🆕 blog! “Drinking Champagne with the Secretary of State”
This is a retropost. Written contemporaneously in February 2019, but published much later. My life is weird. Again. Looking out over London from the top floor. The Eye is glittering and the Palace of Westminster is glowing. Someone pours me a glass of (very expensive1) champagne, as the Secretary …
This is a retropost. Written contemporaneously in February 2019, but published much later.
My life is weird. Again.
Looking out over London from the top floor. The Eye is glittering and the Palace of Westminster is glowing.
Someone pours me a glass of (very expensive1) champagne, as the Secretary of State laughs at my witty bon mot.
Is this my life now? People of distinction and influence listening to what I have to say? It isn't an oak-panelled room, with deep armchairs, where cigar-smoking men carve up the world. It's a modest and plain office where men (and women!) have gathered for a bit of mutual backslapping. But I am here. I'm in the room and being thanked.
And why not! We've all worked hard on launching NHSX and are rewarded with a little audience. The chit-chat is awkward - despite the geniality, we're all aware that the boss is here.
Naturally, I believe someone is going to tap me on the shoulder and ask me what the hell I think I'm doing in a room full of proper grown-ups. But, no, people keep asking me questions and telling me their well-practiced anecdotes.
It is simultaneously amazing and banal. I've been at this work-party several times in my career, with dozens of companies, with a parade of CEOs. This feels different. A tiny glimmer of "I've made it a difference!"
I eat my fill of crisps - I am driving later - and slip out. I want to savour the moment, but know too well the perils of outstaying my welcome. I float all the way home.
Proximity to power is a powerful glamour. I understand why some are drawn to it, and some are seemingly addicted.
But I'll be different, I'm sure, as I bask in the experience.
The fizz has come from someone's home. No taxpayers' cash was splashed on booze. ↩
This is a retropost. It was written contemporaneously in 2019 - but posted in 2024. I had just been seconded to the Department of Health and Social Care to help kick-start NHSX. I kept a diary of my time there - including working through COVID. As it has been 5 years, and I no longer […]
This is a retropost. It was written contemporaneously in 2019 - but posted in 2024. I had just been seconded to the Department of Health and Social Care to help kick-start NHSX. I kept a diary of my time there - including working through COVID. As it has been 5 years, and I no longer work in Government, I thought I would publish interesting extracts from it.
My 4th day in a new job and I'm sat in a meeting with the Secretary of State.
I've been in rooms with CEOs. With celebrities. With politicians. But this is the first time I've faced someone this senior, discussing sensitive issues. It's a moment.
I'm in the room. I disassociate briefly. All of a sudden, I'm interrupting someone and making a surprisingly intelligent point. The SofS agrees with me and, seemingly, is impressed - carrying my point forward and referencing it towards the end of the meeting.
The poor chap next to me is getting eviscerated. He either doesn't know his brief - or is being deliberately evasive. The atmosphere is congenial - but there's an undercurrent of menace. The guy is floundering, and the SofS is... not exactly merciless, but lets the guy know he isn't falling for the patter.
I'm simultaneously glad I'm not in the firing line - and worried that I'll one day find myself out of my depth.
The meeting ends and I'm formally introduced. He seems pleased to have me on board - I'm just glad I didn't make a complete fool of myself. And mildly impressed that he actually knew what he was talking about when it came to the details of technology.
That evening, my Great Aunt Sonia dies - aged 90. She had been gently cared for by the NHS. And the work I'm doing suddenly feels a lot more viscerally real.