Government responsibility for IT is fragmented and rests within
each department. Michael Cross examines the key decision makers and
considers the issues involved in bringing them together to create
IT policy that delivers clear benefits.
Nowadays the Government seems to have more tsars than a Romanov
family séance. We have seen the appointment of a drugs tsar, a
homeless tsar, a cancer tsar and a tsar to look after the interests
of the elderly.
Although the imperial titles are not official, ministers rarely
object to their use. By appointing a high-profile individual to
take charge of a major issue that cuts across departmental
boundaries, ministers can at least be seen to be doing something
about the problem.
With few issues impinging more on departments than IT, is it not
time to appoint an IT tsar, perhaps with a title like Her Majesty's
Chief Information Officer? Ministers certainly seem to be moving in
that direction within departments, though not across government
departments as a whole.
The highest profile departmental tsar is the NHS's recently
appointed director-general of IT, Richard Granger. He is charged
with running a £5bn modernisation programme across an organisation
employing 1.2 million people. This is the first time in NHS history
that an individual, or even a single organisation, has been put in
charge of all IT issues.
In hiring Granger, the Department of Health was following the Home
Office's lead late last year when it appointed Jo Wright,
previously of IBM, as its director general of IT. Wright has an
almost equally daunting job - to get different components of the
criminal justice system, such as police forces, prosecutors and
probation services, sharing information.
Divided loyalties
However, like their illustrious
predecessor Nikolas II, these new departmental tsars may find it
difficult to exercise authority. Granger, for example, is supposed
to run his empire through a network of 28 chief information
officers appointed by strategic health authorities. The snag is
that these officers are being recruited locally, at advertised
salaries of up to £100,000, and so may feel greater loyalty to
their local authority than to the central agenda championed by the
tsar.
When lines of interest run across the government machine as well as
up and down it, the picture becomes even more complex. Different
departments frequently have different IT priorities - the Home
Office for example is more interested in fighting crime than
encouraging e-commerce. The latest falling out is between the
Department of Health, which is trying to reduce the number of IT
companies supplying the NHS, and the Department for Trade and
Industry, which is trying to nurture start-ups in this area.
Conflicts of this kind generally end up at the desk of the e-envoy,
Andrew Pinder, at least when he hears about them. But Pinder,
despite his direct line of communication to the prime minister, is
a long way from being a chief information officer.
Pinder's main responsibility is to nurture the e-economy: his
urgent target is to make the UK the best place in the world for
e-commerce by 31 December 2002. His other tasks are to end the
digital divide and to ensure that all government services are
available electronically by 31 December 2005.
This last responsibility takes him deep into the realm of
government IT systems. The snag is that Pinder has no direct
responsibility for IT projects in individual government
departments. He also has no power whatsoever over the organisations
responsible for handling 80% of government transactions with
citizens - local authorities.
The Office of the E-envoy, made up largely of the old Central IT
Unit (CITU) and Central Computing and Telecommunications Agency
(CCTA) is part of the Cabinet Office. When the national strategy
for local e-government is published on 28 October 2003, it will
come from the Office of the Deputy Prime Minister.
Ministerial absence
Another glaring gap is at
ministerial level. Derek Wyatt, Labour MP for Sittingbourne and
Sheppey and an Internet enthusiast, has been pointing this out for
years. "I've always said there should be a Chancellor of the
Exchequer and a Chancellor of the Internet," he says.
But even Wyatt concedes that the Government is moving in the right
direction. He welcomes the appointment of Stephen Timms, minister
of state for e-commerce and competitiveness, in last May's
mini-shuffle. However Timms does not sit in the Cabinet - the
"e-minister" at Cabinet level remains his boss Patricia Hewitt,
secretary of state for trade and industry.
That's too far from the real centre of power, says Wyatt. "Timms
should be in the Cabinet Office, not the DTI. It can't be left to
separate policy wonks in different departments."
The Cabinet Office, of course, has its own e-ministers. Lord
Macdonald of Tradeston runs the overall modernisation programme,
but has passed most of the e-government portfolio to Douglas
Alexander, minister of state.
As for local e-government, the minister responsible is Nick
Raynsford, minister of state in the Office of the Deputy Prime
Minister, though Christopher Leslie MP, a mere parliamentary
undersecretary, seems to be picking up the day-to-day tasks.
Civil service power base
But the one individual who
holds more power than anyone else over government IT projects does
not sit in Parliament, nor is he a career civil servant. He is
Peter Gershon, chief executive of the Office of Government Commerce
(OGC). This Treasury agency was set up in 2000 to sharpen up the
government's shopping skills. Although Gershon's first targets were
bulk commodity purchases such as water and electricity, more and
more of his time is taken up trying to reduce the mis-management of
IT projects. Both the Ministry of Defence and Department of Health
have voluntarily submitted their IT projects to scrutiny under the
OGC's Gateway Review process, originally set up for civil central
government only. Local authorities are likely to follow suit.
The OGC's power stems partly from the Treasury connection and
partly from the personality of Gershon himself. The former chief
executive of BAE Systems has the intellect of a civil service
mandarin coupled with a steely ruthlessness honed while running a
major defence company. Gershon shows no particular enthusiasm for
IT for its own sake and is a merciless critic of sloppy thinking,
whether it comes from civil servants, politicians or industry.
All are excellent qualifications for an IT tsar. Even his name has
historical resonance. But whether Tsar Gershon would be remembered
as Peter the Great or Peter the Terrible has yet to be seen.