Eric Thompson entered the large conference room; the television on the wall displayed the Unlimited Partners logo. He found the board of directors already there, seated. They glared at him as he arrived.
Eric smiled and touched his hand to his chest. “Now, I know you’re all wondering why I called you here today…”
“Enough of the japes, Mr. Thompson,” shot back Mrs. Verhage. “Your irreverent attitude might score points with your subordinates, but it has no place here.”
Eric coughed politely. “Of course.” He found his chair and sat down. “I always enjoy these in-person board meetings.”
“Some news is simply better delivered in-person,” Mrs. Verhage opined.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Eric replied, a twinkle in his eyes. Mrs. Verhage didn’t respond; Eric continued. “So, shall we get to it?”
“We have a number of pointed questions about your style of governance,” chairman Carl Beaumont opened.
“Before we get into that,” Eric interrupted, “can I clarify whether you have any problems with the financial results?”
I—” Carl began.
“After all, under the profit-sharing deal we worked out in the beginning, Unlimited Partners has paid back its initial seed money, plus given the investors a tidy profit, all while eliminating your delinquent-tenant problem. I assume this is to your liking?” Eric tilted his head expectantly.
“We…yes, of course, we’re fine with that,” Carl declared. “We have no financial complaints. Our objections concern how you’re running the city, the sort of laws you’re putting into place.”
“I’ll happily explain, and defend, any decisions you wish to bring up,” Eric asserted.
“Let’s start with a smaller issue,” Drew spoke up. “What on Earth possessed you to make Ted Danbury a spokesman? He may be a tough-as-nails executive, but you’ve put him in the public eye, speaking for you during hostile interviews and the like. How is this a good idea?”
“I believe you answered your own question,” Eric pointed out. “The key word is hostile. You can’t throw a positive thinker, or an agreeable type, into a hostile situation. And you certainly don’t want someone whose instinct is to form consensus! Ted was fully forewarned of the situations I asked him to involve himself, and he readily agreed. Personally, I think he’s done a great job! You have to fight hostility with hostility, otherwise one looks weak.”
“I just don’t think that’s the sort of public image we want in this company,” Drew asserted.
“I don’t think it’s fair for you to criticize Mr. Danbury’s work in his absence,” Eric countered. “He should be here to defend himself.”
“No, I…I’m not criticizing Ted,” Drew stammered. “I just don’t think it’s fair you put him in this position.”
“It was by mutual agreement,” Eric explained. “He was under no illusions. He knew what he was getting himself into. And he looked positively pumped after each of his public appearances! It’s clear he enjoyed them greatly, and I think he accomplished what he set out to do.” Eric’s brow furrowed. “What is your complaint, exactly?”
Drew appeared to be at a loss for words. “Never mind. Let’s move on.”
“So, your complaint was that I somehow forced him into this, against his will?” Eric asked. “That couldn’t be further from the truth. You certainly didn’t ask him about it. Where did you get this idea?”
“Let’s discuss your policy on recreational drugs,” Drew interrupted. “This is a huge change from existing practices. How do you defend it?”
“Actually, it’s completely in line with existing practices,” Eric corrected. “The laws on alcohol and tobacco are that you’re allowed to use them, but you’re liable for any consequences. You can’t use drug-addled states of mind as an excuse for violating the law. And your health insurance isn’t going to pay endlessly for the damage you caused yourself with drug use. So, although they’re legal, they’re naturally discouraged. I’ve just extended that to all the other recreational drugs.”
“Including heroin? Fentanyl? Cocaine? Acid?!” Drew barked.
“Yes, all of them. But before you jump to conclusions, I want to make it clear that we don’t condone the use of any of them. It’s my understanding that most users of opiates set themselves up for deportation; if there are functional users of those substances, they’re pretty rare. And the dangers of cocaine seem to be mostly a consequence of how it was prepared for illicit transport, by distilling the essence from the plants using gasoline and whatnot. Now that it’s legal, powdered and crystallized cocaine have nearly vanished, in favor of coca leaf tea.”
“Really?” Drew snorted. “Coke addicts turned into tea drinkers overnight?”
“Of course not,” Eric explained. “The coke addicts generally do something to get themselves deported. Keep in mind that coca has been used for centuries, in its native countries, without the horrible problems we have here. That has to do with the way it’s used. Consuming coca leaf involves a lot of other compounds that, taken together, produce a profoundly different effect than concentrated cocaine powder.” Eric smiled. “You may have noticed that coca leaf tea bags are available in our break rooms, though it costs quite a bit more than regular tea. Have you tried it?”
“Of course not!” Drew huffed.
“Well, I have…but only once,” Eric offered. “Mostly, I just stick to caffeine. But there was a particularly bad night recently, where I had to stay up late to deal with a minor disaster. One bag of that tea at the end of my normal day, and I was bright and awake for the next four hours! I managed to solve the problem, and then had the deepest sleep I’ve had in a long time. So I can’t say I’ll ever do that again, but I certainly didn’t get addicted after one use. And from what I hear, most users of coca leaf tea report similar experiences.” He fixed Drew with his gaze. “Have you heard differently?”
“I…well, no,” Drew confessed.
Eric leaned in. “Did you simply assume that any use of drugs somehow equaled the worst possible use of them?” Drew didn’t reply; Eric sighed. “I’m fine with being challenged, but I have to admit, I was hoping for better-sourced counterarguments. All I’ve heard so far are strident emotions.”
“Well, I believe I have a less emotional argument,” Mrs. Verhage interjected. “I have big questions about the city’s foray into cryptocurrency. The conventional wisdom is that they’re merely speculative investments, but you intend to base the city’s finances on them. And why does it take an increasingly large number of dollars to buy them?”
“Wow…there’s a lot to unpack here,” Eric protested. “First, I agree, most cryptocurrencies have no inherent value, beyond what one is willing to pay for them; they’re fiat currencies, not backed by anything. Our city’s cryptocurrency isn’t like that; it’s backed by the full faith and credit of the city, its holdings, and its prospects for future success.”
“Isn’t the dollar backed by the ‘full faith and credit’ of the United States?” Mrs. Verhage declared.
“Indeed it is,” Eric countered. “And how is that doing these days?”
Mrs. Verhage didn’t answer; Eric continued. “That answers your second question, by the way — the dollar is losing value compared to our city’s currency.”
“Why did you go with a cryptocurrency?” Carl asked.
“Because it neatly solves our problem,” Eric explained. “One of the big limitations of creating corporation-run autonomous zones in the past has been money; in other words, how would they meaningfully issue their own currency? Cryptocurrency has solved that problem. And ours is backed by our city’s full faith and credit, which involves our extensive asset holdings.”
“Why not something more traditional, like gold and silver coins?” Carl asked. “That wouldn’t depend on the city’s reputation.”
“We’re more than happy to; we exchange our currency for gold and silver all the time,” Eric replied. “But using them as coins brings up the possibility of forgery. There are some high quality fakes out there, using metals such as tungsten to mimic the weight and density of gold. Although there are ways to spot fakes, they’re still beyond the ability of everyday people just trying to use them for currency. Besides, most people these days don’t pay cash; they use a credit card. Our cryptocurrency works like that, so nothing changes for them. In short,” Eric quipped, “it’s mostly the older generation that wants to pay with cash.”
“I see,” Carl mumbled.
“It’s not like merchants don’t take cash anymore,” Eric continued. “You can still pay with dollars anywhere in the city. But merchants seem to prefer our city’s currency, if for no other reason than it’s a better store of value.”
Stolen story; please report.
The room responded with silence. “Any other questions about our currency?” Eric probed.
“Let’s pivot to your policies on surveillance,” Carl brought up. “I, for one, have a big problem with that.”
“I’m not sure why you would,” Eric countered. “The city already had an extensive public surveillance system; we’re simply making full use of it. And the ‘global surveillance disclosures’ are old news now; everyone knows the world governments are watching all of us, all the time, and not with our best interests in mind. That’s the big difference here; the city isn’t interested in enforcing conformity, or collecting blackmail. We only care about genuine crimes against others, and when at all possible, only for the purposes of restitution.”
“How can I be sure of that?” Carl protested.
“Well, why don’t we take a look?” Eric offered as he stood up. Carl’s eyes grew wide. “Don’t worry, sir, we’ll do this with your laptop. Only you will see it.” Eric brought with him a portable retina scanner; he plugged it into Carl’s computer. “If you’ll allow me, sir, I need to log in to the central surveillance site with my credentials.”
“Be my guest,” Carl mumbled feebly.
Eric typed for a short while, then stared into the retina scanner. It brought up a new page with lots of red banners and strident warnings. “OK, now you log in with your credentials. I don’t have the authority to do that, but you’re allowed to look at your own records.” Eric turned his body, facing away from Carl. “So follow the instructions and then let it scan your retina.”
Carl did so; a few moment later, he let out a gasp. Eric raised his eyebrows. “I take it you found them?”
“Oh my…” Carl trilled.
“Some of it may be embarrassing, but the important part is on the ‘criminal summary’ tab. You can click on it if you want to read it, but before you do that…what color is it?”
“Green,” Carl answered.
Eric smiled. “I expected nothing less. That means nothing you’ve done is considered even vaguely criminal. Most people warrant a yellow, but not you.”
Carl chuckled as he found the contents of the criminal summary to be blank. “I guess I’m less off-put about this now.”
“I’m sure it gets better!” Eric piped up. “Click on the rightmost tab, labeled ‘rating’. What does it say?”
Carl clicked. “It says ‘24’. Is that good?”
“It’s excellent!” Eric exulted. “The median score is 50; higher numbers are worse. Anyone with a score over 90 tends to get deported immediately. And finally, click on the tab to the left of ‘rating’; it should be labeled ‘views’. What does it say?”
Carl clicked. “It has one line…dated a few minutes ago, with my name.”
Eric smiled. “That means you’re the only one that’s looked at your record. Anyone else would require probable cause, and as you just saw, there hasn’t been any. In addition, even looking at someone’s record leaves an audit trail. These logs are collectively signed and accrued cryptographically, just like transactions in our currency. It’s not possible to retract those log entries without invalidating a lot of other, unrelated records, which of course would get noticed quickly. So you can be confident that no one is snooping around.”
Carl let out a sigh of relief. “That’s great news. I never would have expected it to be set up like this.”
“I would demand nothing less!” Eric exulted. “Go ahead and close the window when you’re done.”
“I’m done,” Carl reported as he clicked. “I feel much better now.”
Eric turned back. “Think about what this means. The surveillance A.I. may see everything, but doesn’t act on it without cause. And with all the information it’s collected on you, it has determined that you’re an upstanding citizen. So, unlike every other surveillance state in the world, good people genuinely have nothing to fear from ours. It’s not meant for control; its job truly is fairness and restitution.” Eric looked across the table. “And the rest of you can look at your own records at any time. I can help you, or you can find a high-ranking security officer on your own.”
“I would prefer no surveillance,” one board member piped up.
“That ship has sailed.” Eric walked back to his seat and sat down. “Once it was technologically possible, the surveillance panopticon quickly became a reality. All I can do is try to minimize the evil consequences.”
“Is that the reasoning behind your surprisingly lax employment policies?” another board member asked. “Like your fanatical opposition to overtime?”
“A little, I suppose,” Eric confessed, “but mostly, I think it’s just common sense.”
“Mandatory overtime is the rule in most parts of the world,” the board member countered.
“Maybe, but that’s not a good thing, and Millenniaburg’s not like most parts of the world,” Eric pointed out. “This isn’t just another city; it’s a demonstration of a new way of life.”
“Here comes the messianic part again,” someone quipped. Arrogant chuckles washed over the room.
“With all due respect,” Eric asserted, “the court of public opinion is judging our effort here. We have to demonstrate that this is a better way to live than what’s offered elsewhere. One way we ingratiate ourselves to our employees is to not require overtime, or any other excessive commitment to their jobs. We realize people need to be able to live their lives. That’s not only a good way to avoid burnout, but it allows people to create value in other ways, such as raising good children, coming up with innovative ideas, or starting a sideline business that might end up creating additional value.”
“You want to lose good employees to their own ventures?” Mrs. Verhage dismissed.
Eric didn’t budge. “We consider this a small price to pay to ensure future stability.”
“You may be surprised to find it a very big price,” Mrs. Verhage snapped.
“On the contrary,” Eric defended. “It’s a huge draw for people tired of working themselves to death. Many are sick of running themselves ragged in government-run cities, and are grateful for the alternative. We may be deporting a lot of people, but our immigrants more than make up for that loss, and they’re much more hard-working, and of much higher quality, than the ones we lose.”
“What happens when that pipeline dries up?” Drew asked.
“That would only happen if the government starts running their cities better,” Eric answered. “Frankly, I like our odds.”
“But your ideas are so speculative,” a board member countered. “Nothing like this has ever been tried before.”
“Actually,” Eric replied, “they’re pretty standard libertarian ideas.”
“Really.” Mrs. Verhage’s icy voice dripped with venom. “I’m surprised you admitted that. Libertarianism has never run a government before.”
“I’m not sure why you would say that,” Eric protested. “The United States was effectively libertarian until around the 1930s, with ever-increasing regulation ever since. Sure, the 1929 stock market crash was a traumatic event, but the cure has become far worse than the disease, as one can see by the increasing chaos and signs of collapse all around us.” Eric stood up and leaned on the table, planting his hands firmly on the surface. “I hardly need to point out how the Federal Reserve has systematically destroyed the purchasing power of the dollar.”
No one responded; Eric continued, casting his glance over the assembled board members. “It’s long past time to throw out the old system…and do something that works.”
“You’re asking us to take a huge leap of faith,” another board member countered. “Libertarianism has failed every time it’s been tried.”
“You’re subscribing to a false binary fallacy,” Eric insinuated. “The choice is not between heavy regulation or no regulation; the truth, as always, is several shades of gray in between.” Eric leveled his gaze at the board member. “I put it to you that most of your counterarguments involve false strawmen.”
“Watch yourself,” the board member hissed. “You don’t know your place.”
Eric continued, undeterred. “Libertarianism, in its essence, is people interacting with each other by choice, setting up their own systems, formal and informal, to handle what would normally be done by a government. Technology has only made that more practical. Much of what governments had to regulate in the past can be handled by individual choice and widespread democratic communication, such as social media. The remainder can be handled by a vastly reduced government.” Eric relaxed and smiled. “And in the end, any excesses can be handled arbitrarily by application of the original ‘terms and conditions’. So there’s a ready-made escape hatch for anything you wish to impose.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Mrs. Verhage snarked. She looked around the room. “I think this is as good a time as any, wouldn’t you agree?” The board members all nodded, sly smiles on their faces. Eric’s brow furrowed as he perused them uncertainly.
“Mr. Thompson, despite your spirited presentation today, the board feels that too many of the consequences of your policies are unknown, and so we’ve drawn up a plan that favors a more traditional approach to governance. We’ll take a vote on it now, and then send you the details.”
Eric smiled cryptically. “I guess this is as good of a time as any to announce this.”
Mrs. Verhage reared, unsettled. “Excuse me…?”
Eric smiled as he raised a clicker to the television on the wall; it now displayed a labeled pie graph. “As you can see here, I and my supporters now control well over fifty percent of the shares, and we’re primed to vote in a new board of directors.”
“You can’t do that!” one board member protested.
“Of course I can,” Eric quipped. “It wasn’t my decision to make this a separate corporation, but this takeover is a natural consequence of that.”
He leaned in and leveled his gaze at his gawking audience. “Also, it wasn’t my idea to only provide half the seed money I asked for. But that did make it twice as easy to reach this milestone.” His only answer was a sea of gaping stares.
The laptop computers of all in attendance beeped; each turned to view their own screen. “The new board has been elected,” Eric announced. “Our first meeting is at the top of the hour, in this room. Those of you no longer on the board are welcome to attend it…as observers.”
Eric noticed Mrs. Verhage’s fuming glare. “Don’t be so surprised,” Eric consoled. “After all, it’s not like I personally own the company now. The majority owners are the city’s former debtholders. But they’re on my side, because they believe I’ll deliver a return on their investment. And together, we’ve elected a board that’s more in tune with their desires—” Eric pounded the table once. “—instead of the, shall we say, limited vision we’ve had to put up with until now.”
The sullen silence was almost deafening.
Eric turned to Carl. “So what do you think, sir?”
Carl’s chuckle soon grew into rolling laughter. “Well done, young man! I’m truly impressed!”
Eric smiled. “Thank you. I knew you’d understand. And that’s why I hope you consent to remaining the CEO on the new Unlimited Partners board.”
Carl beamed. “I’d be honored.”