Decentralisation could come back to taunt us

Business Opinion: The scene opens. Late November in the year 2007 and we are in the Taoiseach's office. It's a week before Budget Day. Two men are drinking coffee.

Taoiseach: So Minister, your 10th Budget. What have you got up your sleeve this time?

Minister for Finance (for it is he): Not much, Taoiseach. Usual stuff in the speech. Tell them all how great I am, then claw back those crazy tax cuts of our first term with small rises in the PAYE and nothing on personal allowances. I'll say something about how much I oppose tax relief schemes and then extend them all for three years. Then finish up chucking a few quid at the poor in the social welfare budget.

T: Good. Sounds a bit dull. What about the middle class PAYE types?

MF: What about them, Taoiseach?

T: What are we doing about them?

MF (puzzled): I don't understand. We never do anything for them.

T: I know that. But what are we going to do this year to distract them from realising what a rubbish Budget it is?

MF: Now I'm with you. You want to know this year's spectacular?

T: Exactly.

MF (with pause for dramatic emphasis): We are going to announce the centralisation of the civil service.

T: What?

MF: We will amalgamate the various bits of the Government Departments from around the country in Dublin to improve efficiency. We'll say it will save a fortune in overheads; taxis, civil service mileage, overtime, teleconferencing etcetera. Then I'll promise to use the money to finish the Dublin-Cork motorway.

T: Isn't finished yet? Never mind. They aren't that stupid.

MF: The middle classes? Well, they fell for the smoking ban wheeze in 2003.

T (smiling): I forgot that. They spent the whole year worrying about that while the health service fell apart.

MF: And don't forget decentralising the civil service in 2004. It worked a treat.

T (warming to the idea): Remember the Irish Sea Tunnel in 2005? We got six months out of that before saying it couldn't be done.

MF (chuckling): And joining NATO in 2006. It was a masterstroke.

T (laughing): I remember. What did we do in 2007?

MF: That was this year. We had the election. We chucked money at everything. Have to get some of it back next year.

T: Ah yes. Hmm... It would be nice to have the old gang back in town. Kildare Street hasn't been the same since we turned the Department of Agriculture into a hostel for rural TDs. The Shelbourne is always complaining about the noise. Get your secretary general to talk to my man. Make it happen.

MF: That's the difficult part, Taoiseach. I haven't seen him for two weeks.

T: What?

MF: He left our Tullamore base for a meeting with revenue staff in Athy. Or was it Kilrush? It might have been Listowel. Anyway, he didn't turn up for a scheduled meeting he was meant to have on the way with the Civil Service Commission in Youghal. There was, however, an unconfirmed sighting of him at the Department of Agriculture headquarters in Portlaoise yesterday.

T: Never mind. Announce it on Budget day anyway. He'll turn up sooner or later.

MF: Absolutely. I am sure the other 450 or so civil servants classified as "missing in action" will eventually make it back to headquarters.

T: Ah yes, that Bring Our Boys Back Home crowd are building up quite a head of steam.

MF: Quite. All those mothers on the Joe Duffy Show, We don't need it.

T: Absolutely. Hang on. You aren't going to bring the Office of Public Works back to Dublin are you?

MF: Oh yes. We have to have them all back or it won't be a credible spectacular.

T: That could cause problems.

MF: Don't worry. I have sounded out the Minster in question. He understands.

T: Really? He doesn't mind?

MF: Of course. He accepts that now 51 St Stephen's Green has been renovated as the Taoiseach's residence it simply wouldn't be suitable as the OPW headquarters.

T (relieved): Excellent. That's settled.