Suchergebnisse

When the Asquith Coalition Government took office in May, 1915, the new First Lord of the Admiralty was Mr. Arthur James Balfour. His appointment to that particular position at that time was due to a number of influences, among which political exigency was by no means the least important. In the Cabinet reconstruction, Asquith had insisted that Grey at the Foreign Office and Kitchener at the War Office were not to be changed, and these reservations materially lessened the higher Cabinet posts which were available for prominent Conservatives. As a result of this delicate weighing of leaders and offices, Balfour became the most obvious choice for the Admiralty, a position for which he was well qualified on at least two other grounds. He not only held a seat in the Commons, but his experience as an unofficial consultant and member of the War Council during the previous seven months had given him a more comprehensive knowledge of the problems of the fighting services than any of his Conservative colleagues. The suitability of his appointment, moreover, was endorsed by his predecessor, Mr. Churchill, who suggested that inasmuch as Balfour had recently been in unusually close touch with events at the Admiralty, he could take over its duties with very little break in the continuity of the administration.

It is an old and well-worn charge, now re-enforced by the emergence of the totalitarian state, that democratic governments are essentially inefficient. They are especially alleged to be slow in decision, cumbersome in movement, uncertain and unduly deliberate in execution, these faults tending to become much more pronounced when the increased stresses of war make effective action imperative. But the validity of so sweeping a criticism may easily be questioned, although it is, up to a point, undoubtedly justified. For once that point is passed and a democracy is fully seized of the seriousness of the emergency, it may develop reserves of power which have been hitherto unsuspected, and display a political resourcefulness which will enable it to mould and adapt its institutions to the novel demands made upon them. Such, at least, was the experience during the last world war, and such seems to be the trend of events during the present war also. From this point of view, a survey of the Canadian effort during the past eighteen months discloses something more than the struggle of the Dominion to win the war. It also furnishes an interesting illustration of both the flexibility of democratic government and the nature of the devices which a democracy may utilize without entirely sacrificing the ideas of responsibility and popular control.In the early months of the present war the Dominion of Canada moved, in the language of the English Chancery, "with all deliberate speed." The original idea, generally held and frequently expressed, was that the war could be fought in rather leisurely fashion, that Canada could participate and at the same time limit the extent of her efforts. This seems, at least, to have been the hope of most of the people, derived partly from their own inclination, partly from the attitude of their government, and partly also by contagion from the lukewarm Chamberlain administration in Great Britain. Canadian Ministers visited England and British officials came to Canada, and all professed to be quite satisfied with the progress of events, awaiting with some complacency the slow economic starvation of Germany as an inevitable consequence of Allied encirclement. Unhappily Germany had other ideas. The disasters of last spring brought a violent awakening, and were susceptible of but one interpretation: the issue became thenceforth a simple one-win or perish.

The history of the British Admiralty, like that of the War Office, furnishes an exceptionally good opportunity for reviewing the relationship which exists between a Cabinet Minister and his subordinates. This relationship, of course, presents in all departments essentially the same general features, namely, the control of a specialized group of officials by one who, though ignorant in a technical sense, nevertheless possesses unusual competence in his own field of administration and politics. But in the fighting services parts of this picture are etched with deeper and darker lines. In the first place, there is obviously a greater disparity of talent between Minister and official than occurs in most departments, and the experts seem as a rule less able, or willing, to appreciate the political implications of the demands they are constantly making. The relationship is thus apt to be more difficult and occasionally more exacerbating; but it creates by that very fact a greater need for providing the department with a sympathetic spokesman and advocate in the Cabinet, while insisting at the same time on the absolute supremacy of the political power. In the second place, the pervasive influences of bureaucracy and departmentalism, on which the Minister must wage relentless war, occur in the fighting services in an acute and aggravated form. Officials in other departments may hold narrow and circumscribed views, but their counterparts at the War Office and the Admiralty will frequently add to those a complacent and unimaginative professionalism of their own; the fondness of a civil servant for unnecessary formalism may have a military or naval parallel in ponderous methods and obsolete techniques; bureaucratic prejudice may become red-tabbed or gold-braided intolerance; an esprit de corps may be transmuted into an un-discriminating loyalty to the ship, to the battalion, or to the service.

The generalization of Walter Bagehot that successful administration "depends on a due mixture of special and non-special minds" has lost none of its importance with the passage of time, for the problem of combining competent administration with democratic control is more urgent today than ever before. Bagehot contended that the Cabinet Minister, the "non-special mind," served a double purpose: he not only enabled a democracy to control the civil service, but he also made a genuine contribution to its administrative efficiency. The specialized civil servant, if left to his own devices, tended to become narrow in outlook, careless of the public convenience, and restricted by departmental routine; and the important secondary function of the Minister was to correct these failings by supplying a fresh mind and a different point of view.The government of Great Britain still furnishes, as in Bagehot's time, the best practical application of this principle, and the high standards maintained by many of the departments bear testimony as to its essential truth. The need for this interplay of "special and non-special minds" is perhaps best seen in the history of the War Office, a department which by its very uniqueness in several respects presents in exaggerated form both the difficulty of the problem and the virtue of the remedy. The War Office is thus considered not merely as a sample department, but one which places, as it were, a magnifying glass over the general problem of departmental administration elsewhere.

The reform of the Canadian civil service in 1918 largely destroyed the influence which the members of Parliament had been able to exert on the administrative personnel; but it apparently did not diminish their interest in the subject. Some wanted to keep in touch with the service because they hoped to discredit reform and abolish the merit system; others wished to assure themselves that their relinquishment of power did not result in its unfair use by someone else; others desired to improve the service by studying its faults in order to provide remedies which would make it more effective. The result of these mixed and even conflicting motives has been that the members have been unusually sensitive to the faults and needs of the service, and unusually desirous of keeping themselves informed of its condition. The obvious device for carrying out this purpose has been the parliamentary committee, and this form of collective surveillance has been used no less than seven times since 1918. The Royal Commission, which used to be the recognized instrument for conducting enquiries into the service, has at the same time fallen into desuetude, only one, the Beatty Commission of 1930, having been appointed in the past twenty years.

The Dominion civil service has had a more troubled history than any other part of our government, and it bears on its body the marks of many campaigns. It has been constantly under attack from all quarters; it has been the subject of almost innumerable investigations by Royal Commissions and Select Committees; and it has been exposed to three complete reorganizations since 1867, each of which has involved fundamental changes of a sweeping character. Nor can one say with any assurance that the general principles and organization of the service are as yet permanently fixed. Reactionary forces which threaten to undermine the merit system seem to be increasing in recent years, and many of the fundamental ideas on which the existing service is built are proving to be unsatisfactory. It is this phase of the problem that I would like to discuss in this paper—the civil service of to-day and the developments which may be hoped for, or guarded against, to-morrow. Much of what I shall say is old and has been stated many times before; but re-statements along these lines are imperative if the public service is to occupy its proper place in the future government of the Dominion.

John A., the Sachem, speaks:………."It must be grantedThat our friends are badly scattered,And the chances are against usIn Ontario at presentAs the country is divided.Therefore let us re-distributeWhat constituencies are doubtfulSo as to enhance our prospects;Hive the Grits where they alreadyAre too strong to be defeated;Strengthen up our weaker quartersWith detachments from these strongholds;Surely this is true to natureIn a mighty Tory chieftain!"Environment and heredity affect the development of the nation as much as they affect the development of the individual; and Canadian history is written, for the most part, around the conflicting forces of British inheritance and American propinquity. An excellent example of the latter is found in the low condition of Canadian political morality which was most conspicuous during the first fifty years of responsible government. While this was unmistakably national in many of its manifestations, its rise and continuance were due in no small measure to the proximity of the United States; and the temptation for the Canadian politician to emulate in a modest way the methods of a Tweed, a Croker, or a Philadelphia Gas Ring, proved in a deplorable number of instances to be irresistible. The prevalence of bribery at elections (particularly before the introduction of the ballot in 1874), the strengthening of the party position by the award of contracts and the appointment of supporters to office, the series of questionable "deals" and practices of which the Pacific Scandal was the most notorious—these were evidences of native sins which had received American inspiration and encouragement and which corrupted extensively Canadian political life.