OFF I go to Downing Street for a quick handshake with the new Prime Minister
and a briefing from M. He issues me with a rail warrant for 拢7.20, a
miniature portrait of Her Majesty and a clever little gadget that looks exactly
like a ballpoint pen. Probably because it is a ballpoint pen. My mission: to
find out how to cut the British government鈥檚 annual bill of 拢32 billion
for bureaucracy, without causing riots on the streets and 485 000 civil servants
walking out on strike. Oh, and if at the same time I can find a way to shorten
queues at Post Offices, I鈥檒l probably get a knighthood.
Clearly, some serious re-engineering of government is in order. Luckily, I鈥檝e
brought some ideas from the Computing Services and Software Association. The
problem, the CSSA says, is that government is not 鈥渃ustomer focused鈥�. It needs
to rethink itself along the lines of a service industry. I quote: 鈥淚magine a
supermarket checkout till that can pay out benefits and deduct household service
bills, a bank hole-in-the-wall that also dispenses car tax discs and TV
licences, or people transacting with government from their homes at the time of
their convenience using the phone, interactive TV or the Internet.鈥�
M is impressed. Online government: just the thing! Get out there and find
someone who can organise it.
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My first port of call is a company called Electronic Data Systems, which is
already re-engineering any part of the government it can get its hands on. The
British headquarters is in a place the corporate literature describes as
鈥淪tockley Park, London鈥�. Possibly that鈥檚 what the estate agent told them.
Stockley Park, a nicely landscaped former rubbish tip, turns out to be a hefty
taxi ride from the western extremity of the Underground system. If that鈥檚
London, I live in Trafalgar Square.
I鈥檓 not quite alone on the early train. One fellow traveller breakfasts on a
nourishing can of Tennant鈥檚 lager. The other sits and mutters to himself. As a
paid-up member of the compassionate society, I take cover behind my
Financial Times.
Neither of my fellow passengers, I suspect, works for EDS, which is a very
modern and efficient kind of company. It鈥檚 so efficient that it doesn鈥檛 even
make computers. (Actually nobody does any more. That box with a screen on your
desk is a 鈥渟olution鈥�.)
EDS doesn鈥檛 even sell computer programs, if it can help it. What it does is
鈥渙utsource business processes鈥�, which may or may not include computers. Whether
鈥渙utsourcing鈥� is a good idea depends on how good you are at running your own
business processes in-house. The government, by and large, makes a complete arse
of anything to do with computers, so EDS has been embarrassingly successful
about winning contracts to do the job. Its success has spawned a whole industry
of three-lettered competitors, deluging government departments with glossy
brochures talking about 鈥減artnerships鈥�. Most famously, it now runs a huge chunk
of Britain鈥檚 income tax system, including 3500 people who used to be civil
servants. It also runs every government computer in South Australia.
Back in Downing Street, I open negotiations with a modest suggestion. 鈥淟et鈥檚
get this straight,鈥� M says. 鈥淵ou鈥檙e proposing that we hand over the entire
machinery of government to the computer industry, cutting the civil service down
to six core ministries to set policies? You鈥檙e proposing to replace social
security offices with `public-access terminals鈥� in shopping centres? And you
want to let Rupert Murdoch bid for the contract to run the Citizen鈥檚 Charter
hotline, and Richard Branson to sell Virgin-brand national identity
蝉尘补谤迟肠补谤诲蝉?鈥�
Perhaps not all at once, I concede. Let鈥檚 start with a core government
database to link all the information available about every individual in the
country. Then, whenever someone goes through a 鈥渓ife episode鈥�, like being born,
leaving school, changing jobs or dying, they need notify only one government
office. (Or, in the case of births and deaths, get someone else to do it for
them.) Think of the extra efficiency. If there鈥檚 one thing worse than being
dead, it鈥檚 having to tell the Department of Social Security, the National Health
Service, the Passport Office and the local council about the fact.
M is worried about the question of civil liberties. The whole thing sounds
rather like a national identity scheme. No problem, I assure him: the great
British public has got used to the idea of all its movements being on video, so
a few extra computers are no worry. We can sell them anything if it鈥檚 to do with
beating fraud, especially if it means stopping foreigners going on the dole.
A dreamy look comes into M鈥檚 eyes. 鈥淎 vote-winner, even? But what if it
doesn鈥檛 work? Are we really going to hand over the entire machinery of
government to an industry which put on-off switches at the back of its
computers, which believes `/run.exe鈥� is plain English and which was astonished
by the discovery that the century would end on 31 December 1999?鈥�
I think he鈥檚 got a point there.