The mandarins of the Treasury have a unique place in the British establishment. Unlike their counterparts in other branches of the civil service, they occupy territory commonly associated with Machiavelli at one end of the spectrum and Attila the Hun at the other.
In the TV series Yes, Minister, Sir Humphrey was a Treasury mandarin incarnate: urbane, ruthless and possessed of a very definite idea of what was best for Britain. And if that was what was best for the civil service, it was a happy coincidence, naturally.
In the last couple of decades that enviable myth has taken a bit of a battering. There have been accusations that the long years of Thatcherism coupled with the natural prejudices of their class had done much to damage the fabled neutrality of the civil service mandarins in general and the Treasury in particular - a charge its opponents were only too happy to repeat.
Add to that volatile mix the early 1990s bust, the debacle of Britain's exit from ERM (the Exchange Rate Mechanism) and Norman Lamont's resignation as Chancellor of the Exchequer and the Treasury had reasons to feel under siege.
This, according to Mr Lipsey, was shown by the standing ovation given to the new Chancellor, Mr Gordon Brown, when he entered the Treasury building in Whitehall as officials lining the staircases who had suffered under the rudderless Major years felt that anything would be better than what had gone before.
Mr Lipsey is quite good on the politics of the early Blair/Brown years as a Labour government unused to high office and suspicious of the Treasury fought to put its stamp on things. Officials felt that they were back at the top as Mr Brown's stature, a "big beast" of the political jungle, allowed the Treasury to reassert control over other departments which had flexed their muscles in the bad days of the Tory regime. The flip side of this was that Mr Brown was, and is, strong enough to go his own way and listen to his own lieutenants as evidenced by his liberation of the Bank of England.
Mr Lipsey's account of the anguish of senior officials as the likes of Messrs Ed Balls and Charlie Whelan (until recently) shouldered them aside is palpable and was seized on as further proof that spin and politics had become more important than expertise and training.
However, Mr Lipsey points out that the period since the first flush of power has witnessed a settling down with both sides working well together and the department basking in the reflected glory of what is seen as Mr Brown's adroit handling of a hugely complex brief.
Mr Lipsey goes to some lengths to dispel the myths surrounding the Treasury and points to senior mandarins wearing loud check suits, plastering their sombre offices with posters of Marilyn Monroe and delighting in sinking pints in the boozer after work.
But he admits that by and large they are products of private schools, Oxbridge and predominantly male. His publication of who's who shows a marked lack of women amongst the top echelons and many of his sources point to an esprit de corps reminiscent of an Eton changing room rather than the local mixed comprehensive.
Mr Lipsey writes in a restrained style which admirably complements his subject and his research. This is a solid and informative look at the workings of one of the cornerstones of the British establishment and deserves to be bought by those interested in how our neighbours do business.
comidheach@irish-times.ie
