Mr Reform and the mammoth ‘Triple Mission’

For the sake of simplicity – if that’s still possible in resolving national issues – let’s call it the Triple Mission.
Well, the government is optimistic it can meet this highly ambitious goal, even though it seems at best elusive and at worst impossible, especially when the scheme aims to achieve all those objectives by diktat from above.
Premier Prayut Chan-o-cha is likely aware of the scepticism that prevails among a significant segment of citizens. Hence his request-cum-order: “Please don’t pour criticism on the plan before it is given a chance to work out.”
Let’s give it a chance. Or maybe two.
First, let’s get the facts straight. The official name of the committee in question is the Committee for National Administration under the Framework of National Strategic Reform and the Creation of National Reconciliation.
I can’t even begin to try to give it an abbreviated name. The Thai abbreviation is perhaps less cumbersome. It’s known as Por Yor Por. Let’s call it PYP, hoping it will stick and survive the series of challenges that have already presented themselves in all shades and forms.
Yes, the prime minister will head the group. He was supposed to have called the first meeting on January 30 to deliver his first “policy statement” and explain how this huge network of people would work together to achieve the “triple goal”.
The most eye-catching element was unveiled by Suwit Maesinsri, a minister attached to the PM’s Office: a new post will be created to ensure the success of this major scheme. It’s known as “Mr Reform”.
If nothing else, this is an impressive new innovation for the bureaucracy. According to the plan, each ministry will have one “Mr Reform”, whose main task is to coordinate with the PYP so that things move forward as planned.
Where do you find Mr Reform? Well, he or she is right there already, somewhere in the bureaucratic maze. One just has to identify that person and make the appropriate announcement to put them officially in charge of ensuring things are properly coordinated.
He could, according to Suwit, be a deputy permanent secretary or a director-general or one of his or her deputies. “The most important quality of that person is to be knowledgeable, competent and determined to make changes within the ministry,” the minister declared.
That, I am afraid, is a tall order indeed.
My first question, naturally, is: Why go to the trouble of appointing a Mr Reform when in fact every ministry is already run on a day-to-day basis by a permanent secretary whose duty is to coordinate what needs to be coordinated.
Isn’t it clear that if someone else has to be picked as main coordinator then the obvious conclusion is that the permanent secretary just isn’t up to the task? If that’s the case, why is he or she still in the position? That, to me, is the crux of the reform process: People who aren’t qualified must be replaced before we even start talking about a plan.
The second question is: Who does Mr Reform report to in the new chain of command? If Mr Reform doesn’t happen to be the permanent-secretary himself, does he or she still report to the direct boss? Or do they present their reports to the big committee, or to one of the subcommittees that are sure to mushroom in due course? And where does that leave the permanent-secretary? Isn’t he supposed to be a coordinator himself? Does Mr Reform report to him on certain issues while reporting directly to the committee on others?
I can assure you that I am not trying to make things seem too complicated. These are merely the questions that came immediately to mind after receiving the exciting news about the PYP and Mr Reform.
There is no doubt that reform, strategy and national reconciliation are all critical elements in moving Thailand to the next step which includes, of course, the general election. And most of us no doubt desire great progress in all three areas at close intervals, if not simultaneously.
But even if your optimistic heart skips a beat at news of this plan, your brain can’t help sending out signals of caution, doubt and scepticism. 
Fond as I am for any innovation among the country’s most promising technocrats, my worst fear is that Mr Reform, however industrious and resourceful he or she might be, could turn into Mr Scapegoat when things don’t go the way the big boss thinks they should.