So, the Government wants to move 12,000 civil servants out of London – and not just the junior roles this time, but the mandarins too. Under a new push to “level up” the civil service, the aim is to have half of senior officials based outside the capital by 2030. Departments have until 11 June to submit their blueprints for mass relocation.
But here’s the rub: if ministers are in Whitehall, and top advisers are in Aberdeen or Newcastle, how exactly is government supposed to function efficiently? By Zoom? Spare us. As anyone who’s had the misfortune of enduring endless virtual meetings can confirm, the quality of discussion and decision-making is invariably poorer than in-person encounters. A capital city without its senior civil servants is a recipe for miscommunication and delay.
Let’s acknowledge the positives first. Manchester and Aberdeen will benefit, each set to host major government “campuses” – digital innovation and AI in Manchester, something similar in Aberdeen. That will be welcome for regional economies and offer symbolic decentralisation. But it’s also an implicit admission that we’re abandoning the greatest strength of our existing set-up: proximity.
Whitehall isn’t just a street; it’s a system. Ministers and civil servants walk between departments, meet informally, cross paths in pubs and cafés, and share a common space close to Parliament. The genius of this arrangement – refined over decades – is that it allows for fluid, responsive governance. Move half the team hundreds of miles away, and the glue that holds the machine together starts to dry up.
What’s really going on here is not bold reform, but penny-pinching dressed as progress. The Government wants to close 11 office buildings and save £94 million a year by 2032. Sounds frugal. But at what cost? When we flog off prime Westminster buildings, like the former War Office – now a swanky hotel – or Crown Post Offices, we sell off institutional memory and utility, not just bricks and mortar. Once gone, these sites don’t come back into public hands.
And before you argue that these buildings are outdated – fine. Knock down Petty France, if you must. No one will shed a tear. But don’t pretend you’re strengthening the civil service by parceling it out like cheap real estate. The Department of Health’s post-war monstrosity on Victoria Street may lack charm, but it’s a five-minute walk from Parliament. That matters.
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Then there’s the human element. Let’s be honest – how many top civil servants will leap at the prospect of swapping central London for Darlington? Many joined the service to be in London. They wanted to be near the action. That’s not snobbery, it’s practicality. London remains the gravitational centre of the country’s political, financial, legal, and media life. That’s why ambitious people want to come here – and why forcing them away risks losing talent.
Of course, it’s equally maddening that many of those still based in London don’t come into the office more than three days a week. The culture of home working, emboldened since Covid, has lingered. The Public and Commercial Services Union is more concerned with “flexibility” than effectiveness. But flexibility, in this case, often means absenteeism. And absenteeism costs us all.
Here’s a radical proposal: don’t exile civil servants to the provinces. Bring them back to the office. Make Whitehall leaner, smarter, and properly staffed. If we want good governance, we need civil servants close to ministers, not working in silos or hiding behind screens. The best reform is not dispersal, but discipline. A government run from its capital city, in person, not online. Now there’s a thought.
