THE gravy train that rumbles through civic Scotland only stops to pick up passengers. Once onboard no-one ever gets off. Local authority chief executives, council departmental heads, police chiefs, charity bosses and university principals bite and scratch for their portion and when there is a risk of over-crowding another carriage simply gets added.

Since devolution this swollen class of bureaucrats and functionaries has been joined by another genus of the species: the special advisers. Holyrood suckles and provides for them and when they can feed no more a job is waiting for them in the oak-panelled splendour of one of the myriad political lobbying firms which gather around the Scottish Parliament to partake of her bounty. For this anointed army of the well-connected and ill-deserving devolution has been a very good thing indeed. Billions of pounds of public money has passed through their bank accounts and, in return, very, very little has been achieved in improving the lives of those whom they are paid to serve.

This week the accounts of the University of Edinburgh were published and they revealed that the principal, Sir Tim O’Shea, accepted a lump sum of £20K, taking his overall package of remuneration to £321,000 – an increase of 11%. Meanwhile it was revealed that the pay of Sir Anton Muscatelli, principal of the University of Glasgow, increased by £7000 to £329,000. Sir Ian Diamond, principal of Aberdeen University, received a remuneration package worth £327,000. Dundee’s Abertay University, ranked 88th out of 129 UK academic institutions – which puts it in the Johnstone’s Paint Trophy category of UK academia – pays its principal £216,000 in salary and pension contributions.

The management boards of universities tend to justify such eye-watering salaries and bonuses by saying that targets have been reached and growth has been achieved in a highly competitive sector. What this usually means is that more degree courses in some unorthodox and exotic subjects have been sold to the scions of rich Asian families who couldn’t get into Oxford and Cambridge.

It’s never been universally apparent why the task of being a university principal is deserving of such huge financial reward. These institutions cater for a relatively tiny percentage of the population, most of whom are sufficiently well-motivated and gifted to gain a degree without the guidance of an over-arching principal. The departments are staffed by brilliant minds whose work and research are of a sufficiently high standard to qualify for any grants going without the intervention of the principal. These places don’t require the expertise of a £300K-a-year chief to attract the brightest and the best.

All that’s seemingly left to do in the academic year of a university principal, if the expenses claims are an accurate indicator, is to travel the globe giving speeches at leadership forums attended by, er, … other university principals. Beyond that it is a ceremonial role, the duties of which include approaching agents in the entertainment industry about their clients’ willingness to accept an honorary degree.

These universities, despite some small recent improvements, remain all but closed to children from disadvantaged communities. They reinforce the privileges of a class which is already anointed and in so doing contribute to the yawning social mobility chasm that exists all over the UK. Several principals of universities have backgrounds in economic theory. As such, they don’t need me to tell them about the benefits that accrue to a society that genuinely seeks to unlock the potential of its largest social group.

Earlier this week another report outlined the vast pay-offs granted to departing workers in Scotland’s crowded local authority sector. Here, 32 councils in a population of five million provide rich and easy pickings for a mendicant troupe of chief executives and departmental heads. During the last six years in Scotland almost £630m has been paid by local authorities on severance deals. Last year Audit Scotland figures showed that six severance deals a day were agreed by Scotland’s councils amounting to £78m. They included the former Scottish Borders chief executive who departed with £318,000. According to Cosla many of the pay-offs were the “result of streamlining in line with workforce planning”. I think that means something to do with an agreed programme of redundancies. Perhaps so, but this doesn’t begin to address the massive packages pulled down by senior executive staff.

In 2012 three Glasgow City Council bosses shared exit packages totalling £1.3 million, almost one-quarter of the total bill for the city's 90 redundancy deals that year. One very happy chap did something which carried the designation assistant director of development and regeneration services. For this he was rewarded with a package of £586,000; that’s almost £84k per word of his job title.

A very interesting audit would be the one that tracks the future employment choices of former council bosses and the number of times the name of a preferred local authority supplier emerges.

Again, it’s not entirely apparent what a senior council employee achieves to justify such a huge quantum of remuneration. They are often assisted by consultancy firms which each make millions digging councils, health boards and police authorities out of holes caused by the perpetual financial and organisational incontinence of failing bosses.

This is how it works. Large contracts and projects often prove to be too much to handle for your average six-figure salaried executive in the public sector. This usually results in a delay of a year or so as the Scottish Government sits on the resulting black hole and waits for a busy news cycle to slip out the wretched numbers. At the 11th hour a government-appointed team of experts is sent in. It’s called a "taskforce" to give the impression of urgency and professionalism. The task force is never seen again for it is easier to map Brazilian rainforests than to sort out the wreckage of public sector management in Scotland. After they have failed they call for the management consultants and that’s when the world’s fastest meter starts to tick. One such is IHI, a global health consulting firm paid millions by the Scottish Government. The boss of IHI is one Derek Feeley, previously NHS Scotland Chief Executive.

If you want to see this in action, have a look at the car crash of the Scottish Government’s flagship integration of health and social care. Here, the Integrated Joint Boards have largely failed. Another layer of cost has merely been added and nothing’s been reduced or integrated. The management consultants are already licking their lips in anticipation. In the midst of the chaos several health bosses will be counting down the days to their inevitable redundancy notices and the concomitant £300k-plus severances.

All aboard the Caledonian Gravy Train; this is a high-speed service with no end in sight.