All language subtitles for S02E05 - Power to the People

- Morning.
- Morning.

You have to leave for the TV studios
in five minutes.

- Do you remember what the interview's about?
- Local government.

The one thing I can do nothing about.

These wretched councils are run by a bunch of
corrupt morons who are too clever by half.

The most a moron can be is less clever by half.
These councillors are democratically elected.

Depends how you define democracy. Only about
25% of people vote in a local election.

Those who do regard it as a popularity pole
for the real leaders in Westminster.

- But councillors are still representatives.
- Who do they represent?

Nobody knows who their councillor is.
Do you know who yours is?

- No.
- Well, no, of course you don't.

The councillors know this,

so they spend four totally unaccountable
years on a publicly subsidised ego trip.

They ruin the inner cities,
let the schools fall to bits,

they demoralise the police
and undermine law and order, then blame me.

- Will you say that?
- I've just said it. Didn't you hear me?

- No, I mean on television.
- Of course not. It'd make me sound intolerant.

Houndsworth Council
leader, Agnes Moorhouse,

threatens to withhold police funds
and ban them from council property.

She can't do that.
Section 5 of the Police Act, 1964.

Councils must provide
an adequate and efficient police force.

She says that until the police force is 50%
black, it can't be adequate or efficient.

- She can't prove that.
- Unfortunately, her own police force

is the most inadequate and least efficient
in the country.

Everybody's terrified
that she will prove it.

Humphrey, we've got to do something
about Agnes Moorhouse.

- Her borough's practically a no-go area.
- Indeed.

- What?
- How about a strongly worded letter?

And get a more strongly worded letter in reply,
copied to the newspapers? Asking for trouble.

- Draw her attention to the law.
- She is a lawyer.

- Getting round the law is what she's paid for.
- Why not just ignore her?

Have everyone say I'd handed over control of
the inner cities to the militant loonies?

She's a wild woman, Humphrey.
No, someone's got to have a word with her.

- Point out the security implications.
- A law officer?

No. Can't be a political confrontation.
Has to be an official.

Somebody with responsibility for security.

Somebody with responsibility...

No, no, no, no, Prime Minister, no!
She's a monster!

No, I-i-it's up to Scotland Yard, the Home Office,
the Security Branch, er, Special Branch, I mean,

the... the Ml5, the Lord Chancellor,
Department of the Environment...

- The White Fish Authority?
- White Fish... No, no, no!

- Don't you coordinate the security services?
- Yes, yes...

- Or should we give that job to someone else?
- No, no, no, no, no.

That's agreed, then. A quiet word.
Come to a gentlemen's agreement.

But she's not a gentleman!

She's not even a lady!

I want YOU to handle her. Come on.

Handle her?

- Agnes Moorhouse to see you, Sir Humphrey.
- Right.

Oh, my dear lady, how very nice to meet you.
Come in. Won't you come and sit down? Now...

Um... right... Would you get Miss Moorhouse
a cup of tea. Or is it Mrs Moorhouse?

- Is my marital status really your concern?
- Er, no, no.

It's just... You know, I was just...
worried about whether the... er...

Er, would you get... her a cup of tea?

- What should I call you? Ms Moorhouse?
- Call me Agnes. What shall I call you?

Um...

well, you can call me Sir Humphrey.

Now, my dear lady...

I'm not your "dear lady". Don't patronise
me and cut out the sexist crap, OK?

Er... OK, Agnes.

I wanted us to have this meeting
so we could try and understand one another.

- I'm sure we're in agreement.
- Really?

You have your own views
about how Britain should be run,

but I'm sure we agree on a fundamental
basis of order and authority.

- That's half true.
- Half true?

- You agree, I don't.
- But it's obvious!

Yes, if you've got it made under this system,
you use authority to preserve your privileges.

What about the homeless,
the unemployed, the poor?

I know all about them.

Really? What do you know?

I've read all the published papers.
I've seen all the statistics.

Believe me, dear lady... Agnes, I... I...

- I do know all about them.
- Fine.

What does half a pound of margarine cost?

- What?
- What does half a pound of margarine cost?

Oh... er... How should I know? Er... 20p.

- 20p?!
- 2.40! I don't know!

Right. Why should you?
What time do Social Security offices open?

How long can you run a one-bar fire
with 50 pence in the meter?

I'm not entirely sure I follow.

If you knew that, you wouldn't agree about
using authority to support the system.

I do understand. I do sympathise.
It'd be marvellous if there was no poverty.

- But we haven't the resources to achieve that.
- Who hasn't?

- The nation.
- Really?

Does this desk belong to the nation?
This china?

- Porcelain.
- Porcelain.

- These portraits? Or are they your own?
- They're government property.

Oh, good.
They should fetch about - what? - 80,000.

That'll keep 20 one-parent families
for a year. What about your salary?

- That has nothing to do with it!
- Good, then we'll have that, too.

Leave you 100 a week.
That's 70,000 a year for the needy.

My salary is merely part of
a complex economic structure.

We'll simplify it.

After all, you don't want to make a profit
out of serving your country, do you?

Ah, tea.

Over here, Eileen. Um...

How very nice. Thank you so much.
Shall I be mother?

Tell me, um... Agnes...

this policy of yours
of only allowing free-range eggs

to be sold in your borough,
how does this help poverty?

Animals have rights too, you know. A
battery chicken's life isn't worth living.

Would you want to spend your life packed in
with 600 other squawking, smelly creatures,

unable to breathe fresh air,
unable to move, unable to think?

Certainly not.
That's why I never stood for Parliament.

- Sugar?
- No, thank you.

Now, let's turn to this
matter of the police.

You want to withhold funds from the police,
ban them from council property,

sack the Chief Constable,
and allow several no-go areas.

- That's it.
- But can't you see

that an adequate police enforcement
is in all our interests?

And it is especially in the interests
of all those poor, ordinary folk

who dwell in the high-crime
housing estates.

- I don't accept that.
- Oh.

You want them to be in danger
of being mugged and raped and bombed?

- Can't be helped.
- But this could lead to the overthrow

- of our system of government, our way of life!
- Yours, not theirs.

- You would be happy to abolish Parliament?
- Yes.

- The courts?
- Yes.

- The monarchy?!
- Of course.

Perhaps you'd like to burn down my office!
That matches are over here!

- No, certainly not.
- Why?

I may need it.

- You know that Agnes Moorhouse woman?
- Yes?

- I told Humphrey to have a word with her.
- Interesting experiment.

He says it went well, but he didn't want to talk
about it and had four whiskies in ten minutes.

What is it about local government?

I've had trouble with the town hall. They've
cancelled the old people's Christmas party.

- Why?
- New staff overtime agreements.

"It's your husband's fault. Tell him to give
us the money and you can have the party."

Every piece of stupidity and incompetence in
every town hall in Britain is blamed on me.

That'll be Dorothy.

I asked her up here to have a word
about that very thing. Dorothy, come in.

Come and sit down. Now, tell me,
what is wrong with local government?

Well, it's a them-and-us situation.

- The local authority ought to be us.
- Us the people or us the government?

- In a democracy that ought to be the same thing.
- We all know it isn't.

I mean us, the people.
They ought to be running things for us.

But they're running things for them. For their
power, their convenience and their benefit.

- I know that.
- So what's the answer?

- Fight them.
- No. Make them us.

- How do you mean?
- How do you stop a major government project?

Join the Civil Service.

If you're an ordinary person.

- I can't remember what that was like.
- Judging from opinion polls, you'll soon find out.

- Just imagine you're an ordinary person, Jim.
- Well, I'll try.

Imagine you want to stop a road-widening scheme
or an airport being built. What do you do?

- Write to your MP.
- That does the trick?

Of course not, but that's what ordinary
people do 'cause ordinary people are stupid.

- Is that why they elected you?
- Stop barracking, darling, please.

I'm trying to understand
what Dorothy's driving at.

Ordinary people form a group
to fight official plans they don't want

and this group represents the local people.

This group is different
from the local authority

because the local authority
doesn't really represent the local people.

- Why not?
- Councillors are all drawn from tiny local parties.

When a local community really cares
about an issue, they form a committee,

and then they talk to people
in the supermarkets and on the doorstep.

They drum up support and raise money.

And this money isn't like the rates. It's spent
on what people actually want it spent on.

I bet ordinary people would like
the old folks to have a Christmas party.

The town hall would rather
have a new town hall

or a councillors' fact-finding mission
to the Bahamas.

- What do you do?
- It's obvious. Abolish them.

Invest all power in the central government.

- That's exactly what Humphrey would say.
- See? What?

Jim, you've completely missed the point
of everything I've been saying.

The idea is to return power to ordinary people
and take it away from the town-hall machine.

- Make local government genuinely accountable.
- Yes, but how?

It's all in an article in this month's
"Political Review" by Professor Marriott.

Now, you create little voting districts.

200 or so households electing their own
little parish council, a city village.

The chairman of this little parish council is
their representative on the local authority.

You'd have about 500 councillors
to each borough.

That's right. So they'd
elect an executive council.

The local authority would have
a parliament and a cabinet.

Parliament don't elect the Cabinet.
We don't want that.

- That'd be taking participation to extreme lengths.
- These councils would.

Each councillor would be in door-to-door
contact with the people who voted for him.

Dorothy, this could be like
the Great Reform Act of 1832.

These councils are like
old rotten boroughs.

Half a dozen people deciding who'll be
in the town hall for the next four years.

- Precisely.
- And I shall be the great reformer!

Hacker's Reform Bill. I
shall introduce it myself.

The power of this country
does not lie in offices and institutions,

it lies in the stout hearts and strong
wills of the yeomen of Britain!

Women have the vote, too!

The yeowomen of Britain.

Yeopersons. Yeopeople? No.

The people of this island race.

On their broad and wise shoulders...

You can't have wise shoulders.

On their broad shoulders
and wise hearts... heads...

In their wise heads lies our destiny.

We must give back power to the people!

And I shall be the one to
introduce this... um...

What shall I call this new scheme?

Democracy?

- You wanted to see me?
- Oh, yes, Bernard.

Bernard, I want to have a word with you
about Professor Marriott's article.

- I think it's time we reformed local government.
- Do you?

Yes.

At least I think I did.

That is, I'm not wholly against it.

Although there are many... convincing, some
might say conclusive, arguments against it.

Some might indeed, Bernard.

Yes. Why?

Because once you create

genuinely democratic local communities,
it won't stop there.

- Won't it?
- Well, of course it won't.

You see, once they get established,
they'll insist on more power.

Politicians will be too frightened to withhold
them, so you'll get regional government.

- Would that matter?
- Bernard, come and sit down.

What happens at the moment if there is
some vacant land in, say, Nottingham

and there are rival proposals for its use -
hospital, college, airport?

We set up an inter-departmental committee.
Health, Education, Transport, Environment.

Ask for papers, hold meetings, propose,
discuss, revise, report back, re-draft.

Precisely. Months of fruitful work.

Leading to a mature and
responsible conclusion.

But if you have regional government,
they decide it all in Nottingham!

Probably in a couple of meetings!
Complete amateurs!

- It is their city.
- And what happens to us?

- Well, much less work.
- Yes, much less work!

So little that ministers might be able to do
it on their own, so we'd have much less power!

I don't know if I want power.

If the right people don't have power,
know what happens?

The wrong people get it!

- Politicians, councillors, ordinary voters!
- But aren't they supposed to in a democracy?

- This is a British democracy, Bernard!
- How do you mean?

British democracy recognises
that you need a system

to protect the important things of life

and keep them out of the
hands of the barbarians!

Things like the opera...

Radio 3...

the countryside... the law...

the universities.

Both of them.

- And we are that system.
- Gosh!

We run a civilised, aristocratic
government machine

tempered by occasional general elections.

Since 1832, we have been gradually
excluding the voter from government.

Now we've got them to a point
where they just vote once every five years

for which buffoons
will try to interfere with OUR policies

and you are happy to see
all that thrown away?

Well, no, no, I didn't mean...

Bernard, do you want the Lake District
turned into a gigantic caravan site?

The Royal Opera House into a bingo hall?

The National Theatre
into a carpet sale warehouse?

Well, it looks like one, actually.

We gave the architect a knighthood
so that nobody would ever say that.

Do you want Radio 3 to broadcast pop music
24 hours a day?

How would you feel if they took
all the culture programmes off television?

- I never watch them.
- Neither do I, but it's vital to know they're there!

You said local government was corrupt
and incompetent.

So it is, Bernard. So corrupt and incompetent
that even ministers recognise it.

Which means that they centralise.

They give all the responsible jobs to us.

We... are the flower of
government, Bernard.

Local government may be a dunghill...

but it grows beautiful roses.

You mean...

Yes, that's right, Bernard.

But if we try to clean up the dunghill

and... lose our balance...

- We land in the...
- Thank you, Bernard.

That's very good of you. Thank you.

So you see why I'm so worried, Arnold.

This Marriott scheme is the thin end of the wedge.
It could eventually undermine the Civil Service.

Oh, I don't think there's any danger
of that. Not if you play it right.

Hacker's just grasping at straws.

It's the old logical fallacy. All cats
have four legs. My dog has four legs...

Therefore my dog is a cat.

He's suffering from politician's logic.

Something must be done
therefore we must do it.

But doing the wrong thing
is worse than doing nothing.

Doing anything is worse than doing nothing.

After all, what is the one thing that obsesses
politicians throughout their careers?

Well, obviously publicity and popularity.
Name in the paper, face on the telly.

- Anything to help get them re-elected.
- Quite.

Government is fame and glory and importance
and big offices and chauffeurs

and being interviewed by Terry Wogan.

Opposition is impotence and insignificance

and people at parties asking you
if you know Robin Day.

But, Arnold, reforming the Civil Service
might win them popularity.

But it can't ever happen...
can it, Humphrey?

- Er... why not, Arnold?
- It's the same as in local government.

Constituencies of 60,000 are far too big
for people to know their MP.

Electors make up their minds on the basis
of the telly and the radio and the press.

Yes, they pick their
favourite party leader,

then they vote for whatever clown a few people
in their party have chosen as their candidate.

- I do understand how the system works, Arnold.
- But do you?

Listen, Humphrey, if a politician
lives or dies by his media image,

then his survival depends on
the Civil Service publicity machine

helping him with his fatuous speeches
and articles and photo opportunities.

Politicians are dependent on us.

A thousand press officers to publicise
their little triumphs.

The Official Secrets Act to conceal
their daily disasters.

So what you're saying is that
under Professor Marriott's scheme,

MPs would be elected on their local reputation
rather than on their leader's media image.

Yes, governments and ministers
would have to earn their votes.

Actually do what the electors want
instead of leaving us to do it our way

while they do the fame and glory bit.

Frightening thought.

Frightening to us,
but what about the Prime Minister?

Of course. Even more frightening.

Reforming the Civil Service would remove
his life-support system.

It would kick away the ladder
that's put him where he is.

While he's still standing on it.

That's right.

The only way to reform the Civil Service
system is to reform the political system.

No government's going to reform
the system that put it into power.

The thing is to get the Prime Minister
to see the danger.

That's your job.

I know. I'll tell him it'll be
the most courageous thing he's ever done.

That always does the trick.

Yes?

- Agnes Moorhouse, Sir Humphrey.
- Ah, Agnes.

Why don't you sit over here?

Agnes, the Prime Minister's really worried
about your attitude to the police.

Oh, good.

So he's proposing a wholesale reform
of local government.

Street representatives,
voting communities of 200 households,

total involvement of the borough electorate
in the selection of candidates.

- This isn't serious?
- Oh, I'm afraid it is.

This strikes at the heart
of our democratic social reforms.

Do you mean the people
don't want your policies?

Of course they would if they could understand,
but the ordinary voters are simple people.

They don't see their needs.
They can't analyse problems.

They need leadership to guide them.

And don't you think "the people"
would vote for such leadership?

- People don't understand what's good for them.
- Oh... I do so agree with you.

- Do you?
- Of course!

That's how the Civil Service
has survived for centuries.

We made this country what it is,
but nobody would ever vote for us!

- We know what's right for this country!
- So do we!

The only way is to have a small group in charge
and let the people have a vote every few years.

If they knew the people
they were voting for...

If they actually talked to them, they'd
fall for all the silly conventional ideas!

- Humphrey...
- Agnes?

This would be a disaster for you, too.

I know.

Community councils always lead
to regional government.

Agnes... we must stop the Prime Minister!

- You want to stop him, too?
- Of course. And you must help me.

- How?
- Well, I think I know how to do it.

I want your written assurance that you
will stop harassing your local police.

I mean, stop making them
democratically accountable to you.

It will remove some of the urgency.

Right. What do you want me to say?

Well, I thought...

it might go something like this.

Oh, Humphrey...

you're a great loss to
the militant revolution.

And you, my dear Agnes...

are a great loss to the Civil Service.

- Why does Humphrey want me to see Marriott?
- He must have an ulterior motive.

- Why?
- All Humphrey's motives are ulterior.

Has he, Bernard? What does Humphrey
really think about this plan?

Well, er... Well, I think...

That is, I'm sure, if it's what you want...

I'm sure Sir Humphrey would...

- He would... er...
- As bad as that?

- Professor Marriott is outside. Will you see him?
- Yes, of course.

- Bernard, I wonder if you'd be kind enough.
- What's your view of the Marriott plan?

It is a brilliant way of bringing real
democracy into the government of Britain.

- So you're in favour?
- That's not what he said.

If you want real democratic government,
you will have my unquestioning support.

Professor Marriott.

Professor, come in. Good of you to come.
Do sit down.

- What an honour to meet you.
- Yes, I know.

Professor Marriott has a sequel to his original
article that's due to be published next month.

It is even more exciting
than the first one.

- Tell me more, Professor.
- Tell the PM about the benefits to Parliament.

Well, as you know,
under my local government scheme,

each borough would have
its 500 street representatives.

This means the local MP would be able
to talk to them all in one hall.

They'd get to know him.

And tell all the people in their street
about him. Word-of-mouth recommendation.

- Sounds terrific.
- Where would the constituency party come in?

Ah, that's the marvellous thing.

Party organisations
would be completely bypassed.

- MPs would become genuinely independent.
- What?

If they were known to all their constituents
or their committee representatives,

then getting re-elected would be nothing to
do with whether the party backed them or not

but on whether the constituents
felt they were doing a good job.

If the MP wasn't dependent
on his party machine,

he could vote against his own party
and get away with it.

There'd be no official candidates.

Election would depend on an MP's reputation,
not the image of the party leader.

An end of the party machine.
An end to the power of the whips.

How would the government gets its unpopular
legislation through without twisting the odd arm?

- How would it command a majority?
- It couldn't.

There could only be legislation if a majority
of the MPs were actually in favour of it.

Parliament would become
genuinely democratic.

Prime Minister, it is the most courageous
policy you have ever proposed.

Professor, thank you so much.
Fascinating. Goodbye.

Thank you, Prime Minister.

Prime Minister, it's a splendid idea.

- Real democracy.
- It's out of the question.

The Marriott scheme was our way
of controlling the local authority.

- What will we do about Agnes Moorhouse?
- I've had another word with her.

To put it simply, Prime Minister,
certain informal discussions took place

involving a full and frank exchange of views,
out of which there arose a series of proposals

which proved to indicate
certain promising lines of inquiry,

which, when pursued, led to the realisation
that the alternative courses of action

might, in fact, in certain circumstances,
be susceptible of discreet modification,

leading to a reappraisal
of the areas of difference

and pointing the way to encouraging
possibilities of compromise and cooperation

which, if bilaterally implemented with
appropriate give and take on both sides,

might, if the climate were right,
have a possibility, at the end of the day,

of leading, rightly or wrongly,
to a mutually satisfactory resolution.

What the hell are you talking about?

We did a deal.

Oddly enough, she didn't seem to like the
idea of democracy any more than you.

- Or you.
- Quite so, dear lady.

Well, I think we're all agreed that the
nation isn't quite ready for total democracy.

Perhaps... er... next century?

Well, you could still be Prime Minister
next century.

- Well, the one after that.
- Yes, Prime Minister.