Gordon Brown’s attempt to create a government of all the talents was always intriguing. It was possible to observe with the naked eye that it did not involve ensuring that all members of the Government were talented. And it seemed inherently unlikely that all people of talent would work for Mr Brown. So what did a government of all the talents really mean?

Yesterday the news that Lord Darzi of Denham is to leave the administration contributed to the confusion. For it seems that the government of all the talents not only lacks much talent, it also lacks much interest in governing.

Lord Darzi’s departure follows the decision of Digby Jones (Lord Jones of Birmingham) to quit his ministerial post, and the announcement that Stephen Carter (Lord Carter of Barnes) and Mark Malloch Brown (Lord Malloch-Brown) are leaving the Government too. Of those initially appointed as so-called “goats”, only Alan West (Lord West of Spithead) will be in position after the summer. The rest have come and gone in, at most, two years.

Mr Brown gained some favourable publicity from these appointments for a full 24 hours (longer than he is normally accustomed to). The ministers have all acquired distinguished and lengthy titles they can retain for life, with Lord Malloch-Brown having also mysteriously acquired a hyphen. It is harder to divine what the rest of us obtained from the whole saga.

The notion that appointing individuals with experience outside politics and a reputation for sound independent judgment might strengthen the Government is a good one. The increasing tendency of political parties to select their apparatchiks as MPs means that governments can usually benefit from having in their number those who are not professional politicians. And the requirement that members adhere to the party line over many years, makes it useful to inject into any administration those who have formed their opinions outside the party system.

Yet, from the first moment, it was clear that Gordon Brown was fonder of the reputation for creating a government of all the talents than he was at the idea of actually having one. The political advantage was always uppermost in his mind. The conditions he imposed upon — and the way he approached — potential government members ensured that many of the big independent figures he sought shied away from joining. It also ensured that those who did join quickly ceased being big figures, before ceasing to be independent and finally ceasing to be members of the Government altogether.

If Gordon Brown’s behaviour was disappointing, however, the behaviour of the goats themselves was more disappointing still. Lord Jones, for instance, has spent years lobbying government. He professes to hold strong views and clearly cares whether people pay attention to them. Yet given the chance to be in the Government, to do some of the things he goes on about, he announced his resignation in only ten months.

Lord Darzi has given everyone the benefit of his opinion on the NHS for years and stayed long enough in his post to develop a plan for reform. Now he is leaving before his plan can be implemented properly. Everyone involved believes that his departure will damage the prospects for change.

There is an irony in this. One of the qualities that outsiders might bring to politics is to introduce MPs to the virtues of application and consistency, to show them that executive tasks are as important as the press release, to insist that titles take second place to solid, unshowy achievements. Instead, the lesson of Mr Brown’s effort is that the sheep have outlasted the goats.