In this edited summary of an extensive discussion, Peter McDonald talks to the former Permanent Under-Secretary of the Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office about the art of diplomacy, organisational resilience, the importance of collaboration across government… and the road less travelled
In the late 1980s, Philip Barton put his name forward for a posting to Buenos Aires. Only four years had passed since the Falklands War, so it was hardly a comfortable choice. But for an aspiring diplomat, the rationale was clear. “What better case for diplomacy than to engage with a country with which we had just been in armed conflict,” he reflects. That instinct – to seek out the road less travelled – defined a career spanning four decades.
Philip joined the Foreign and Commonwealth Office in 1986 and served overseas in capitals including Caracas, New Delhi, Nicosia, Gibraltar, Islamabad and Washington. When based in London, his roles spanned consular services, intelligence, counter-terrorism, international security, Europe and South Asia – working in both Downing Street and the Foreign Office. In 2020, he became the department’s Permanent Under-Secretary (PUS), serving until 2025.
Our conversation covered the challenges of diplomatic life, what distinguishes the Foreign Office from much of government, and what it means to build agility, resilience and collaboration across the Civil Service. Underpinning it all was how best to serve the Foreign Office and, in turn, the UK.
An enduring craft
While diplomacy is one of government’s oldest functions, the tools of the trade have changed considerably. In his early career, Philip operated on broad instructions from London on what the UK wanted to achieve; in the age of infrequent diplomatic telegrams, “week by week, I was pretty much left to get on with the job.”
Since then, the way we communicate has been revolutionised by technology. Speed, however, creates a paradox. The faster the connection between an embassy and London, the easier it is to manage from the centre, but the greater the danger of stifling the very judgement the centre relies on. “You need to resist that temptation,” Philip cautions, as it does not make for the best diplomacy – “it is neither effective nor sensible.”
Of course, there are times when embassies need to report back and seek guidance, but it is often best to provide diplomats with a general brief rather than micro-managing instructions. Philip recommends “using your initiative and discretion to go and achieve the UK’s objectives in the way best suited for the environment.” Where diplomats were once de facto empowered by circumstance, now they must be empowered by trust.
The heart of this diplomatic work is still human contact: noticing what is said and unsaid, understanding how arguments land in another capital and finding the best way to advance an objective without misreading the politics. Covid tested that proposition and, in Philip’s view, proved it true – “there was no real substitute for being in post in person.” As the pandemic receded, the UK’s overseas network sprang back to life and diplomatic travel quickly returned. Again, technology may aid diplomacy, but it cannot replace the craft.
Perceptions and politics
Britain has practised diplomacy for longer than most, so the rest of the world has had time to form a view on the UK’s Civil Service. Philip encountered “mostly a deep respect” from his opposite numbers, though opinions varied, including in Commonwealth nations where, “for better or worse, perceptions of the Civil Service start from a perspective of British colonial rule.”
By its nature, diplomacy means non-political British civil servants often engage directly with foreign politicians or political appointees. While this creates a constitutional asymmetry, doing diplomacy well requires understanding politics and framing arguments in political terms. This is not to ask officials to stray from the Civil Service Code; it is about making diplomats more effective representatives of the UK on behalf of elected ministers.
One advantage of a diplomatic life is exposure to other constitutional models. Philip notes he often encountered foreign officials who, compared to UK counterparts, would have “a really deep expertise in a particular area” – precisely because they had been politically appointed for that knowledge. By comparison, UK civil servants are “more likely to have a broader perspective as careers have been structured around doing a variety of different things” – or, more candidly, “‘generalists” in the Northcote-Trevelyan tradition.
He also points out that senior civil servants inevitably work closely with their respective politicians to be effective. Whereas in other countries that might demand an explicit political affiliation, the UK’s approach is to provide ministers with an impartial, permanent civil service. Having observed many systems, he concludes that “the UK has a lot of strengths by having an apolitical, central civil service – we lose that at our peril.”
The duty of care
When most people think of the Foreign Office, they do not immediately think of operations. Yet the organisation has a larger functional load than many realise – including those within government. This can create a misleading impression of a diplomat’s role: “you do get to do some out of the ordinary things,” he says, “but the flipside is working on really difficult things in tough environments.” This extends to consular staff “helping British citizens at their most distressed moments, potentially in their entire lives.”
Over his career, Philip became increasingly responsible for these organisational matters, culminating in his PUS role. His first impression? The sheer “range and complexity of the totality,” he replies without hesitation. Out of necessity, he spent more time focusing on the front line than on telegrams or communiqués. But it was never possible to be on top of every detail. “I had to find a way to make sure it did not keep me awake at night – or else I would never have slept,” he remembers. He therefore made a settlement with himself: “to build the systems and trust in people… and to be comfortable that you cannot know everything that is going on.”
Above all, his duty of care was for the safety, security and welfare of his teams. This was especially true for overseas staff because, “frankly, that was where they were in danger.”
“We have 24/7 responsibility for them,” he explains, giving a stark example: “if they are in the back end of beyond and are involved in a car crash, that is your problem as an organisation.” With 17,000 staff spread over more than 250 global locations, this responsibility was unlike that shouldered by most of his Permanent Secretary colleagues. Ultimately, it is a compact: staff accept postings in difficult places and the quid pro quo is a “support bubble from the department.”
Living with crises
While this duty of care was Philip’s first responsibility, he had to accept that the levers of care were more limited than he would have liked – “there is less that you can do about things overseas than you can in the UK.” While working in international counter-terrorism early in his career, he learned the important lesson that, “in the end, you have to accept that bad things happen in the world and you cannot stop everything.” Properly assessing the risk and putting the right measures in place is sometimes the most any leader can do.
But that reality did not diminish the responsibility, which was an intrinsic part of being PUS. Philip outlines two distinct – but closely related – forms of responsibility. The first is the Foreign Secretary holding political accountability for the department’s work; the second is the PUS holding employer responsibility for staff. The former is a familiar part of the UK constitutional system, but the latter is “non-negotiable” and has to operate alongside it. The two are interdependent: foreign policy decisions affect staff safety while staff management reflects back on policy. To avoid conflict, “there had to be a dual process” – and it was his job to navigate it with the Foreign Secretary.
This was tested in the first days of the Ukraine war. At the start of 2022, it was clear that Russia would invade, the only question was when and how. For solidarity, there was an understandable desire for UK officials to remain in the Kyiv embassy for as long as possible – but not at any cost. “We ended up staying a week longer than the United States,” Philip recalls. But this was never a competition. Instead, it reflected a careful balance of safety, diplomatic and political considerations that had to be struck in partnership between civil service and political leaders.
Agility by design
The evacuation of Afghanistan in 2021 was a major episode that had a significant impact on the Foreign Office. The challenges of that period are well-documented, so we focused on the institutional lessons.
Philip begins with his assessment that “the department – and all the individuals involved – did a better job than they were given credit for.” But the experience highlighted some capability gaps. Philip’s approach to addressing these was important both for learning lessons from the Kabul airlift and for strengthening the department to face more frequent shocks in a more volatile world. This was demonstrated by the subsequent need to respond to the Ukraine invasion, Sudanese civil war and October 7 Hamas attacks – all in quick succession.
Philip set about building an organisation better able to withstand shocks systematically rather than reacting on an ad hoc basis. “I was absolutely determined to transform the department to make it more agile and resilient,” he says. This meant three things: prioritisation, mobility and foresight.
First, Philip argues for “absolute clarity” on the core business that must continue, and what can be reprioritised in a crisis. This sometimes meant difficult conversations with ministers. It also required a shift in mindset amongst staff, who had to accept that the work that most motivated them might not be the highest priority. That said, safeguards were needed to ensure that flexibility did not come at the cost of retaining – and growing – expertise where it was needed.
The second imperative was creating “a system for moving people at short notice and supporting them more effectively in crisis situations.” This included putting structure around emergency placements and creating an enhanced welfare offer for those working under intense pressure, echoing the compact of care for overseas staff.
Finally, he sought to instil a culture of foresight to improve understanding of emerging global headwinds and prepare contingency plans accordingly – “to be more systematic in looking at the biggest events that might impact our work, including doing more engagement with outside experts.”
The blurred line
A less predictable world is one thing, but from a policy perspective “the differentiation between domestic and international issues has become increasingly blurred.” Examples include the Russian invasion of Ukraine triggering an energy price crisis and overseas developments shaping migration flows into the UK. These dynamics put a premium on integrated policy-making.
It cuts both ways. First, ‘home’ departments need to recognise the international dimensions of their work and what the Foreign Office needs from them to fulfil the UK’s global objectives. Over his 40 years as a diplomat, Philip saw this improve noticeably among domestic departments: “it changed significantly and there is now a reasonably good understanding of the department’s role.”
In the other direction, it is incumbent on the Foreign Office to look outward to the rest of government. The department is most effective when it understands domestic pressures and objectives. Again, Philip has seen progress: “there is a much broader emphasis now on working across government and an appreciation that the Diplomatic Service provides a platform for the whole of the UK.” In particular, there is now “greater clarity that Heads of Mission represent the whole of government, not just the Foreign Office” – for example when he was High Commissioner to Pakistan (2014 to 2016), he recalls there were thirteen different UK ministries involved in the mission’s work. Here, Home Office objectives on illegal migration and returning failed asylum seekers were just as important as the foreign policy priorities he was asked to pursue.
Philip gained first-hand insight into the domestic and foreign interface in Number 10 while serving as Private Secretary for foreign affairs to John Major and later to Tony Blair (between 1997 and 2000). Working in a small Private Office – “unrecognisably smaller than it is today” – he gained a close understanding of the domestic challenges of the day. This shaped his approach to future challenges and provided “a deep insight into domestic policy, more so than most of my colleagues with a Foreign Office background.”
Extreme collaboration
Philip’s time at the centre influenced his approach to working across Whitehall. “It is sometimes easier to lead if you can create a sense of ‘us’ and ‘them’,” he suggests, noting that while sometimes valid between countries, it is “deeply unhelpful” within parts of the same government. Yet when he became a Director General in the Foreign Office, he “observed some rather poor and uncollaborative behaviours.”
He therefore made a deliberate choice that the only way to succeed as a government – if not necessarily as an individual – was to collaborate deeply and openly. He labels the approach “extreme collaboration”. Working together may sound obvious, but Philip stresses the essential compromise: “I had to be willing to go into a meeting and accept that the Foreign Office view was not always going to win the argument.” This mindset came more easily given his past experience – “I was partly able to do that because I had worked in the Cabinet Office.”
Around the same time, Mark Sedwill (then National Security Adviser and later Cabinet Secretary) introduced his own term of art, the “fusion doctrine”. It is a grand title for a simple concept: bringing together all arms of government – diplomatic, military, economic and even cultural – into a single, coordinated response to threats. Led by the National Security Council, the approach distributed Cabinet Office-style coordination responsibilities to a range of departmental senior leaders – “it was a massive change.”
Under this system, Philip held cross-government responsibility for countering Russia’s hostile behaviour towards the UK. This was put into effect following the Novichok attack in Salisbury in 2018, when he led the UK’s international response to clear state involvement. Britain expelled 23 Russian diplomats, tightened sanctions and coordinated a concerted effort with allies to take similar measures, persuading them of the strength of the UK’s evidence and the need for actions that went beyond words. In his assessment, the endeavour “really rested on the collaborative ways of working I had put in place.” Reflecting on how behaviours translate into outcomes, “it would have been much harder if we had been in a habit of staying in our institutional silos, rather than having built the habit of coming together.”
The collaborative approach was tested in a different way when the Government of the day combined the Foreign and Commonwealth Office with the Department for International Development (DFID) in 2020. Whitehall is no stranger to machinery of government changes, or to the significant administrative workload they inevitably bring. What made this unusual was that the two departments had “very different cultures that were deeply ingrained on both sides” – the Foreign Office’s stretching back well over a century, DFID’s defined by a strong sense of mission.
Philip was appointed to lead the new department from ‘Day 1’. While the merger – “not a takeover” – took time to achieve, the outcome was greater coherence “in our international policymaking and how the UK is represented overseas.” The current Government has chosen not to unpick the arrangement and, looking ahead, he believes “there are some enduring benefits which we should continue to reap.”
Astonishing people
Diplomacy challenges not only policy and institutions, it also demands much from people. Families bear the strain of remote postings and leaders carry the isolation of working far from Whitehall.
Philip notes the personal sacrifice that diplomats make in return for their international roles. Rotational placements may be manageable for an individual, but most diplomats have families and so must make compromises over a spouse’s career or children’s schooling, as he himself found.
For commendable reasons, today’s generation is less willing than its forebears to tolerate long separations from families. “It is harder for people in the middle of their careers,” Philip explains – “not everyone can be posted in Europe.” So the department needs to avoid “haemorrhaging the middle” and find ways to ensure that challenging postings remain viable for staff of all ages. There are no easy answers, but he believes government should allow more flexible relocation if it facilitates a diplomatic posting. “In today’s world, you sometimes have to take families as a package if they both have a relationship with the Crown,” he argues.
Postings also place a heavy responsibility on leaders and the missions can be lonely ones. Philip confirms it is especially true overseas: without a strong network, it can be hard to stay connected to the full colour of what is happening in government. He reflects on how it is all too easy to “lose perspective and see shadows, especially when things start to go wrong.” After all, diplomats are sometimes “genuinely in an alien environment, potentially subject to harassment and under pressure from local governments.”
Leaders need to acknowledge this difficulty and be willing to seek help in challenging times. “I learned that asking for support is a sign of strength, not weakness,” Philip explains – it is in both personal and civil service interests.
Too often this remains unsaid. But when Philip openly told an audience of civil service leaders that, in the wake of personal attacks and the media’s pursuit of his family after the Afghanistan episode, he had sought support, the positive response was “astonishing”. “It was possibly the single most impactful thing I said in my five years as Permanent Under-Secretary,” he recalls – “I felt like I had really touched a chord.”
The road not taken
In the end, Philip’s path never took him to Argentina – “that is the one that got away.” But he did go to most other corners of the globe. This was a deliberate choice to avoid the familiar and work in less well-known places – “they fitted my sense of adventure; they were not places where you could pick up the phone from the UK and just get things done.”
It was more challenging but clearly more rewarding. Echoing the poet Robert Frost, if career choices are like roads diverging in a wood, Philip ‘took the one less travelled by.’ And that made all the difference.
