"The history of humanity is a history of small pockets of pleasure squeezed out of a continuum of misery. But, in the latter half of the twentieth century, North America has by and large done away with misery. We've replaced it with inconvenience..."
The room was the size of four football fields at least, two floors deep. There were hundreds of desks, possibly thousands, in neat rows. On each desk was a telephone and a computer console (personal effects were discouraged). The room buzzed with the clacking of keyboards, heated discussion and frenzied activity.
"Well...no, you don't understand. I don't want them! But, that company must not be allowed to sell its assets!" Clackety clack. "The handle worked its way loose and dropped off the toaster? Good. Are you sure you weren't seen?" Clackety clack. "Ham on rye...I know what he ordered, but give him ham on rye." Clackety clack! "If we were to delay the Prime Minister's plane by 15 minutes, he'd miss most of the opening ceremonies. No, they wouldn't hold the opening ceremonies for him...would they?" Clackety clack! "Great. How many socks does that make this month?" CLACKETY CLACK!
"Amazing, isn't it?" Boswell asked, looking down upon the floor from the window of his office. "This is the control centre of the entire operation, in operation 24 hours a day, every day of the year. It's a monumental achievement."
"Yes," Vimy responded, "it's very impressive. But, I'm still not sure what it's all in aid of..."
Boswell pulled the blinds and sat behind his desk. "Operation Chaos was created by MultiNatCorp to...disturb things. Stir them up. We're the people who make sure your car stalls on a cold morning, and that international arms negotiations stall all the time. We decide when styles change - which, by the way, is as often as we can get away with - and we're the ones who put rats in the bottom of cola bottles."
"Yes, yes," Vimy impatiently said, "I understand all that. But, what still isn't clear is why you go to all the expense."
"Well, OpinionsInc, MultiNatCorp's research branch, has determined that uncertainty and dissatisfaction are the biggest factors motivating consumers next to actual need. Why do people buy new fashions? Because we create dissatisfaction with old fashions. New cars? Dissatisfaction with old cars. New breakfast cereals? New detergents? New brands of milk or butter? New television programmes and political platforms? If we don't create needs for them by creating dissatisfaction with the status quo, new products won't get sold."
"Would that be so bad?"
"Catastrophic! Our economy is based on growth. If consumers don't buy large quantities of every new product released onto the market, the whole economic system collapses!"
"But, the cost!"
"...is incredible, I will admit. This building, for instance, houses one of the largest computers in the world. It creates scenarios at random for us to carry out - everything from having a cat run in front of a car to the assassination of a world leader - millions of them - and keeps track of all the details. As well as the thousands of people employed here, we have thousands of agents in the field, ready to do whatever we tell them to. Expensive? You have no idea."
"How can MultiNatCorp afford to run it?"
"MultiNatCorp can't afford not to run it."
"This is incredible. You're creating a generation of neurotic, uncertain people just so you can sell more products!"
Boswell got up and returned to the window. "Neurotic?" he mused. "I prefer to think of it as harnessing our evolutionarily developed "fight or flight" instinct to modern conditions. Besides, we're doing it for their own good. A little uncertainty is a lot better than mass unemployment."
"What if somebody found out?"
"Civilians must never know. It would destroy our effectiveness. But, if people knew and had to choose whether or not to support us, you know they'd be behind the project 100 per cent. Come here, Vimy."
Vimy stepped up to the window. "If you accept our offer, you'll get that desk down there." Boswell pointed halfway down the floor, to an empty desk a row away from the far wall.
"Next to that black woman?"
"That's right." Boswell swelled with pride. "MultiNatCorp is an equal opportunity employer, I'm happy to say." Lowering his voice, he added, "Your starting salary will be three times what you're making now, with plenty of room for advancement. We only hire the best."
Vimy hesitated. "Are you sure the public would approve of this...orchestrated chaos if they knew about it?"
Boswell smiled. "They would applaud our efforts," he said, certain.
"How can you be sure?"
"Consider the alternative..."
"What do you mean you were slow in responding? I want gridlock, Mister, and I want it now!" Clackety clack. "What if you melted a bit of the works? Would her key jam in the lock?" Clackety clack! "No, I'll be home late, dear. You wouldn't believe how the paperwork piles up!" CLACKETY CLACK!
