He was right. He had us there. We all looked a little embarra.s.sed.

"Well, what do we do now?" wailed Mariette.

"I don't know. I'm not the government anymore. You overthrew me. You took away my power. All I'm doing now is following orders. Your orders. I'll do anything with this money that a majority of you can agree on."

It took less than thirty seconds to pa.s.s a resolution requiring the disburs.e.m.e.nt of all funds collected in the recent taxation.

Whitlaw nodded and opened his desk drawer. He started counting coins. "Uh, we have a problem-there are forty-four of you in this cla.s.s. But there are only thirty caseys here. If you'll remember, the former government spent eighteen caseys on an army."

Four people stood up to author the next resolution, requiring the return of funds paid to former members of the Imperial Guard. Whitlaw vetoed that. "Sorry. Doesn't that fall into the realm of confiscation? Remember the five-casey note I took unfairly? You just had a rebellion because you didn't want a government able to do that. Now you're setting up a new government to do exactly the same thing."

"But this is different-"

"No it isn't! Confiscation is confiscation! It doesn't matter who does the confiscating-the person still loses something!"

"But ... then how do we redress previous wrongs?"

"I don't know either. You're the government now. You tell me."

"So why can't we just take the money back?"

"Because the army was fairly paid. They did their job and they were paid a fair wage for what they did. You can't take that money away from them now because it's theirs."

"But you had no right to give it to them!"

"Yes, I did! I was the government!"

Hank Chelsea was standing then. "Wait a minute, sir! I think we all understand what you're trying to teach us. We have to find a fair way to do this, don't we?"

"If you can, you'll be a better man than I am. In the eleven years that I've been teaching this cla.s.s, not one session has ever found a way that was both fair and legal to take money out of one person's pocket and put it into another's." He motioned for Hank to sit down. "Let me give you this to think about: a government-any government-is nothing more than a system for reapportioning wealth. It takes money from one group of people and gives it to another group of people. And when it happens that enough people decide that they don't like the way the wealth is being reapportioned, that's when that government will be replaced by another one more to the people's liking. As has happened here! But you cannot use the new government to redress all of the wrongs of the previous government-not without creating far more problems than you'll ever clean up. You'll end up with a government entirely concerned with past events and not present ones. That's a sure way to set yourself up to fail. If you're going to win at this game, you have to deal with circ.u.mstances the way they are, not the way they used to be or the way you'd like them to be. In other words, only operate on those events you have control over. That's the only way to produce results. The real question, then, is, what do you have control over? We'll probably spend the rest of the semester tackling that one. Right now, let's handle the immediate problem." He opened his desk drawer. "There are forty-four of you and only thirty caseys here. If you don't reimburse the six members of the Imperial Guard, you're still going to be eight caseys short. And one of you is going to be at least four caseys short because I took a fiver off him."

It was moved, seconded and approved to return four caseys to Geoff Miller to bring his loss into line with the rest of ours. This left the national treasury at twenty-six caseys. We were now short twelve caseys if we wanted to return the money equally.

One of the former members of the Imperial Guard stood up. "Here, I'll give back the extra two caseys that Whitlaw paid me. I don't think it's fair for me to keep it." He poked his buddy, who also stood up. "Yeah, me too." Two more former soldiers also chipped in then, but the last two just sat in the back of the room with their arms folded.

"We earned it fairly. We're ent.i.tled to it."

"Well," said Whitlaw, "that brings the national debt down to two caseys. Not bad. Now all you have to do is decide who gets the short straws."

"This isn't fair!" said Mariette again.

Whitlaw agreed with her. "You're beginning to see it. No matter how hard we try, the government cannot be fair to everybody. Cannot. The very best that it can do is treat everybody equally unfairly."

The immediate cla.s.sroom problem was finally resolved when John Hubre realized that the casey isn't indivisible. Thirty-eight students, each of whom had paid one casey in taxation, were repaid ninety-four cents each. There was twenty-eight cents left over. Whitlaw started to pocket it, but Hank Chelsea said quickly, "Sorry-that's the national treasury. We'll have one of our own hold it, if you don't mind."

Whitlaw pa.s.sed it over with a grin. "You're learning," he said.

TWENTY-SIX.

"ALL RIGHT," said Whitlaw. "Obviously, there was a point to that little exercise. No, put your hands down. I'm just going to give you this straight out. There's no such thing as a government."

He looked around the room. "Point to it. Show me the government. Show me any government." He waved our hands down again. "Forget it. You can't. You can show me some buildings, and some people and some rules written down on paper, but you can't show me a government. Because there's no such thing in the physical universe. It's just something we made up. It exists only by our agreement that it does. You just proved that here. We agreed that we wanted some stuff managed and we agreed on some rules for how it should be managed. The agreements are the government. Nothing else.

"How big the government gets depends on how many agreements you make. If enough people agree, we'll build some buildings and hire some people to work in them and manage the agreements for us. Now, here's the question-how do you know if something is the business of the government or not?-that is, the business of the people we've hired to work in our buildings and manage our agreements for us. How do they know what to manage? What's the test?

"No-put your hand down. It's too simple. A person, place, or thing is in the jurisdiction of a government if it tests that government's agreements. If it doesn't, it isn't.

"The government doesn't have to manage the people who keep the agreements. They don't need managing. They're being responsible. It is the business of the government to manage those people who test the agreements. This is it. The whole of government consists of the art of managing people to keep the agreements-especially those who do the managing."

Whitlaw moved thoughtfully to the back of the room. He sounded as if he were speculating idly aloud. "Now ... management is decision-making, right? Anyone not see that? So, the question is-what are the guidelines by which the managers make their decisions? What is the meter-stick?" He looked around at us.

Marcie something-or-other: "The agreements, of course. The rules."

Whitlaw snorted. "Not b.l.o.o.d.y likely. The rules are just the context-the authorization for the decisions. In fact, the history of this nation is about men and women not following the rules. History is a list of who tested what agreements.

"Every time an agreement is tested, the person whose responsibility that agreement is, is also being tested. So, what does that person use for guidelines?-particularly when there are no guidelines! What is the source of that person's choice?" Whitlaw shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and turned slowly around, making sure we were all paying attention. When he spoke, his voice was low and quiet. "The truth is that ultimately every single choice ... is a reflection of the integrity of the individual making it."

"You might want to notice that-that everything we've done in this country, everything that we've accomplished-good or bad -in nearly two and a half centuries, has been done out of the integrity-or lack of integrity---of people like ourselves who are willing to make decisions and be responsible for them, especially when they know those decisions will be unpopular."

I wondered what he was working toward. He wandered back to the front of the room and sat down on his desk, facing us with an antic.i.p.atory expression on his face.

"Do you think the Moscow Treaties were fair?" he asked abruptly.

The cla.s.s was divided. Some thought yes, some thought no. Most weren't sure.

Whitlaw said, "Well, let's look at it from the rest of the world's point of view. How do you think we looked to them?"

"We're the home of the free, the land of the brave-all the refugees come here." That was Richard Kham Tuong. He had almond eyes, brown skin and curly blond hair. He said it proudly. "People come here looking for freedom. We're a source of hope."

"Uh huh," said Whitlaw, unconvinced. He stood up and strode casually back to stand directly in front of Richard Kham Tuong. "Let me run some statistics by you. One half of the world's population goes to bed hungry every night. There are nearly six billion people on this planet-but the three hundred million who are lucky enough to live in the United States consume one-third of the planet's resources every year. For most of the last century, it was closer to one-half, by the way. Do you think that's fair?"

"Uh . . ." Richard recognized that as a loaded question and did the only thing he could. He stalled.

"Or let me try it another way," Whitlaw went on. He was sandbagging Richard now; we all knew it. "Suppose we order a couple of pizzas for this cla.s.s. There are twenty-two very thin slices in a pizza, so there should be just enough for everybody to have a little bit. But when they arrive, I take fifteen of the slices for myself and leave the rest of you to fight over what's left. Is that fair?"

"You're loading the question, sir. Obviously, the way you say it, it's not fair."

"Well, what do you think we should do about it?"

"Everything we can, I guess."

"All right. Let's see. Are you willing to give up all of your clothes except what you're wearing now? Are you willing to survive on one meal of rice and beans per day? Are you willing to give up your automobile? And all use of electricity? Because that's the kind of sacrifice it would take-every single American would have to give up that much before we would be able to start paying back our debt to other nations. Are you ready to agree to that?"

There was silence in the cla.s.sroom. n.o.body wanted to be the first to admit it.

"It's all right," encouraged Whitlaw. "You'll notice I'm not ready to go hungry either."

"Okay, so we're selfish-what's the point?"

"That is the point. That's how we look to the rest of the world. Like pigs. Rich and fat and selfish. Let's go back to the pizza a.n.a.logy. Here I am sitting with my fifteen slices. Are you going to let me get away with it?"

"Of course not."

"Then you think you're justified in restricting me?"

"Of course."

"All right, now you understand part of what the Moscow Treaties were about. Yes, there was a war-and the Moscow Treaties were aimed at the causes of it. A very large part of it was the perception that the United States had been selfish with the world's resources."

"Wait a minute!" Paul Jastrow said. "That's only in the eyes of the other nations. There's another side to that argument, isn't there?"

"I don't know," Whitlaw said innocently, his blue eyes twinkling. "Is there? You tell me."

Paul Jastrow sat down, frowning. He had to think about this. Joey Hubre raised his hand. "Sir, I read somewhere that the problems that the United States has been experiencing for most of our history have been the problems of success, not failure."

"So?"

"Well ... I mean, um, I hope I get this right. The article said that the size of a success is proportional to the amount of energy invested, and that all of the technological advances that have occurred in this country could have only occurred because of the huge amount of resources available to apply to the problems."

"And-?"

"Well, the point was that this justified our prodigious energy appet.i.te. You have to put fuel in the jet if you want it to go. The other nations in the world have benefited from our advances. They can buy the fruits of the technology without having to invest in all the research. Um, the article used energy satellites as the example. A poor nation-a landbound one-doesn't have to develop a whole s.p.a.ce program to have an energy station in s.p.a.ce. They can buy one from us for only two million caseys. It was the United States that spent billions of caseys developing the industrial use of s.p.a.ce, but everybody benefits."

"I see-and that justifies it?"

"Would it have been better for us to have spent that money on food for the poor? We'd still have lots of poor people today, but we wouldn't have energy stations in s.p.a.ce. And those energy stations may eventually make it possible for poor nations to feed all their people."

Whitlaw kept his face blank. "If you were one of those poor people, Joey, how would you feel about that? No, let me be even more graphic. If you were a poor farmer, and your wife and three children were so malnourished that together the five of you weighed less than a hundred kilos, how would you feel about that?"

"Uh . . ." Joey sat down too.

Where was Whitlaw going with this? A lot of people were starting to get angry. Were we wrong for enjoying what we had? Paul Jastrow spoke up for all of us. He was slouched low in his chair and had his arms folded angrily across his chest. "It's our money," he said. "Don't we have the right to say how we want to spend it?"

"Sounds good to me-except what if it isn't all your money? Remember, we've been consuming nearly one-half the world's resources for most of a century. What if it's their money too?"

"But it wasn't their money-it was their resources. And they sold them to us on a free market."

"A free market which they claim we manipulated to our advantage."

"And they haven't manipulated back?"

"Ah, I didn't say that." Whitlaw was trying to keep a careful neutrality. He held up a hand. "I don't want to repeat the whole argument-that's not what we're going for today-but are you beginning to understand the nature of the disagreement? Do you see the validity of both points of view?"

A general murmur of a.s.sent swept the room.

"Now," said Whitlaw, "we've seen how a group of people can make a decision that affects all of them, and that decision can still be unfair. Most of the nations on this planet think the Moscow Treaties were fair. Do you?"

We thought about it. Some of us shook our heads. "Why not?" Whitlaw pointed.

"Our economy was almost destroyed. It took us over a decade to recover."

"Then why did we agree to those treaties?"

"Because the alternative was war-"

"They had us outnumbered-"

"We didn't have a choice-"

"All right, all right-" He held up his hand again. "All of that is all very well and good-but I want you all to consider something else now. Isn't it possible that your perception of the treaties' unfairness is a biased perception, a product of your own subjective points of view?"

"Uh..."

"Well ... "

"Sure, but . . ."

"No." That was Paul Jastrow. Everybody turned to look at him. He said, "It doesn't matter how many people say it's right if it isn't. We just spent a whole session learning that everything a government does is going to be unfair to somebody, but a good government tries to minimize the unfairness."

"Uh huh. . . ." Whitlaw nodded. He was wearing his devil's advocate expression and using a pleasant, noncommittal tone of voice. "But isn't that what the Moscow Treaties were supposed to do? Establish a more equitable distribution of the world's resources?"

"Yes, but they did it wrong-they were confiscatory. And you just demonstrated to us that you can't redress old wrongs that way without creating new wrongs."

Whitlaw picked up his clipboard and made a note. "You're right." He sat down on the edge of his desk and did something very unusual-for Whitlaw. He lowered his voice. He said, "A large part of this course is supposed to be about the Moscow Treaties, so you'll understand why they were necessary. And I think now you understand why many Americans resented them. It felt like we were being unfairly punished for being successful. And it didn't matter to the other nations that all of our studies and data models and simulations showed that most of their starving populations were beyond saving-they still felt that they had to make that commitment to try-"

"But not with our resources-"

"Hush a moment, Paul," said Whitlaw, uncharacteristically polite. "Let me finish this. It didn't matter what we felt. We were outvoted. The other nations of this world were going to see that we cooperated whether we wanted to or not-because data simulations or no, they still had to try to save their starving populations. And yes, it was unfair the way it was done-and that's a large part of what I wanted you to realize-but that was the best solution they could come up with. And yes, it was a punitive one-"

He stopped to catch his breath. He looked a little gray. Janice MacNeil said, "How come it was never explained this way before? I mean, all the news ever said was that it was our own n.o.ble sacrifice to help the rest of the world. I never heard before that they were holding a gun to our heads."

"Well, which would you rather believe? That you're doing something because you're being charitable or because you're being forced to? If you were President, which would be easier to sell to the electorate?"

"Oh," she said. "But didn't anybody notice?"

"Sure, lots of people did. And they said so, very loudly-but n.o.body wanted to believe them. Remember, most people were so relieved at having avoided a nuclear war they were willing to believe that its non-occurrence was proof of the n.o.bility of both sides. They were eager to believe it, rather than that someone had blackmailed someone else under the table. People who complained were called extremists; after all, you don't have to listen to extremists. It's easier than you think to devalue a truth that you don't want to hear. And remember this: any unpopular idea is going to look extreme, so you want to be responsible in how you present it. It is almost always dangerous to be right-and it is certainly dangerous to be right too soon."

"Well-um, does the government know now? I mean, what did we do about it? Or what are we going to do about it?"

Whitlaw said, "The process of making that decision has been going on for almost twenty years now. We are doing it every day. We are surviving. We are continuing-and we're contributing.