Yes, Prime Minister, Episode 14
Sir Humphrey versus Sir Mumphrey

The October day was muggy and close, and the atmosphere within Number Ten Downing Street was even nastier. The post-Parody War global warming spike had only aggravated the global shortage of generating capacity, so the Government had set an example by ordering official buildings, including the Prime Minister's residence, to set their thermostats to 30 degrees Celsius. The triple-glazed, soundproof, bullet-resistant windows of Number Ten had to remain sealed for security reasons, of course.

The most secure, muggiest, nastiest and most stagnant room of all was the Prime Minister's office, which made it understandable that Bernard Woolley, his Principal Private Secretary, was taking a deep breath of the merely stifling air of the anteroom before entering the centre of British government.

On entering, Mr. Woolley was momentarily surprised by the PM's clean, dry white shirt. His own bore large' wet patches at the armpits and sweat stains dotting the rest, while his loosened tie was dark around his neck. Then he noted that the Prime Minister was just emerging from his private bathroom, and that the shirt still had the laundry's press-creases on it.

The Prime Minister, the Right Honourable James Hacker:
Ah. Bernard, be a good fellow and have Mrs. Greenwood bring in a half-dozen more shirts, would you?

Woolley: Very good, Prime Minister. And if the laundry hasn't returned enough shirts yet?

Hacker: Send someone out to buy more. [sits behind his ornate Regency desk. Woolley remains standing in somewhat of the pose of a schoolboy in the headmaster's office.]

Woolley:. On the Foreign Office account? You *are* meeting all those ambassadors later.

Hacker: Oh. Hmm. Excellent suggestion, Bernard. Very proactive. [Notices Bernard's sopping appearance.]. Why don't you remove your tie? It might help a bit.

Woolley: No, thank you, Prime Minister. In fact, I should be more careful about it. [Buttons his collar and tightens his tie. Drops of sweat appear on its surface.]

Hacker: [solicitously but unconscious of his own now half-crisp but still dry shirt.]. Come now, an open collar won't cause the Government to fall.

Woolley: Can't let the side down, Prime Minister. It would be a terrible example for everyone in the building.

Hacker: But I ordered that all officials should dispense with ties for the duration.

Woolley: Of course, Prime Minister, that is the official policy. And we are adhering to it scrupulously. No one is required to wear one. It's just that official practice varies slightly.

Hacker: How many civil servants dispensed with ties this morning, Bernard?

Woolley [fidgeting]: Counting the gardeners, the maintenance staff and the mailroom staff, perhaps a dozen.

Hacker: And there are over 500 professional positions in Number Ten alone. Who organized this mass insubordination?

Woolley: No one, Prime Minister. It's just that the morning after your address to the nation, Sir Humphrey came in properly dressed, and, well, it just didn't seem *right* -- and besides which, you never even noti -- commented until now.

Hacker: Well, I'm commenting now, Bernard. No ties on anyone, starting tomorrow. We are setting an example. An example, modest as it may be, that may inspire our nation, and then the world, to greater efforts for the common good. In fact, we will lead the entire Parodyverse, so that when beings look back upon this time, they will say, "This was their finest hour."

Woolley: Inspiring, Prime Minister. But perhaps overeloquent a bit? Your political advisor did warn you --

Hacker: The woman has no sense of original style, Bernard. If it doesn't poll high, she hates it.

Woolley: Quite. [noting a discreet knock on the door]. In any event, Sir Humphrey is here for your meeting. Shall I let him in?

Hacker: [Nods.]

[Sir Humphrey Appleby, Secretary to the Cabinet and Head of the Home Civil Service, enters. He is a slim, almost feral man, impeccably attired in a charcoal-gray, handmade suit, creases knife-sharp despite the humidity, and his shirt is fresher than Hacker's, although he's been wearing it all day. He carries a bulging manila file jacket. He approaches Hacker's desk and pauses with a certain complacency, as if his apparent deference is merely a facade.]

Hacker: Please take a seat, Humphrey. You also, Bernard. [They do.]

Sir Humphrey [setting the tone immediately, in a chilly and overly efficient manner]: Prime Minister, I understand that a member of the Government has raised for consideration the elevation of one Mumphrey Wilton to membership in the Most Noble Order of the Garter.

Hacker [noncommittally]: Yes.

Sir Humphrey: Under the circumstances, and with due regard to the sensitivities of a matter that impinges so intimately on the Crown's prerogative, it is incumbent that there be a transparent and unambiguous provenance for any such initiative, with a concomitant opportunity to enter into an unrestricted and exhaustive examination of all relevant considerations.

Hacker [bewildered]: could you, rather, explain -- ah, transparency! Yes, of course we favor transparency.

Sir Humphrey: Just so, Prime Minister. I'll follow up on your decision and arrange for a confidential Cabinet Office group to consider the matter and report back at the appropriate time. [Editor's note: perhaps in the 22nd Century] Now if we can just spare a few moments for the Civil Service parking accommodation liberalization?

Hacker: Well, I suppose . . . wait a moment, I want no such thing!

Sir Humphrey: Prime Minister! Hundreds of officials have been waiting years --

Hacker: Not the car parks, Humphrey, Wilton. Sir Mumphrey Wilton.

Sir Humphrey: But you agreed --

Hacker: But me no buts, Humphrey. *I* recommended Sir Mumphrey Wilton, and he *is* going to become a knight of the Garter. Now who could possibly object to that?

Sir Humphrey [in a toadying tone]: No one, of course, Prime Minister. I couldn't be more supportive of your wishes. [Editor's note: read the preceding sentence as if the Hooded Hood had uttered it.] I simply wish to anticipate any potential difficulties.

Hacker [mollified]: I'm glad to hear that, Humphrey. [Taking the bait] Now what might those difficulties be?

Sir Humphrey: First off, there is some question as to how important his contribution was to the victory. [removes a thick memo from the file jacket]. As you may be aware, Mr Herbert Garrick, the President's Special Adviser for Metahuman Affairs, was present at almost every critical juncture in the direction of the war. As his summary in this submission states, "Sir Mumphrey Wilton frequently displayed a proclivity towards making great commitments of resources in peripheral theaters, harming the central effort [Editor's note: as did Churchill], a callous and pronounced disregard for massive military and civilian casualties, lack of restraint and sometimes even profound disorientation making his decisions erratic or even nonsensical. If it were not for the efforts of those of us at GHQ, Earth might be in even more dire straits than today."

Woolley [under his breath]: Bad News Herb thinks "dire straits" is something other than a rock band?

Sir Humphrey [menacingly]: I'll speak with you later, Bernard.

Hacker: Haven't I met this Garrick somewhere? I'm getting this sort of queasy feeling when you mention him.

Sir Humphrey: Mr Garrick has been the U.S. Government's top man on metahuman threats for almost eight years. I have found him to be a man of impeccable soundness. Of course, you could take an independent position and offend Washington by discounting their senior representative's assessment, but that could be controversial.

Hacker: Controversial? How? The man commanded the entire war effort of this planet! He’s the greatest British general since Montgomery.

Sir Humphrey: Indeed, Prime Minister. I’m entirely behind you on this. In fact, to my thinking, Sir Mumphrey is a worthy peer of General Montgomery’s. No one could fault his ability to sacrifice dozens of cities, yes, even entire nations, in the cause. I cannot emphasize too highly my admiration for his cold-blooded ability to subordinate mere human life and the most precious artifacts of our civilisations to the cause of victory.

Hacker: I suppose, Humphrey, you’re right, but we still have to balance Sir Mumphrey’s ruthlessness against the ultimate result.

Sir Humphrey: Understood. And you might also be interested in Sir Geoffrey Howard’s thinking. [Pulls out another memo.] As Chief of the Defence Staff, he did point out that most of Sir Mumphrey’s experience was with the Lair Legion. As he put it, “a group of irregulars without the discipline and history of a true armed force.” Of course, he might not have the broader perspective you have, although he is the senior officer of Her Majesty’s Armed Forces.

Woolley: And we all remember how distinguished the Army’s performance was in the Parody War. Do we?

Sir Humphrey: I think, Bernard, Sir Geoffrey’s point was that had Sir Mumphrey been working with real troops as opposed to the – undisciplined – ranks of the Lair Legion, we would have had a more reliable benchmark of his worth. Any one might seem to be a strategic genius when viewed against an avowed lunatic, a German infiltrator, an exotic dancer and the rest of that lot.

Hacker: Yes, yes, Humphrey, I see that, but still –

Sir Humphrey: And of course they will all wish to attend the ceremony. We’d have to find some way to assure that Her Majesty would not be embarrassed, but of course you’ve resolved that problem, Prime Minister?

Hacker: Well, er, of course we cannot permit any untoward behaviour. We’ll get on to the Palace about it – they’ve seen just about everything by now and know how to cope with it.

Sir Humphrey: Of course, Prime Minister. I shall advise the Palace that you are referring the problem to them. I’m sure they will be most pleased.

Hacker: Well, erm, wait a moment, isn’t that what the Cabinet Office is for? That’s your department, Humphrey. You solve it.

Sir Humphrey [not fazed at all by Hacker’s ploy]: Quite so, Prime Minister. We shall convene an interministerial committee to consider the matter, with broad terms of reference and a mandate for an expeditious resolution.

Hacker: Which means?

Sir Humphrey: About 18 months to two years. Unless problems arise.

Hacker: It can’t be that difficult.

Sir.Humphrey: Prime Minister, what would you do about a CrazySugarFreakBoy!? Or a cyborg woman who rides frightfully large motorcycles into strategy meetings with her blouse open?

Woolley [longingly]: She does?

Hacker: Humphrey, you miss the point. Sir Mumphrey is seen to be the hero of the Parody War, the biggest disaster since I became Prime Minister. It's only fitting that I recognize that.

[An embarassed silence descends, finally broken by Sir Humphrey]

Sir Humphrey: Be that as it may, Prime Minister, remember that I am wholly in favor of your proposal. It is my duty, however, to point out all the pros and cons that relate to it, without personal interest or political considerations.

Woolley: Sir Humphrey, didn’t you have an encounter with Sir Mumphrey at one time?

Sir Humphrey: Utterly trivial, Bernard. A matter of removing some animals in Scotland decades ago. Nothing came of it. Hardly a thought until you mentioned it.

Woolley: If you say so, Sir Humphrey.

Hacker: But I need – believe, rather, that Sir Mumphrey Wilton deserves that honour. And regardless of all that, he’s British, and he’s on every TV channel in the universe, and it’s only proper that I --

Woolley: Er, Prime Minister, I should remind you, that you will not have any part in the investiture ceremony. Her Majesty and the members of the order are the only ones privileged to participate.

Hacker: What? I mean, of course. But there must be some way . . . perhaps I could introduce him on camera before the ceremony. Or at a reception afterwards. I mean, it wouldn’t be right to honour him without the opportunity for me to be seen with him – I mean, er, . . .

Sir Humphrey: To deliver an appropriate recognition of his work, with full exposure for yourself, of course. You need only upstage Her Majesty.

Hacker [protesting too loudly]: Of course not, Humphrey. Utterly trivial. Nothing to it. Hardly a thought until you mentioned it.

Woolley: Well, does that mean you are both in agreement?

Hacker: Well, clearly some further thought is warranted.

Sir Humphrey: Yes, Prime Minister.

[credits roll]

Notes:

Fans of British television comedies of the eighties will remember "Yes, Minister " and "Yes, Prime Minister," probably the best political comedies ever done. I've lovingly borrowed the characters created by Jonathan Lynn and Antony Jay for this parody in tribute to Ian and his sterling character, Sir Mumphrey Wilton.

Sir Humphrey, the consummate bureaucrat, schemes tirelessly to assure that nothing ever changes except for increases in the size of the government. James Hacker, first a cabinet minister and then prime minister, flails away trying to do something -- anything -- that will get him favorable publicity.

The Order of the Garter is England's most exclusive college of knights, limited to 24 plus the Queen and the Prince of Wales. As such, it is a much greater honor than being created a life peer (a nobleman for life), which Sir Mumphrey would probably disdain as a pernicious innovation used to reward political hacks (and with which Sir Humphrey would agree).

As it happens, Sir Mumphrey Wilton and Humphrey Appleby (as he was then) did meet decades ago in Scotland, when Appleby was an Assistant Principal at the Scottish Office, seconded from the Ministry of Defence. Appleby was charged with eliminating the Detonator Hippo menace to crofters and grouse hunters and had suggested methods such as a mass detonation aboard a naval cruiser to be scrapped or exiling the entire population to Diego Garcia and waiting for time and intense sunlight to trigger them all. Sir Mumphrey scotched all of the suggestions, with appropriate invective directed at the hapless but seething Appleby. The Pentagon, however, learned about the plan to strand explosive hippos in the middle of the Indian Ocean, which became the inspiration for its top secret base on Diego Garcia.

Careful readers of UT may remember that Sir Mumphrey had (most respectfully) advised the Queen that he could not comply with her request made at the beginning of the Parody War arc, which might explain why HM has not already bestowed an honor on him.

J. JONAH JERKSON
Voice of the People