The Coincidence of Novembers

As it’s Sunday let’s start with an extract from a Sermon given by Patrick Nairne at the University Church of St Mary the Virgin, Oxford, on 30th October 1983.

“When our family was younger, my wife and I lived near the famous Hampton Court Maze – not the most difficult of mazes, but less easy than it looked. I can see now my children dashing excitedly into it – as many of us dash into life when we are young, full of hope and confidence that we shall get what we want and find what we are looking for.

Our life in this world has something of the character of a maze. We are soon touched by doubt and a sense of failure as we begin to learn how easy it is to take the wrong turning or to mistake the path. Occasionally we are disturbed by the confident cries, or the plaintive shouts, of others on the far side of the yew hedges. We know that we must keep going or we shall be lost. And as we struggle on, we realise that, if we could only get above the dark maze – if we could rise just a short way above it – we could see the right path and the turnings we must take.”

The Coincidence of Novembers has, at last, been published. At the end there is a list of the subscribers who crowd-funded it and, sadly there is one “The Estate of … “ amid a list of the great and good, family and friends. Interestingly none of the g & g have used their titles – thank goodness I didn’t use my much inferior one. But what’s it all about?

It is not a biography, an autobiography or a memoir. It is a glorious mish-mash compiled from his diaries, talks and sermons, musings and entries in his commonplace book. Patrick Nairne endeared himself to everyone – his political masters, the Lords Healey and Carrington praise him. He muses, so topically, on the validity or otherwise of referendums and the constitutional damage they engender. He remembers being read Wodehouse at prep school and tells of being given a gin and tonic before lunch at the Garrick, when a club servant discreetly hands him a slip of paper: the Cabinet Secretary asking, “could you manage to look in”.

Civil servants, however clever and distinguished, too often get forgotten while their political masters steal the limelight. Sandy Nairne’s book is an engaging tribute to his father – one that amply demonstrates a public servant can be more than a Sir Humphrey Appleby. “Pat” Nairne is a man I’d have like to have met but through Sandy’s book I sort of can.

Sir Patrick Nairne, who has died aged 91, was one of Britain’s great, and most enlightened, public servants at a time when they had the opportunity to shine. A highly civilised man of rare talents and interests, he rose to the top in Whitehall through administrative and managerial flair – virtues he combined with humanity, a deep appreciation of the arts, and enthusiasm for facing difficult intellectual and moral challenges. (Guardian obituary, June 2013)