The Cabinet Office permanent secretary, Cat Little, delivered a 100-minute performance before the foreign affairs select committee that will be studied in civil service textbooks for years to come. Her testimony, which revolved around the Peter Mandelson security clearance scandal, was a masterclass in saying nothing while appearing to say something.
A Civil Servant's Civil Servant
Little, described as a true performance artist, has perfected the art of giving answers that seem interesting at first but become completely dull upon reflection. She has never shared an opinion of her own, instead meticulously documenting everything. If she met a colleague and heard that hand dryers were broken, she would make a note. And someone else would record that a record was made. Even for highly confidential matters, she would ensure a document existed stating that no document was created.
The Committee's Star Witness
Committee chair Emily Thornberry, still smarting from her cabinet snub two years ago, relished the opportunity to grill Little. Backed by an unusually sharp committee, Thornberry asked the right questions but received few illuminating answers. Little repeatedly declined to comment, citing secrecy so extreme that revealing it would require her to kill the committee members afterward.
Despite the evasions, a few nuggets emerged. Little contradicted earlier testimony from Olly Robbins, who claimed the Cabinet Office suggested Mandelson might not need developed vetting. Little insisted the document trail showed the Cabinet Office always wanted UK Security Vetting (UKSV) involved. She had no idea why Robbins got a different impression or why he tried to prevent her from obtaining the UKSV report. Their conversation went undocumented by mutual agreement.
Red Lights and Red Tape
When asked about the UKSV report that flagged two red lights and an outright refusal for Mandelson, Little was vague. She could not confirm whether Robbins had read all 10 pages or understood the significance of the red light code. She even suggested he might not have realised red was red. She also could not confirm material differences between due diligence and the UKSV report, again citing the need to kill everyone if she disclosed more.
The Prime Minister's Clearance
Thornberry wondered why there was a three-week gap between Little obtaining the UKSV report and handing it to Prime Minister Keir Starmer. Little was more forthcoming here: some documents were so confidential that she could not automatically assume Starmer had clearance. She consulted several lawyers to ensure the prime minister was allowed access. National security was at stake, and the civil service sometimes cannot trust even the most powerful man in the country.
The rest of the session was a frustrating back-and-forth. Questions were met with dead-bat responses, references to the humble address remit, and suggestions that the committee ask the individuals involved. Occasionally, Little hinted at documents that might exist but could neither confirm nor deny at the time. She lived only for empirical data, leaving the committee in a parallel world of infinite possibilities.
As Thornberry closed the session, Little gave a rare smile. This had been her finest hour—a performance that will be dissected in public administration textbooks for generations.
