When former roles refuse to retire

Continuing from where we stopped last week, I recall that during my days in service, I came across several Chief Secretaries who longed to be in charge of one of the departments under them, just to enjoy once more the kick of action.

Secretaries to government, in their turn, yearned for the feel of the joystick in their hands, to experience again the thrill of flying the aircraft of government. And many a Head of Department nostalgically recalled the days when they were district Collectors, with so many departments under them.

I myself remember how, as a Collector, I envied those at the grassroots level who wielded raw power and direct authority under various laws, regulations and rules. Thus, the need to be something one was decades ago exists at all levels.

This weakness, the urge to revisit what has been lost long ago, is also often seen when elderly persons go through what is called a ‘second childhood’, when they begin to behave as they did when they were children, just for the fun of it. Fortunately, this is largely harmless.

Much more serious, however, is the case of people in public life, holding important and high-visibility positions of authority, who find it difficult to resist the urge to jump into the fray even when not called for.

I recollect the case of a Chief Minister of the erstwhile Andhra Pradesh who had earlier been the Governor of another state.

He found it extremely awkward to extend to the Head of the State the same courtesies he himself had once received, and to allow the Governor the little space required for undertaking a few innocuous welfare or charitable activities, quite forgetting that he himself had occupied a much larger canvas earlier.

There was also a minister I once worked with a cultured, well-brought-up gentleman, extremely correct and straightforward, known for his integrity and competence.

Yet I found him intervening, quite innocently and probably at the instance of his private staff, directly in matters relating to transfers and postings of officials, a function expected to be performed by me as the Head of the Department.

I was compelled to have a tête-à-tête with him on the matter. Fortunately, he too was an aficionado of the game of cricket, and both of us had earlier served as Presidents of State Cricket Associations. I told him that his role as a minister was akin to that of the manager of a cricket team, and mine to that of the captain.

It was perfectly appropriate for him to counsel me about strategy before the day’s play began, and to review performance at the end of the day. It was not, however, for him to shout instructions from the dressing room while the match was in progress about whom to give the ball to, or where to place a fielder.

Likewise, it is not sound practice in governmental structures for those in charge of policy and overall governance to head institutions or departments, even if only in a nominal capacity.

In some states, Chief Ministers chair various bodies, thereby denying themselves the distance needed to review, critique or correct outcomes after the primary work has been done by those directly responsible.

Similarly, one sometimes finds Secretaries to government, particularly in the states, also functioning as Heads of Departments, creating situations where they report, in effect, to themselves, resulting in information asymmetry.

I once occupied such a position as Secretary to the Government of Andhra Pradesh in the Food and Agriculture Department, while simultaneously serving as Commissioner of Civil Supplies and Secretary ex officio to the state government.

The larger point is this: one may have been an outstanding success earlier in one’s chosen profession as a lawyer, doctor, engineer, judge, political leader or civil servant. But when the time comes to hang up one’s boots and call it a day, at least as far as active practice is concerned, it becomes essential to cultivate the art of riding away, with grace and dignity, into the sunset.

I can recall many real-life examples of those who have done precisely this. Some retired cricketers have taken up coaching or commentary on radio and television. Others, after retiring from the benches of the Supreme Court or High Courts, have become respected and highly reputed arbitrators.

Justice M. Hidayatullah, under whom I worked when he was Vice President of India and with whom my father also worked exemplified this transition. As for myself, I have thoroughly enjoyed mentoring and preparing young people aspiring to join the civil services, guiding them through examinations and interviews.

Perhaps the most amusing illustration of how futile it can sometimes be to try and be what one once was comes from the legendary Charlie Chaplin. Walking along Broadway one day, Chaplin noticed a sign announcing a competition: ‘Imitate Charlie Chaplin and win an attractive prize.’ Intrigued, he entered the contest incognito. When the results were announced, Chaplin came second.

(The writer was formerly Chief Secretary, Government of Andhra Pradesh)