| | By Mick James
My correspondent John
Baker wonders if it
might not be time to
revisit the whole issue
of ID cards, consultancy
and politics in the wake
of the latest fiasco
regarding the loss of
data by HMRC. I have to
say that although I
oppose ID cards to the
extent of contemplating
civil disobedience when
they come in, I have
given up all hope that
the Government can be
deflected. There was a
faint glimmer of hope
that Gordon Brown might
ditch the whole thing
while purging himself of
the Blair legacy, but
that has surely faded.
Will the HMRC disaster
prompt a U-turn?
Ministerial statements
seem to have ruled that
out.
But where does this
leave the consultancy
industry? They will be,
after all, the "blunt
instruments" in this
particular operation. My
correspondent worries
that the scheme will
inevitably lead to risks
in terms of loss of
integrity and
reputation, lawsuits and
a further deterioration
of the public view of
consultants.
My initial thought
was that surely
consultants couldn't be
expected to carry the
can for whatever horrors
a politically-driven ID
scheme might bring, but
then I read a letter in
the Guardian from the
Open University's Dr
Ivan Horrocks. This
firmly ascribes at least
part of the blame for | |
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| | the HMRC cock-up to the
role that
"private-sector ideas,
practices and personnel
play in creating the
environment and systems
in which such failings
take place", and rails
about the number of
senior personnel
(including some past and
current ministers) who
are either on secondment
from, or who were
previously employed by,
consultancies,
concluding that "civil
servants are simply easy
targets". I have to say
this line of argument
baffles me: I'm not
clear how simply
breathing in the
poisonous air exhaled by
someone once employed in
the private sector
renders the average
civil servant capable of
acts of stunning
incompetence. Nor do I
understand why people
who give up lucrative
careers in consultancy
to become public
servants should forever
be considered to be
fifth columnists for
their former paymasters.
But it's clear that
when – and I do mean
when – something goes
horribly, fatally wrong
with the ID card system,
the consultants involved
and the consultancy
industry and anyone
who's ever been a
consultant or is married
to one will be in the
firing line. And quite
rightly so, if they've
failed to build systems
of a sufficient
robustness (and probably
still quite rightly so
if they've failed to
document and demarcate | |
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| | and design in a way that
avoids them being
scapegoated for others'
mistakes).
But the fact is that
it's pretty much
mathematically
impossible that a system
on the scale proposed
can be built to the
required levels of
integrity and security.
Let's face it, if we're
really that good,
shouldn't we be doing
something more
worthwhile with our
superpowers?
My fears around ID
cards aren't so much
about privacy and fraud
– by the time the scheme
rolls out so much
personal data will have
already been lost by the
Government that no-one
will have any privacy
anyway. It's more that
the existence of such an
exciting piece of kit as
a biometric ID card will
be jumped on by everyone
from banks and security
guards to utilities and
public libraries. If
anything goes wrong with
the system it will lead
to a kind of civil death
until it's sorted out –
which could be some time
if the details of
everyone in the country
whose name begins with J
have been accidentally
emailed to Nigeria. It
could, in fact, lead to
actual death, a point
made by a cabal of
Oxbridge professors in a
letter to the joint
parliamentary committee
on human rights, in
which they suggest the
ID schemes be suspended
"until such time that
research and development
work has established | |
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| | beyond reasonable doubt
that these are capable
of operating securely,
effectively and
economically on the
scale envisaged", which
is a very polite way of
saying, until the 12th
of Never (and that's a
long, long time).
Is it time for
consultancies to
reconsider their
involvement? That was
after all the tone of
some rather hectoring
letters sent out to
industry heads by the
Tory Party when it
finally got its act
together and decided –
albeit much too late –
to oppose. At the time I
argued that it was an
improper approach, and I
still believe that. I
don't think it's the
role of the consultancy
industry to try and
dissuade the Government
from any course, unless
specifically asked for
their advice – that kind
of pro-active
involvement is genuinely
the remit of civil
servants, or should be.
However, there's nothing
to stop individual
consultancies demurring,
as many did during the
NHS National IT
Programme.
But the problem with
these huge government
projects is that they
create a sort of vortex
into which the largest
firms are inexorably
drawn. It's not so much
the gravitational pull
of so much money –
although that can't be
ruled out. Nor is it
just the seductive lure
of technology, which has
the power to lead us | |
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| | down so many odd paths.
It's more the sheer
impossibility of having
reached the top of the
profession and not being
seen to take on
ground-breaking projects
of such scale and
complexity, such glamour
and prestige, and yes,
of such high levels of
risk.
Trying to keep
consultants away from
the ID card project
would be like trying to
keep mountaineers away
from the North Face of
the Eiger. I've always
thought mountaineers
were a bit daft but I
still can't help
admiring their pluck.
The consultancy industry
can sometimes engender
similar levels of
begrudging respect even
when it's at its most
hubristic. So while I
would warmly urge my
readers not to stick
their hands in this
particular mangle – for
my sake if not for
theirs – I know that
there's zero chance that
advice will be followed.
And while I love being
right, I do at least
hope that I never have
to revisit this
particular piece next
time I want to crow over
my success as a
Cassandra.
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