THE WRITER AS BUREAUCRAT OR THE BUREAUCRAT AS WRITER?

Question: What is the strongest urge known to mankind – even stronger than sex?
Answer: the need to correct someone else’s writing.
That was my experience during my forty-plus years as a public servant.
Over the course of my career, I had to write in several capacities.
For much of the time I was employed to look at organisation structures in Defence facilities and factories. Inevitably, because they could affect people’s jobs and pay, my reports were scrutinised word-by-word, both by my superiors and those who were the subject of the reviews.
At another time I was responsible for the preparation of letters for the signature of the relevant minister. Other parliamentarians would write to the minister on behalf of their constituents or members of the public would write directly. You had to be sensitive to the underlying message the minister might wish to convey. I do not recall a time when I sent a draft up the line that my superior did not reach for his pen (in my career, it was always a man) the moment the document hit his desk. I had the comfort of knowing that his superior would do the same thing to his amendments. My overwhelming recollection was that, with each amendment, the words became longer as did the sentences. Passive voice was king. It was always ‘it is considered, recommended or advised’. We never said who did these things. However, there were times when the big cheese returned the draft having ignored all the corrections.
Submissions to the minister on matters for his decision were to be prepared to a distinct formula: dot-dash style. This made for succinct expression, but there were no brownie points for elegance. Any attempt would end up ‘on the cutting room floor’. In much the same way, cabinet submissions had to comply with strict rules. There are, no doubt, good reasons for this regimentation. Over the long term, though, the only call for creativity was in the way the truth was massaged.
In my case, the desire for creative writing withered. I wrote the occasional poem for myself or my family, but less frequently as time went on. I continued to try to write simple or plain English. But it was in a world where it is often safer to obscure the meaning than to make it clear. In my mind, I would relinquish all ownership of the work once it left my desk.
Perhaps that is the reason I have written my first novel only now that I am 80 years of age. It has taken me twenty-five years to recover.
Samuel Pepys or Winston Churchill found ways to maintain their writing standards despite the pressures of their offices. But they were at the top of the tree. We lesser mortals lived in the understory and saw little light.

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