The assistant director (internal organisation) (clerical, grades II to III only), Dublin Branch, in the Department of Health took his seat before the special outside consultant brought in to examine the state of affairs in the Department, writes Kevin Myers
The consultant was examining a file, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
"It says here that you earn €150,000 a year, and that you are the civil servant who decided to fight the Army deafness claims tooth and nail, even though legal advice was that the Department should settle," he said. "This has cost the Government the best part of a billion euro. So how are you now in such a well-paid position in another Government Department?"
The civil servant laughed lightly. "Because the thousands of claims resulting from my policy gave me some experience of handling big budgets. The Army deafness scandal was a turning point in my career."
"But you helped cause it," declared the consultant, wonderingly.
"We make decisions. You win some, you lose some. That's life." The civil servant smiled.
"But initially you were demoted after that, I take it."
"No, no, no, indeed not. Because my budget had increased, I had to be promoted to spend it."
The consultant looked on, somewhat perplexed. "So the greater your failure, the greater your promotion - is that it?"
"Only an outsider, inexperienced in the ways of government, would perceive expenditure as failure. No indeed. Eventually, my budget rise was so large that the only Department able to exploit the full range of my spending expertise was Health, to which I was then transferred. I was - of course - paid disturbance money for the move, under the agreement between the Government and my union, SICKTU."
"Of course," said the consultant, his ironic tone lost on his respondent. "And I see you were for a while in charge of running the contagious diseases section of the Department. In what capacity were you responsible for developing a policy towards the state of Hepatitis?"
"I'm sorry, this is the Department of Health, not Foreign Affairs. I'm not too hot on all those new trans-Caucasian republics."
The consultant paused for a moment. "Have you even heard of Hepatitis C?" Again the civil servant laughed lightly. "Is that the one between the Caspian and the Black Sea, with all the pollution? Well, I'm sorry for all those dead fish, but I've got my hands full here. Health boards to run. Personnel to manage. Internal anti-racism training among the workforce to enforce. It's all go, I can tell you."
"Tell me, after the expenditure of money, what is the primary purpose of the Department of Health?"
"The primary purpose? The primary purpose? Ha ha ha. That's good. I like that very much. A trick question, right? It's no use, you can't fool me. Our job is to employ people, to prove to the private sector that wealth creation by non-union companies isn't everything. We can't have clever-clever companies like Ryanair and Intel politically out-muscling the public service. And so far it's working. Any other questions?"
"What about your patients?"
"Good question. We need a lot of patience in the public service, because it can take a long time to get things done. Memos go missing. Ministers say they haven't seen this document or that document. I'm glad you recognise we need lots of patience. It's about time someone did. You're a man like myself: on top of his job."
Something resembling a twitch began to tug at the consultant's left eyelid. "What was your role in the HIV affair?"
The civil servant stared with a look of polite blankness on his face. "Not really my line of work, I'm afraid. Heavy Industrial Vehicles - is that it? Well, they're more Department of the Environment, I'm afraid. Or possibly Department of Justice. Sorry. Next question."
The ensuing pause was long, and the voice that broke it slightly hysterical. "I'm now going to ask you about the illegal confiscation of pensions belonging to long-term residents of so-called care homes. What is your opinion on that?"
The civil servant smiled politely. "To tell you the truth, I haven't got one. When I retire, I'll be on a lifelong, index-related pension worth two-thirds of my salary, as well as enjoying an end-of-career tax-free bonus. No, no, thank you for worrying about my twilight years, but there's no question of a residential home for me. But it's so nice of you to ask. Do you know, I really am enjoying this little session. Next question."
There was the rumble of a volcano preparing to blow as the consultant struggled to breathe. From the top floor of Hawkins House, one of the tallest buildings in the city centre, he could see across the city to a slightly denuded Ballymun, where a tower had only the other day been blown up. The wrong high building, he reflected, and in the wrong part of town.
Inside him, the volcano suddenly whimpered and died.
"No," he whispered, "no more questions."