We should not be surprised by Boris Johnson’s decision to support Priti Patel – it is all part of a worrying pattern

So much for Boris Johnson’s softer approach to governing after the departure of Dominic Cummings. At least the prime minister has a sense of irony. He used the final day of anti-bullying week to allow Priti Patel to remain home secretary, even though a long-awaited inquiry into claims she bullied civil servants found she had breached the ministerial code, even if “unintentionally”.

There is no precedent for a minister staying in post after breaking the code. So Johnson created one, rejecting the finding of Sir Alex Allan, his adviser on ministerial standards and a widely respected senior Whitehall figure, who promptly resigned as a result.

Johnson brazenly overruled Allan by seizing on the mitigating factors he highlighted – that there was “no evidence that she [Patel] was aware of the impact of her behaviour, and no feedback was given to her at the time”. That is hard to square with well-documented claims of an “atmosphere of fear” at the Home Office. But it opened the door for Johnson to play a diversionary blame game by focusing on Patel’s civil servants. No one has accused any of them of bullying. Patel said sorry for her behaviour, in effect admitting the charge of bullying. Remarkably, that was enough for Johnson to declare the matter closed.

Yet his ruling was no surprise. Throughout the process, Johnson strongly defended Patel, a close Vote Leave ally who is popular among the Tory grassroots and whose hardline stance is seen as crucial to retaining the support of the working class voters in the red-turned-blue wall in the north and Midlands.

She was an unlikely choice who has looked out of depth in her admittedly difficult post, and has sometimes been kept off the media radar for long periods. Reports of her attitude towards staff in three departments, including the Home Office, circulated long before Sir Philip Rutman resigned as its permanent secretary in February. She quit as international development secretary for breaching the ministerial code by not disclosing meetings with Israeli politicians during a “holiday” in the country. Such form would normally be taken into account in a new investigation under the same code, but not with Johnson in charge.

Despite getting his fingers burned by Cummings’ misguided trip to County Durham, the Patel saga shows that Johnson still believes in the unpublished addition to his code: “One rule for us, and another for everyone else.” Gavin Williamson, the education secretary, would surely have resigned under any other government after the exam grades fiasco. A whiter than white regime might have dispensed with the services of Robert Jenrick, the housing secretary, for giving a helping hand to Tory donor Richard Desmond’s £1bn property scheme, which saved him about £45m.

When John Bercow, the former Commons Speaker, was denied a peerage because of bullying allegations, which he denies, Downing Street said: “There can be no place for bullying or abuse in Westminster or any workplace.” Advice to employers from the arbitration service Acas says bullying can range from “unintentional misunderstandings” to “deliberate and malicious acts.” In his own foreword to the latest edition of the ministerial code, Johnson writes: “There must be no bullying and no harassment.”  

Aides insist he “loathes bullying” and told them he will not tolerate it. They say he does not believe Patel is a bully after looking at the issue in the round, including the mitigating factors identified by Allan and a recent improvement in relations between Home Office officials and ministers. Johnson also told advisers he recognises how difficult it is for staff to come forward with bullying allegations. Yet his own decision will hardly encourage people to do so.

Perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised. Political chameleons can change colour but leopards rarely change their spots, even if Johnson is trying to convince us he is having a “reset” after ridding himself of his turbulent priest in Cummings.

The Patel affair extends Johnson’s flexible code to new contortions: even when a minister breaks it, they do not have to resign. Civil servants are rightly alarmed. As Nick Macpherson, the Treasury’s former top official, put it: “Bullying at work is never justified: it can cause huge misery for those affected and their families. In my experience, things have to be very bad indeed for a Cabinet Office enquiry to find fault in a minister – the system is rigged to conclude the contrary.” 

When Cummings departed, many Whitehall officials breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that it might improve their relationship with their political masters. But the astonishing outcome to the Patel controversy will again sour relations.

Civil service reform is needed and will continue despite Cummings’ exit. But ministers need to put their own house in order, too. The Patel affair highlights starkly the need for a fully independent and transparent complaints system for ministers, rather than leaving the prime minister as prosecutor, judge and jury. In overruling Allan’s judgement, Johnson also acted as the Supreme Court.  

It is part of a worrying pattern that includes suspending parliament, breaking international law and will soon extend to clipping the real Supreme Court’s wings. Johnson can no longer blame Cummings; after his Patel verdict, we know that this comes from the very top.