odd insult or uncomfortable feeling from time to time. 

But what precisely is the substance of the accusations against him? This was the hardest part of the report to read: partly because the accusations appear to be relatively insignificant, and partly because Tolley does not appear overly forthcoming with detail. In short, this is the crux of his findings:

Physical gestures: At the most extreme, and which would have been unacceptable, this was put as extending his hand directly out towards another person’s face with a view to making them stop talking. Another example of such an allegation was loud banging of the table to make a point. At the opposite end of the spectrum, which would be regarded as acceptable, suggestions were made of the use of a defensive gesture to suggest that a person should hold off from speaking further, accompanied by a verbal explanation, or the use of a finger extended downwards to make a particular point.

Intimidation: The DPM’s conduct was a form of intimidating behaviour, in the sense of conveying a threat of unspecified disciplinary action. He did not target any individual, nor intend to threaten anyone with disciplinary action. However, he ought to have realised that referring in this way to the Civil Service Code could have been understood as such a threat.

Unclear: There was a stark dispute as to whether the DPM had described the work done as ‘utterly useless’ and ‘woeful’.

Overall: I conclude that the DPM’s conduct during the MoJ Period was on some occasions abrasive, in the sense of a personal style which is and feels intimidating or insulting to the individual, but is not intended to be so. His conduct was not, however, ‘abusive’ in the sense of behaviour which is intended and specifically targeted.

I find it extraordinary that this is the extent of the accusations against Raab, particularly in light of what we know about other such cases which have merited the term bullying. I find it astonishing that these are the apparent standards of conduct to which ministers in high-profile, high-stress positions should be held, and that civil servants in positions of pivotal importance for the nation cannot handle a modicum of criticism. And I find Tolley’s conclusion that there was no “persuasive evidence” that Raab ever swore or shouted at staff, nothing but a credit to him. I cannot help but echo the sentiments expressed by Raab, that a dangerous precedent has been set here. How are ministers expected to effect change when the slightest criticism could see them hounded out of office? 

There is an alternate explanation to all the above however, which is simply that the civil service is unfit for purpose. The Civil Service Code explicitly states:

civil servants must not ignore inconvenient facts or relevant considerations when providing advice or making decisions and must not frustrate the implementation of policies once decisions are taken by declining to take, or abstaining from, action which flows from those decisions.

I would suggest from Raab’s comments, that the Civil Service Code is not being adhered to in any meaningful sense. 

But there are more permanent grounds for holding the civil service’s feet to the fire here. Activism and bias within Whitehall are not the work of fantasy, but are in fact well-documented. Not only does the service suffer from a clear left-wing bias, demonstrably apparent during Brexit —which Lord Lawson accurately identified civil servants would do their best to frustrate. However, the activism runs deeper. The civil service has been obstructing successive home secretaries in their attempts to fulfil the will of the British people, with particular reference to the issue of border control and their threat to strike over the Rwanda deal. 

With the nation in extremis, it is essential that civil servants enact the will of the people as interpreted by their representatives in government, or seek alternative employment. How much responsibility they ought to bear for the ineffectual conservative administration is unclear. What is clear, however, is that not only should Dominic Raab never have been sacked, but also that his dismissal will embolden the Sir Humphrey Applebys of this world.