We stand at the dawn of the 21st Century.

We are Britons, and we take pride in our history and in the code of honour it teaches us.

The world looks up to us, as the epitome of decorum and dignity in service.

Now, chaps, I'm sorry to say that one or two of us have been making rather a mess of falling on our swords recently. A quick resume of the basics would seem to be in order, what?

The first thing to remember is that it's seldom necessary to go to the extreme of actually topping oneself. There are exceptional circumstances, naturally, where it would be a jolly British thing to do. When cornered by enemy forces while in possession of vital military intelligence, for example; that's always a good one.

But hang on there, old thing. Let's not forget that the modern fashion is for military intelligence to be wholly inaccurate. Before making the ultimate sacrifice, one should take a moment to consider whether squealing to Johnny Foreigner might not be a damned sight more useful. Not exactly noble, I'll grant, but who knows? Some nowadays might call it patriotic, albeit with an American pronounciation.

But I digress. There isn't all that much opportunity for "Boys' Own' heroism any more, after all. More often than not, in these faded times, the urge to end it all arises out of something altogether less elevated. Indiscretions involving journalists, for instance.

Now far be it from me to condone this reprehensible practice. I dearly wish that we could get back to the good old days when civil servants got up to nothing more mischievous than a boyfriend in the Bulgarian Embassy. Nonetheless, we do have to acknowledge that times have changed.

Not to put too fine a point on it, many of you chaps are repressed individuals muddling around the fringes of Government. People in your position never find it easy to accept that systematic mendacity towards the entire nation is a legitimate and necessary instrument of state. Many of you will be tempted to respond to some perceived injustice by having an indiscreet chat with some nauseating little scribbler with a political grudge.

I don't really have a problem with any of that. I consider it tawdry and disgusting, naturally, but it's hardly going to lead to Red Revolution or similar, now, is it? And quite honestly I expect little else, in this era of ageing grammar school boys scrabbling at the lower echelons of public office.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Where I absolutely draw the line is topping oneself out of guilt after one has gone bleating to the Press. This is simply childish behaviour, and it causes a damned sight more trouble than your kind are worth.

I address my next remarks to more senior public servants, such as retired law-lords and arbitrarily-appointed Directors of Communications. Some of these observations may even be of interest to Government Ministers, insofar as such people can be held responsible for anything.

When conducting inquiries of various kinds, it is vital to remember that the unwashed masses at your feet are programmed to commit suicide if you criticise them too harshly. This is Britain, after all. I realise that many of you were at the LSE in the sixties, and so have some difficulty grasping the public standards thing, but, believe me, this happens.

If you go for the journalist, do not be surprised when his source turns up swinging from a tree. If you pick some predictable and impressionable half-wit to concoct the verdict you want, do not be surprised if generally-decent and respected public figures tender their resignations. If you choose to play Pilate, do not be surprised when the public start chanting for the British Barrabas Corporation.

This whole thing has now become so absurd that the funny red-bearded fellow is starting to sound dignified and sensible. And the chappie who was supposed to resign over the flak-jackets, but couldn't because he was needed as the inquiry scapegoat, is still wandering around miserably in public office. If HMG isn't careful, it'll be making the Opposition look statesman-like before long.

I sympathise; I really do. It must be so difficult dealing with other peoples' concept of decency when one lacks any such thing oneself. Nonetheless, you do all rather seem to have whitewashed yourselves into a corner, what?

You'd like some advice about what to do about it? The real problem, of course, is that your smokescreen is emitting a bad smell. But you continue to need a smokescreen, don't you, what with all those annoyingly non-existent weapons still to own up to?

It'll have to be some other soft and supine organisation you blame for it all, headed by someone almost as craven as a BBC Governor. I know, why don't you stitch up the Archbishop of Canterbury? Just keep Campbell out of it, that's all. We don't need any more dead bespectacled beardies this side of the election...

The Pinniped Portfolio

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