How to meet a Minister

While musing on my recent meeting with Margaret Hodge (also on 19 November, like the Sponsored Slim weigh-in), it occurred to me that I’ve probably met more Library Ministers than most of the readers of this blog.  So here’s a guide for the inexperienced.

The meeting will actually begin about ten days before the meeting when an Official will ask you for a briefing on what you intend to discuss with the Minister.  The Official will then brief the Minister on the basis of your briefing so that in the meeting itself the Minister is briefed about your brief before you brief the Minister.  This is an attempt to prevent any real conversation breaking out between you and the Minister.

Your briefing is important – it will be circulated to lots of Officials so it’s a good opportunity to get your message across.  But it’s a good idea to leave out a couple of key points so that you can introduce an element of surprise into the actual meeting.  This keeps the Officials on their toes and may prompt a moment of real discussion with the Minister.

When you arrive for the meeting you’ll probably get to sit in two waiting rooms – the general one in the lobby and then one near to the Minister’s office (nicer furniture, more magazines, lots of glossy Departmental policy leaflets).  Use this time to practice sitting on a squashy sofa looking relaxed but alert and attentive.  Trial by comfy chair is a key part of the meeting-the-Minister experience.

Eventually a Bright Young Thing (BYT) will arrive to take you in to the Minister’s office.  The BYT will be one of three Officials in attendance and will have the job of getting you in and out of the room, ordering the coffee, taking the notes, and learning the ropes.  One of the other officials will be the Minister’s adviser (the one who asked you for the briefing).  The real function of the third official has always eluded me but it’s probably to keep the other two in order in some faintly sinister politburo sort of way.

When you’re ushered in to meet the Minister several important things will happen at once so be ready to make some rapid decisions.  There’ll be nowhere to put your coat and bag – perhaps only Secretaries of State are allowed coat hangers in a sort of Dilbert cubicle status hierarchical arrangement.  Dump your coat and bag on the floor in a messy heap, taking care to keep this out of the Minister’s direct line of sight – they don’t like to be reminded that they haven’t reached coat hanger status on the greasy pole of political preferment. 

The comfy chairs will be arranged round all four sides of a large rectangular coffee table – think Habitat living room circa 1970 or any current TV ad for one of those sofa superstores.  Sit at right angles to the Minister and opposite the Officials.  This clarifies the dynamics of the meeting, helpfully, at the outset – you’re onside with the Minister and any confrontation is likely to be with the Suits.

And say Yes when the BYT offers you tea or coffee.  A cup is a great prop when the politburo type who’s been giving you the beady eye for twenty minutes suddenly breaks silence to ask an unscripted question.  A bit of “business” (as Thespians put it) with the cup will give you a moment to think of a suitable answer.

So, it begins.  A brief moment of pleasantry and then it’s down to business – the Minister has a diary full of these meetings and doesn’t want to hang about.  “Over to you” (or similar) the Minister will say, and four pairs of eyes will look at you expectantly.  The next 45 minutes are yours – use them well …

Oh yes, my actual meeting with Margaret Hodge – I’ll tell you about that on another day.