Our system of government has been built on the partnership between Ministers and their public service officials to implement the government’s policies. Inevitably, that requires a high level of mutual confidence and trust.

The system further assumes that officials, whatever their personal political allegiances, will work impartially with Ministers to achieve those goals. Ministers have the right to expect the professional loyalty and genuine effort of their officials, and officials should expect to receive the support of their Ministers in return.

By and large, the system works as intended, but every now and then things go awry, sometimes seriously. Recent revelations about some Immigration Service officials deliberately pulling the wool over the eyes of both the current and previous governments over a $33 million biometrics technology upgrade that ultimately produced nothing, provoking the understandable “fury” of Immigration Minister Erica Stanford, is perhaps the most dramatic example.

That is presently the subject of an inquiry by the Public Service Commissioner, so making pronouncements, let alone threats of imprisonment, about what should happen next is not only premature but also extremely unwise. Nevertheless, confirmation of Stanford’s complaints by her Labour predecessor, Andrew Little, highlights the seriousness of the situation.

However, officials pursuing their own agendas and keeping Ministers in the dark has been going on in the public service, usually at much lower levels, for years. Indeed, the internationally successful comedy series “Yes Minister” and “Yes Prime Minister” were predicated on the notion that public servants regularly outwitted Ministers and thwarted their efforts to introduce policies the officials disapproved of. Many politicians, in New Zealand and elsewhere, considered the   series to be documentaries rather than comedies.

I began my working career as a junior official in the old Department of Trade and Industry, in the days when import licensing was still in place. To regulate imports and protect both the balance of payments and domestic manufacturing, the government produced an annual Import Licensing Schedule, setting out which specific consumer and other items and to which extent could be imported. The system was cumbersome, and open to much potential abuse.

Officials regularly ignored the Schedule when dealing with licensing applications from favoured  importers and ran the system according to their own instincts and experiences. Indeed, I recall on more than one occasion being at meetings where officials debated “what would Walter have done” to resolve a particular application, rather than following that year’s Import Licensing Schedule. The “Walter” they were referring to was Walter Nash, who had set up the import licensing system in 1936, decades earlier!

Years later, when a Minister, I recall being told by officials that regulations I was seeking were “just a couple of weeks” away, only to discover soon after that no work had been done on drafting the regulations because officials were unsure how to make them work and did not want to tell me so. On another occasion, I recall two officials appearing before a Cabinet committee to discuss a particular government programme. When the Prime Minister asked how this fitted in with current government policy, they bluntly replied that it did not because it was a programme established by a previous government which they were still administering, regardless of the then current government’s policy.

While these are smaller examples than the current Immigration Service scandal, they are symptomatic of a wider issue. Public servants often become so engrossed in what they are working on that they end up viewing it more as their “life’s work” than the government of the day’s policy. Because they tend to outlast Ministers in their roles, it is easy to see how they come to regard their political masters as transitory interruptions, interfering with the work they have been immersed in for so many years.  

And in many cases, they will be right – as public servants working on an issue over several years and different governments, they will often know more about the details (and the problems) than the Minister to whom they are reporting. But while this may provide an explanation of such behaviour, it does not justify it. It does, however, underscore the challenge facing the Public Service Commissioner in trying to get to the bottom of Minister Stanford’s concerns and the wider systemic issues underlying the behaviour she is so furious about.

But unless they are resolved in a way that enables Ministers – in this government or any future government – to regain confidence in the commitment and professionalism of the public service, the very structure and integrity of our system will be severely shaken. That in turn will impact on public trust – especially if it leads to people no longer having confidence that the government they have elected will be able to implement the policies they voted for.

As the esteemed British philosopher AC Grayling notes, democracy is not self-sustaining. It requires informed citizens, trusted institutions, and a political culture that values reasoned debate and compromise. He argues that when those conditions deteriorate, democracies become vulnerable to polarization, populism, and authoritarian tendencies.

In “Yes Minister” Sir Humphrey Appleby once famously said, “Politicians come and go, but the Civil Service remains … Politicians are there to make the decisions. Civil servants are there to make sure they make the right decisions.” A more balanced view might be that although modern government requires expertise and continuity, the ultimate authority and accountability for making decisions must rest with democratically elected politicians, whatever their limitations, rather than be usurped by public servants, their expertise and experience notwithstanding.

Given the rise of crude populism across the world at present, re-asserting Grayling’s point is becoming a vital step towards sustaining democracy as we know it.