Dithering officials are holding back the tide of innovation and entrepreneurship

At the start of the pandemic, China built a hospital in double-quick time and we all thought, “that’s why they are so good at economic growth”. Then Britain followed suit, proving we can do it, too. Medical devices have been rushed through the approval process in days. Vaccine development is being brilliantly accelerated. We have shown we can do things quickly. Why can’t we do the same in ordinary times?

Like every small business owner, I find that quangos always take far, far longer than they need over decisions.

A local river trust cleaning out an old fish-pass on a river took several months to get approval from the Environment Agency; the work took one day. An attempt to turn derelict farm buildings into shops has so far taken local planning officials seven years to (not yet) decide.

Getting permission to extend a track by a hundred yards took Natural England many months of hesitation and several site visits.

The problem that faces firms up and down the country is not that regulators say no, but that they take an age to say yes. A local firm has been trying to start a project that would bring 200 good jobs and millions of pounds of tax revenue. It has been through planning permission, an inquiry, an appeal and a court case – winning at every stage. It was promised a ministerial decision last June and is still waiting, five years after applying.

From Heathrow Airport’s new runway to notifying you of a medical test result, everything seems to take far longer than necessary.

For private enterprise, time is money; delay can be lethal. Companies like Amazon, for all their faults, recognise this and promise you rapid delivery. For the public sector, there is no urgency. If the rules state that you must receive a reply within three weeks, then lo and behold, the reply arrives after three weeks, never two.

It can take up to six years to get a medical device – a new and faster diagnostic test for viruses, say – licensed in most European countries, including this one. Entrepreneurs cannot wait that long; their money runs out. We will never know how many innovations such delays have deterred, but they are surely one of the main reasons we were not better prepared for this pandemic.

In 2005, the European Food Safety Authority (EFSA) approved a genetically modified variety of potato bred by the German company BASF.

The European Commission decided not to decide. So BASF went to court and won. The commission launched another evaluation. The EFSA once again said the potato was safe. But the Hungarian government complained the EU had based its decision on the first approval, instead of the second virtually identical one. A court agreed.

By this time, eight years had passed and BASF had tired of banging its head against a brick wall. It withdrew its application, packed up its research team and moved them to America.

Instead of raging against the machine, we shrug and treat these delays like the weather; we dare not grumble for fear of incurring a further bureaucratic sulk.

The trouble is, delay costs civil servants nothing. Indeed, it brings advantages. Not taking a decision increases the chances that you’ll be promoted or moved so the blame for the decision – if it proves unpopular – falls on your successor. Plus the delay enables them to argue they are overworked and under-resourced, so need a bigger budget. This is known as public choice theory.

The Highways Agency is planning a road-widening scheme through a sliver of woodland I own. Fine, go ahead, say I. It’s been on the cards for a decade, planned for five years and an active project for two. But no ground has been broken. Ecologists with high-vis jackets and clipboards keep coming out to survey the habitat; the otters, protected species and trees. There is a separate ecologist wearing a high-vis jacket in a separate van for each category.

They are now making second or third visits because, they say, too long has elapsed since the first one and they need to check if the trees are still there. The road will be built anyway. But notice: the more visits, the more these ecological consultants earn.

China is a dictatorship, but if you don’t annoy the Communist Party, you’re far more free to put up a building, start a research project or open a shop without interminable waits for beadles and busybodies to give you licences. If there is one way to regain rapid growth after Covid, it is surely to incentivise officials to take decisions more quickly. I wish I could think of a way to do that which won’t immediately be gamed, but there must be one. Fast decisions would unlock a tidal wave of entrepreneurial activity which at the moment just gives up.

From Heathrow Airport’s new runway to notifying you of a medical test result, everything seems to take far longer than necessary