Special advisers: A useful and welcome part of Whitehall

The Paul Richards column

I have spared a moment to look up from my copy of “A Journey”, the fastest-selling autobiography of all time, to consider the plight of Christopher Myers. Myers was, very briefly, a special adviser to the foreign secretary William Hague. He resigned this week after Paul Staines reported on his blog that he and Hague had shared a hotel bedroom. Hague has denied any impropriety, but the young man has had to go anyway.

I feel enormous sympathy for him. The story has gone from internet gossip to front-page news within a single news cycle, and his resignation has been brutal and swift. It has raised lots of questions about the role of special advisers, and revealed, yet again, the colossal degree of ignorance about their role and function.

Special advisers are a useful and welcome part of Whitehall. They are party political people, whose loyalties lie with the secretary of state who appoints them. Their appointment is within the gift of the secretary of state, and must be approved by the prime minister, so David Cameron will have signed off the appointment of Christopher Myers. Most secretaries of state get two SPADs – one to handle the media, one to handle policy matters, although the lines can become blurred. They often follow them to other departments after a reshuffle, and lose their jobs the moment the politician loses theirs. The SPADs to David Blunkett, Peter Hain, Alan Milburn and others were booted out of their offices as soon as their bosses lost their jobs, sometimes with little or no warning, and at times with the news coming first from Sky News.

They are paid for by the taxpayer, because they aid effective governance. They reinforce civil service impartiality, because as long as there is a SPAD, no civil servant should be asked to perform any ‘political’ act in breach of the civil service code. Mr Myers was on a salary of £30,000, the lowest SPAD salary possible. Under Labour, SPADs earned a wide range of salaries, mostly around the £60,000 mark, with one or two earning six figures. David Cameron said he would reduce the number and cost of SPADS, but has failed to do so. Like so much else, a pledge made in Opposition looks very different once in power.

It is unusual for a SPAD to share a hotel room with their boss. I never did it, nor do I know anyone who did. But the relationship between a SPAD and their boss can be a close one, developed on long train journeys, in the green room before big interviews, at the party conference, and in elections. The SPAD shares the triumphs and disasters, the tantrums and tears. Part of the role is emotional – a shoulder to cry on. Rarely are SPADs policy experts, although they may develop expertise in the role. The civil service is full of policy experts. SPADs are political people, with political experience, skills, contacts and above all political antennae which can predict problems ahead. Mr Myers is not unusual for being young, with a constituency political background, and being appointed as a SPAD. When Labour came in in 1997, there were plenty of advisers in their 20s, with only political hackery on their CVs. Myers was not advising William Hague on Iran’s nuclear ambitions or the middle east peace process; he was a political bag-carrier, an extra pair of arms and legs.

The strength of Hague’s denial, and his willingness to talk in very personal terms about his marriage to Ffion, suggest that there is nothing in these rumours. If there is, you can be absolutely sure that it will come out, as every Fleet Street newsdesk is now looking for evidence. If they find it, it may by Mr Hague who is resigning, not merely his SPAD. If there is nothing, then a young man’s career as a SPAD has been prematurely and unjustly brought to an end because of something on a blog. Any sense of schadenfreude should be outweighed by a profound sense of unease.

Paul Richards was a Labour special adviser in three departments between 2005 and 2009. His latest book Labour’s Revival is published at the end of this month.