Why Britain’s public services are so bad

Bo Fredriksson was a beekeeper and a prison warder. He pursued both activities with dedication and kindness, in part because that was his nature but also because of a conviction that this was the way he would achieve the best results. Judging by the honey he gave me, the bees certainly responded happily to his treatment as, I suspect, did the prisoners.

But the reason Bo, a Swede who lived and worked near Gothenburg, came to mind recently was because of the enormous pride he took in both his callings, a feeling which cannot be much in evidence in the UK’s prison service at the moment.

To lose one prisoner is unfortunate, although, given the numbers going through the system, not entirely surprising; to lose several does look like carelessness or sheer incompetence. There will, no doubt, be staff, prison officers and governors, striving to do their very best despite odds being heavily weighted against them.

The same is true of the National Health Service, the Post Office and every other branch of the public services. Yet a sense of pride in being a public servant seems to have been almost completely eradicated, trampled down by a relentless spiral of errors, cover-ups, criticism and vilification which, inevitably, leads to tumbling morale, difficulties in recruitment and retention to the extent that allegations of incompetence become self-fulfilling.

Some would argue that the state simply tries to do too much and should concentrate on doing less but doing it more effectively. Wherever one stands on this political philosophy, the fact is that the UK government’s tax take is running at near record levels and, even though a hefty tranche of that goes straight to service the interest charge on the country’s debts, it is hard to argue that taxpayers are getting value for money.

Another theory is that the decline in public services began with privatisation. Its adherents argue that an emphasis on profit rather than the quality of the service was inevitable and they can certainly cite the fate of the water companies as glaring evidence of their case, although better regulation could have curbed the more egregious behaviour exhibited by the profiteers. The many travellers who had their commuting made a misery by striking railworkers or customers who waited months for the installation of a new British Telecom phone line will recall that public services could be dire before privatisation occurred.

But now the problems of low morale, poor delivery and a decrease in the calibre of staff is infecting the core of the entire public service structure, the central Civil Service. There has long been a drift from the Treasury to the private sector: bright young economists, having notched up a few years working there, could move to an investment bank and probably treble their salary, making the possibility of actually buying a house in London more than a never-to-be realised dream.

Nevertheless, sufficient numbers of high-flyers chose to remain in Whitehall, and despite the traditional lampooning of them as a brigade of bowler-hatted pen-pushers, the upper echelons were clever, committed and proud of their role in the running of the country, happy to be seen as public servants.

What has changed? Modern media, its ubiquitousness and tendency to distort, sometimes dangerously so, has had an impact, just as it has on every walk of life. Equally, a growing cynicism militates against any tendency to enjoy a sense of pride in simply doing a relatively mundane job, but doing it well.

For those in public-facing roles, the lack of tolerance and sometimes downright rudeness from their clients is at a level unseen by previous generations. On public transport, in passport offices and post offices and everywhere these nominal servants meet their public, there are signs exhorting people to behave properly and not abuse the staff. That this should be deemed necessary is comment enough on the potential downside of these roles.

Sadly, Bo is no longer available to venture his opinion on why things have degenerated to this extent. My suspicion, though, is that, as ever, the problem stems from the top. It is not “the man from the ministry” who is to blame but the minister. The constant shuffling of government ministers and the pointless rejigging of the departments they, at least theoretically, run militates against the development of a strong and effective culture. The obsession with setting pointless targets which generates extraordinary efforts to manipulate results to demonstrate success, which is anything but that, has become endemic, whichever political party is in power.

The reluctance of ministers to take responsibility when things go wrong has also had a pernicious effect on the civil service which seeps down through the ranks. Ministers do resign, but only under extreme duress and then, it seems, only because of failings which are very much their own, be it a failure to deal correctly with their tax affairs, financial ties to questionable regimes or demonstrable flouting of laws he imposed on the obedient nation.

The ultimate owner of the Post Office as it persecuted thousands of innocent sub-postmasters was the government but despite the disastrous saga of suicides, ruined lives and a massive, mounting compensation bill, no politician has pleaded guilty and taken any share of the blame.

Similarly with the infected blood scandal, perhaps one of the worst betrayals of trust ever performed by the NHS. The massive compensation bill will have to be met by taxpayers but no government minister has paid the price for the original sin, or the prolonged cover-up and reluctance to pay those affected.

If the people who should be ultimately responsible for ensuring that the public is well served choose to prevaricate and dodge and, if necessary, blame the servants rather than the master, is it any wonder that pride in the job is replaced by resentment and carelessness?