The Public Sector PenPushers’ Manifesto

This is an updated version of the first piece I wrote for Pushing the Pen, back in late 2023. It’s a heartfelt statement of belief, and still holds true today.

They call us the penpushers, and it’s not meant kindly.
We’re often labelled as pointless, incompetent, wasteful. A drain on public budgets. The reason the system doesn’t work.

We’re blamed when services fail, mocked for having “cushy” office jobs, and dismissed as irrelevant. Even frontline colleagues sometimes view us with scepticism or frustration.

And yet we show up.

The Cambridge Dictionary defines a penpusher as “someone who has an office job that is not very interesting or important and involves a lot of paperwork.”

But we see it differently.

We may not serve citizens directly, but we still entered public service to make a difference. Administrative work is our tool for doing good, and for many of us, it’s a vocation.

Bureaucracy has its flaws, but it wasn’t always a slur. It was created to bring fairness, prevent chaos, and protect against abuse of power. We know it’s imperfect, but we also see its strengths. It shouldn’t be dismissed without something better in its place.

We work in a system that’s far from perfect.
We try to tame complexity, and we don’t always succeed. But we keep going. And when we’re given enough time, skill, and confidence, our work becomes a quiet art — a gift to others, and to ourselves. Even when no one notices.

We hold public service values close. Our stories may not be dramatic or visible, but they still matter.

Many of us are introverts. We don’t wear our emotions loudly, but we care in a clear, structured way. Logic, planning, and clarity are our forms of compassion.

We also know we’re lucky. Most of us have more predictable hours or safer conditions than our frontline colleagues. That should make us more empathetic, not less. Helping them succeed is part of our job.

We have blind spots too.
We sometimes forget that not everyone enjoys forms, data, or policies the way we do. We’ve all created processes that frustrate people. We sometimes fail to simplify. We sometimes overcomplicate.

But these aren’t fixed flaws. They can be changed.

At our best, we put empathy and practicality at the centre of our work.
We reduce frustration, build trust, and quietly improve the system.

Many of us have untapped reserves of creativity and care — visible in our volunteering, our politics, our communities. Even if we don’t show it at work, it’s there, waiting for the right conditions to shine.

People don’t always realise that we dislike pointless bureaucracy just as much as they do. That we get stuck in red tape too.

The difference is, we know how to cut through it.
We’ve got the skills, the remit, and the drive.

We can go beyond box-ticking. We can improve systems while protecting what matters. We can ask better questions, try better tools, and find better ways of doing things.

We’re not perfect, but we can make things better.

We’re not naive. Every field has slackers and cynics. Some people coast. Some might roll their eyes at this whole manifesto.

Let them.

They don’t get to define us.

We are the backbone of the public sector.
Let’s act like it.

We’ll always be an easy target. But the work we do matters. And in this messy, unpredictable world, it’s needed more than ever.

So stay steady — and keep pushing the pen.