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With the abolition of the Audit Commission the sector will lose a vital, authoritative voice says Derek Myers Rest In Peace Audit Commission – we will remember you well. True, it will live on for another couple of years as it hands over auditors and their back files but the spirit must now have died and although a proper assessment of its worth requires distance, this demise is worth a few kind words. For my generation of late baby boomers, the commission has been ever present. The idea famously was Michael Heseltine's, whom we should recall was one of the very few effective government ministers in recent times to have enjoyed a successful career in business. He understood how big organisations worked. In 1983, as part of a set of measures as secretary of state at the then Department of the Environment he re-imagined the rather dull and dusty profession of public auditors into something more magical, with wide powers to use their new enhanced independence to publish unsolicited critiques of local authority habits and ministerial directions. Audit was not new – its roots go back 170 years – but new was the idea that the business of local government deserved intellectual enquiry. This was sufficiently bold to seem risky and the first controller, John Banham, said that commission was such ‘an unknown quantity' and ‘the attitude of a possible incoming Labour administration so uncertain' that these risks needed to be acknowledged by a salary premium of 25-30% for the new staff he wished to hire. The controller himself, joining from McKinsey at a salary discount, was reportedly the highest paid public servant in Britain. However, the belief in the contribution the commission could make was such that the means were willed to achieve the end. Over 27 years, more than 250 reports have been published, many with rather cute, punning titles. Not all of these have been read with the attention that their authors deserved. All were competent; some were genuinely radical and prompted unexpected public policy changes. In the early days the 1986 report Making a Reality of Community Care exposed the fundamental financing flaws of the proper move of individuals from long term NHS institutions. It led to the Griffiths Report which led to the 1990 Act – still the key legislation for adult social care today – and arguably the last time local government was trusted with a sizeable new responsibility. After 1997 the Blair relaunch of the welfare state was eventually based around a unilateral bargain: a ladleful of sugared resources would follow but only to be swallowed with the medicine of ‘reform.' And the commission saw its chance to become the Government's matron, seeking to ensure reform was routine and introducing naming and shaming as the new incentive. This was not just inspection – other service inspectorates did this too, and sometimes better – it was a valuing of contributions that high performing organisations need but others dismiss or resent. The commission's staff were interested in corporate planning, innovation, leadership and relations between members and officers. All these previously private vices became behaviours fit for public discussion. And it was an important antidote to parochialism. What happened in Hackney, Lambeth or Doncaster became not private embarrassment, but public debate. CPA made and broke careers and led to positive change. Far more important, it provided – for the first time – a way for local government to prove it was improving and achieving. CPA ran its course and CAA was a natural, ambitious development. It was a proper attempt to capture the effects of the combined efforts of multiple agencies, but ended up with a product too bland, too compromised, to be a cattle prod for change. The era of prescription had already recorded its highest tide. Along the way the commission has shown fraud is too common, but can be detected and that it could be the scourge of poor registered housing providers. It showed too much of the data in the NHS was flawed and that NHS financial management was a weak link. Although managers resented this constant presence; this relentless enquiry, wise heads welcomed the loyal maintenance of the belief system that the skills of public sector political and officer leadership could and should make a difference. Now the commission is slain and its independence punctured far more easily than its previous reputation might have anticipated. For my generation it is somewhere between hearing of the death of an old headmaster – stern, unloved, but respected – and the final break up of a masterful, old rock band. You may not always have liked the songs but you vaguely feel that the music that follows might be more tinny and ephemeral. There are plenty of busy, interesting think tanks who will offer future commentary. The sector itself should stand up for its own research and development. But be in no doubt that the sector has lost a vital, authoritative, authorial voice. And regret is due. Derek Myers is chair of the SOLACE management board and chief executive of Kensington & Chelsea RLBC

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WHITEHALL

Believe it or not we'll miss the Audit Commission

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