POSTING #86

Taking Minutes in Prime Minister Trudeau's Cabinet

I am the secretary to one of the several committees that are organizing Niagara-on-the-Lake's celebrations for the bicentennial of the War of 1812 (block off your calendars for 2012. 2013, 2014 and 2015---there are going to be lots of booms and bangs going off in NOTL and even---perhaps---Pat and yours truly parading around in period costume!).

As I record the discussions and produce the 1812 minutes, I remember the period from 1970-73 when I worked in the Privy Council Office in Ottawa and regularly took minutes in the Trudeau cabinet.

It was a fascinating period in our history with the FLQ crisis, economic and international problems and huge influxes of young people and housewives into a labour market that was struggling.

There are many stories I could tell but the problem is that cabinet is like Vegas: what happens there, stays there.  (A difference is that after 30 years, secret cabinet decisions and minutes are declassified and opened to the public. I am not sure what happens to Vegas secrets---and have no desire to find out.)

So I have a problem. Although the decisions and minutes are now released, I am still bound by precedent not to talk about what went on in cabinet that isn't in the released documents.

This means that although the purpose of this blog is to tell stories I can't tell any stories about my work during that period.

I've decided, therefore, that this posting will be different. No stories, just a description of what it was like to go into cabinet meetings and take minutes.

I don't recall ever seeing an account of the taking of cabinet minutes--- I hope you will find it interesting.

In 1970, I was seconded from Manpower and Immigration to the Privy Council Office (PCO) as part of a career development program.

As a policy officer in the PCO's  Social Policy Secretary, my job was to analyze and offer comments on cabinet documents prepared by Ministers, documents that proposed some kind of action that required approval from Cabinet. 

The first step at that time for cabinet proposals was consideration in a committee of cabinet. In our case, that was the Social Policy Committee, chaired by one of the senior social policy ministers, with 6 or 8 other ministers. The Committee's decision was then passed on to the full cabinet for consideration.

I should point out that at that time, and probably still today, there were no tape recordings or verbatim shorthand accounts of the cabinet discussions. The only records---all classified Secret---were decisions and minutes prepared by PCO officers like myself.

Could I suggest that you join me in taking an imaginary trip into the cabinet room at that time? You can perch on my shoulder.

You and I are told to go into the cabinet room at, say, 10.45 AM when it is expected that the social policy items on which we have worked will be coming up for discussion.  Minute takers are normally in the cabinet room for about three-quarters of an hour, and then spelled off by a PCO colleague.

After climbing the stairs to the second floor of the Centre Block of the Parliament Buildings, we wait beside a heavy sound-proofed door until we hear the clock in the Peace Tower strike the quarter hour.

We open the outer door, then a felt-covered inner door and walk into the cabinet room.

Across the room, sitting at the centre of a large oval table is the Prime Minister, looking natty in a well-cut suit, with a rose in his button hole. The 30 or so ministers sitting around the table are positioned according to some arcane calculus that sums up the age and importance of their departments, their own personal importance and experience within the party, and the PM's preferences.

Behind, and off to the right of the Prime Minister's is the Secretary of the PCO, my ultimate boss, who is available to give advice to the PM if called upon, and to make sure that the minutes and decisions accurately capture the discussion.

On our immediate left is a small table against the wall, which has been set up for the minute takers.

We slide into the free chair, beside a PCO colleague who is scribbling points in a secretary's notebook. The minute taker points to an item on the agenda that belongs to his committee, and we realize that cabinet is running behind. The item under discussion has to do, let's say, with the purchase of some new equipment for the military, an issue about which he is an expert and we are not.

The minute taker whispers that the cabinet is not close to a decision. If cabinet had been close to a decision, her would have stayed to record it but instead he closes his notebook and leaves the room.

We are in trouble.

We will have to produce a decision for the item by the end of the day, on an issue that we haven't studied.

We open our secretary's notebook and try to record every comment of every minister---some of whom support the proposal and some of whom oppose it---and jot down a slew of often meaningless acronyms. We don't know what is germane, important or irrelevant, so we try to record everything.

Finally, the Prime Minister steps in and tells the ministers that he senses that there is a consensus---that proposals x, y and z should be approved.

We scribble that down.

The PM then moves to the next item, a social policy proposal--- let's say that the proposal is to amend the entitlement requirements for unemployment insurance (now called Employment Insurance)---and invites the minister responsible to introduce it.

After the minister's introduction, the proposal is opened for general discussion. The debate is lively---all ministers have to deal with unemployment insurance issues raised by their constituents.

We are writing less frantically than on the previous item because we know this issue well and can use short-hand to capture the main arguments. Minister are asking serious questions and making substantive comments about the proposal.

At one point, a minister suggests that if cabinet approves the proposal, the Opposition will attack the government, and he mentions one or two arguments they will make.

Other ministers immediately join in, suggesting ways in which the government could spike the guns of the Opposition.

This is a tricky time for a minute taker. We are career public servants and professionally a-political.

We put down our pen, study our notes or our finger nails---in general we try to pretend that we are not there.

Political discussions are supposed to take place in what was called at that time (and perhaps still is) the Political Cabinet, with no public servants present----the records were kept by political staff from the Prime Minister's Office.

Although we pretend not to be following the discussion, we enjoy it. First, it lets us relax our writing muscles. And second, although we are a-political, we are interested in politics.  It is fun to be on the inside listening to what ministers have to say. And it is obvious that the ministers are enjoying the discussion as well. As everyone says, politicking is fun but governing is hard.

The PM allows the discussion to go on for a few minutes, almost it seems as a reward for all the serious and substantive work ministers have been doing in the meeting. then, he suggests that the issue be held over for the next Political Cabinet.

Having had what almost seems like a kind of recess, ministers move quickly through the rest of the social policy items.

Our 45 minutes of note taking is up and the door opens as our replacement comes in. We point to the item being discussed, close the notebook and leave the room.

We go back to our small office on the ground floor of the East Block and begin to sketch out the decisions in long hand. When we have a draft, we call colleagues and departmental officials to make sure we have understood the issues, and then give the drafts to a secretary to type (this was long before word processing!).

The decisions have to be ready in final, typed format before we---or the secretary---can leave for the day.

On the other hand, we have a few days to write the minutes, which set out the major points made in the discussions leading to the decisions.

(Click here for the National Archives site that contains a copy of a four page cabinet document that I helped write---this one discusses the student employment program for 1972.) 

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So that's what it was like to be a minute taker in cabinet in the 1970-73 period.

In that assignment and in my other work in Ottawa, I learned to appreciate the enormous burden that our parliamentary system places on ministers. They have to run departments, defend their departments in the daily question period, participate in cabinet discussions, get re-elected, help other members of parliament in their province get re-elected, and on and on.

Working at the PCO was a high pressure job with many late nights. By Friday evening, I would be totally exhausted, but ministers would be travelling home to their constituencies to spend the weekend attending fall fairs, church socials, legion gatherings---you name it.

I was---and still am--- astounded at the sheer stamina it takes to be a successful minister.

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Thinking of the demands placed on our ministers and how hard it often is for them to say 'no' reminds me of two stories.

Years ago, as I did my noon-time laps in the Chateau Laurier swimming pool, a well-known minister was toiling back and forth a few lanes away. On two occasions, one of his aides tapped him on the shoulder as he prepared to make a turn.

Each time they discussed some issue for a couple of minutes, and then the minister went back to his swim. I've often wondered what was important and urgent enough to interrupt a minister's bit of relaxation.

Probably, I guess, some issue that was going to be raised in the 2 PM question period.

Winston Churchill, on the other hand, seems to have been able to say 'no'.

This story was told by a friend, now deceased, who swore that it was true. He was a great fan of Churchill and had read almost everything written by or about the great man. I am therefore inclined to believe that the story actually took place.

According to the story, Churchill was sitting on a toilet at 10 Downing Street during World War II when an aide shouted through the bathroom door that a certain Labour  minister from the Coalition (Conservative-Labour) Government wanted to see him right away.

Although the minister was effective in running his ministry he was an unpleasant, sanctimonious fellow, whom Churchill disliked.

Churchill is reported to have roared through the door, "Tell him I can only deal with one sh-t at a time."

Now that's how you do it!

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See you on September 19th for Posting #87 with more stories from our family’s universe! If you have comments or suggestions, please leave a comment at the bottom of this posting,  or email me at johnpathunter@gmail.com.