Ethical Dilemmas, Thursday, (Per 1)

[deathsmajesty]

Liliana had reached out and informed the class that they would be meeting in the Danger Shop today several days before the island had decided to be cute. So, the giant steamer trunk that simply said THE MENDING (in all the alphabets that she could read, including Braille for maximum rudeness!) that had nearly blocked her in the room this morning hadn't only inconvenienced her--as well as proving her her previous decision both right and prescient. Had she thought that being in the Danger Shop would stop the luggage from appearing, however....well, that she was sad to discover was not to be.

And so, the class would arrive in the Shop currently mocked up to be a beautiful park, Liliana sitting on a pile of bags and suitcases and pretending very much that she wasn't. The base of her impromptu throne was a dresser trunk, where the letters -OSU could occasionally be seen when she shifted position, her feet were propped on a duffel bag with a J and an E showing on either side of her boots, and todays (real!) culinary offerings were spread over several hardbacked suitcases, with snippets like 'VEIL' and 'TAVE--' and '--NNIK--' peeking out from under the plates. Yes, she'd programmed in cloths to throw over them all, but somehow those cloths kept vanishing. Anyway, feel free to help yourself to the variety of breakfast tarts and pay no attention to the baggage behind the curtains, thank you. The park itself was lovely, however. The sun was warm, the grass green and soft and inviting, the air fresh, the sky blue (the mosquitos non-existent). Off in the distance was a playground area, where a group of preschool-aged children laughed and crawled all over the equipment. Off to the left a ways, a group a pregnant people were doing yoga. A circle of teens were throwing a discus around at each other, and somewhere out of sight, a person was playing a beautiful melody on a flute. Surrounding the park was a kind of solarpunk cityscape, full of greenery and trees and soaring, slightly futuristic buildings.

"In your time, you may have come across the phrase 'the brutal calculus of war,'" Liliana said once everyone had arrived and settled in for class. "But, in case you haven't, it's a phrase that is applied to the assessment that people make in an armed conflict to decide what is needed to succeed in their objectives and whether or not the objective is worth the cost. While sometimes, that calculation can be something relatively simple, like the dollar cost of the necessary equipment and supplies, more often - especially when the word brutal is appended - it's talking about the toll of life, both military and civilian, that a particular action will have. I have found that the further you get from where the fighting, bleeding, and dying are happening, the higher the 'acceptable losses' become. After all, it's easier to be 'rational' and 'appropriately detached' when people are abstract concepts - even moreso when they can reduced to mere numbers on the page. Losing a thousand people in a battle you're fighting is a slaughter. Losing a thousand people in a battle on the other side of the plane is a rounding error."

She settled back in her makeshift chair, nibbling on a douar asham. "Last week, most of you made the decision to walk away from Omelas," she continued. "Regardless of whether you went or stayed, many of you, even when told that 'in that day and hour all the prosperity and beauty and delight of Omelas would wither and be destroyed,' wished to rescue the child, to deliver them from the filth and isolation and hurt and fear that they lived in. And, in doing so, you were engaging in a brutal calculus of your own. One child, one life in exchange for an entire city. Because, again, it is easy, is it not? To weigh the specific suffering of a child against the abstraction of 'the greater good'? Different lives have different weights to them, though that exact calculus is your own. Generally, loved ones are worth more than strangers. Friends more than enemies. People in your 'tribe' than people outside of it. Civilian lives are worth more than soldiers', and children's worth more than adults'. Each person is different, but even if you believe that every life is sacred, some will be more sacred than others." Liliana had a constantly updating hierarchy of people and what it would take for their lives to zero out the equation.

Don't ask. You don't actually want to know.

"But, what is easy to decide in a solarium, surrounded by your peers and focusing only on a single child's misery, may become much harder when you are face to face with the people who will actually pay the price for your actions." She waved around the park, then pointed to various buildings. A hospital. A university. A day care. A market. "Welcome to Omelas, darlings. Today's ethical decision: decide whether or not you will be the personal architect of the city's downfall. Best of luck."

Comments

Sign In #3

[deathsmajesty]

Hitting that random button!

Re: Sign In #3

[even_bigger_teeth]

Luma Zarrin

Re: Sign In #3

[suitably_heroic]

Jack Rand

Listen to the Lecture

[deathsmajesty]

Eat your food, wrangle your baggage, try to peep other people's baggage...

And hey! You're getting exactly what you wanted, right? A chance to save the child!

You're welcome!

Re: Listen to the Lecture

[even_bigger_teeth]

Luma was there and nibbling on a tart rather peevishly, looking irritated and annoyed and upset, but it had nothing to do with any of the luggage and bags following her around, pretty and petite things edges in lace and rhinestones in pastel colors that read of issues like ANGER and HUNGER and JEALOUSY, like ARTHUR and ELEANOR and GRANDMOTHER, like INCONSEQUENTIAL and UNLOVEABLE and ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT.

No, it had to do with the fact that she'd come to class alone, after a big fight with her sister that morning about Eleanor refusing to leave the room with her own baggage. It left her on edge, and it made her upset and sad and violent and all sorts of other things that were surely great things to bring into this class today, but there they were, and she wanted to cry and she wanted to tear something apart, and instead she was just going to dourly eat a tart while listening about this stupid fake society and all the stupid fake people in it and wondering why she should even care at all.

Re: Listen to the Lecture

[stykera]

Stark had plenty of baggage. One very large trunk just had a number printed on it.
Other bags had names, some had words in multiple languages, some were brightly colored and some were dull and worn.

He did not enjoy days like this.

Re: Listen to the Lecture

[gospel_of_oblivion]

Illyana was proudly sitting on top of a large steamer trunk with ISSUES WITH AUTHORITY emblazoned on the side. What? It was harmless in the grand scheme of things, and one she openly admitted to in multiple classes.

But every time a new bit of baggage appeared with a quiet thump next to Illyana, she yawned in a manner that showed all her teeth (including her fangs), opened a portal on the floor that, if peered into, offered a spectacular bird's eye view of high mountains, fire, brimstone, and all the stereotypical trappings of hell, and with one nudge of her high-top clad foot, and down it would tumble into the hole, the portal snapping closed the moment the baggage was clear of Fandom.

Rinse and repeat, every time a new one showed up. And if her classmates took the chance to toss their own in, well, she wasn't going to say anything.

Re: Listen to the Lecture

[deathsmajesty]

At some point, Liliana had gotten up to get more tarts, and whoops! A number of large trunks that had inexplicably come with her ended up falling into one of those portals as well.

Ah well. Surely nothing of importance.

So What Happens?

[deathsmajesty]

"So, let me explain how this works. You have discovered exactly what will happen if you save the child - and no, it is not that the heavens will open up and destroy the city."

She'd thought about it, but had decided to go with something a little less exaggerated.

"What happens immediately is simply this: the power grid that runs the city will fail. Not catastrophically, there will be no explosions or fires, but everything that runs on and relies on the power will simply stop and no backups will take their place. In time, they may be able to find another source of power, of course, but they will be starting from scratch. The magic of the bargain powers Omelas, and without it, they have nothing. Furthermore, the land will begin to die. Plants and crops will wither and fail. Not all of them, but a lot. What remains will be enough to feed a percentage of the city, but only a very small percentage.

"That, of course, doesn't sound so bad, at least on the surface. It's when you begin to think about what happens next that you start to see the cascade. Their food stores, normally abundant, will diminish as the land fails and their surplus from previous years all relied upon the power to keep it fresh - and, of course, the refrigerators and freezers will have all failed. The various hospitals will be the hardest hit without power - Omelas has not eradicated illness and disease. They've lessened it considerably, especially those that come from environmental stressors, but...people still get injured. Hearts still give out. Tumors still grow. Old age still wears down the body. The machines that keep people going will stop. The freezers that keep the medications cold will fail. Pregnancy and labor--" she gestured towards the yoga group "--will revert to the dangerous undertakings that they had been in years gone by.

"Without power, they will lose access to sanitation services - plumbing and sewage and water treatment and even trash disposal and pickup. The amount of filth that a city this size can generate over the course of a few days is substantial. People will get sick. Hospitals, even as hamstrung as they are, will be overrun: people eating spoiled food, drinking dirty water, living among trash and sewage, dealing with the influx of vermin and bugs. Violence will break out as resources run low and stressors run high. I'm sure you can imagine other consequences, like the utter loss of communications and transportation services, but those are the highlights."

She paused to give people a chance to come to grips with that and ask any questions if they had them.

The Assignment

[deathsmajesty]

"So, this is how it will work," Liliana said. "You are free to wander around Omelas. Talk to people if you wish. Explore the city. Talk to one another. After twenty minutes, you will be able to go to the basement where the child is, if you wish, either to make your decision or simply to see the child for yourself." After all, it wouldn't be fair to only show one side of the dilemma. It was important to see what would be lost if they chose to rescue the child, yes--but it was also important to see what was at stake if they did not. "At twenty minutes before the end of class, the simulation will end to ensure we have enough time for discussion, giving you a twenty minute window in which to act--or not act. You may actively choose to rescue the child and damn the city. You may actively choose to protect the city and damn the child. Or you may choose to not make a decision at all...in which case the city and child continue exactly as they are now."

Either way, she was going to grill you about whatever you ended up doing. That shouldn't be a surprise by this point, though.

"Twenty minutes to explore, about ten minutes to decide, though you're welcome to take as much or as little of that time as you need, and at least twenty minutes to discuss. Any questions?"

Ask Questions

[deathsmajesty]

If you've got 'em!

Re: Ask Questions

[mustbeawitch]

Lydia, surrounded by a pile of bags labeled with things like FLIGHTY and FRIVOLOUS and BAD SISTER, was suddenly in her element with this new information.

"If it's a magical bargain, I have a number of questions about that. What were the alternatives, that the people who made this bargain decided this was an acceptable price? How does it function? I should like to speak to anyone who made or maintains the spell," possibly on the subject of what the hell they had been thinking, "And I should like to see the structure of the spell, in order to determine how it might be altered without bringing the whole thing down." The whole spell might deserve to be ripped down, but she was willing to first attempt alteration.

Re: Ask Questions

[gospel_of_oblivion]

"Are there other cultures or non-Omelan settlements on this planet?" Illyana asked, "--and if so, are they also party to this deal, or will they be affected by it?"

Explore the City

[deathsmajesty]

How can I tell you about the people of Omelas? They were not naive and happy children--though their children were, in fact, happy. They were mature, intelligent, passionate adults whose lives were not wretched. O miracle! But I wish I could describe it better. I wish I could convince you. Omelas sounds in my words like a city in a fairy tale, long ago and far away, once upon a time. Perhaps it would be best if you imagined it as your own fancy bids, assuming it will rise to the occasion, for certainly I cannot suit you all. For instance, how about technology? I think that there would be no cars or helicopters in and above the streets; this follows from the fact that the people of Omelas are happy people. Happiness is based on a just discrimination of what is necessary, what is neither necessary nor destructive, and what is destructive. In the middle category, however--that of the unnecessary but undestructive, that of comfort, luxury, exuberance, etc.-- they could perfectly well have central heating, subway trains, washing machines, and all kinds of marvelous devices not yet invented here, floating light-sources, fuelless power, a cure for the common cold. Or they could have none of that: it doesn't matter. As you like it.

I incline to think that people from towns up and down the coast have been coming to to Omelas during the last days before the Festival on very fast little trains and double-decked trams, and that the trains station of Omelas is actually the handsomest building in town, though plainer than the magnificent Farmers' Market. But even granted trains, I fear that Omelas so far strikes some of you as goody-goody. Smiles, bells, parades, horses, bleh. If so, please add an orgy. If an orgy would help, don't hesitate. Let us not, however, have temples from which issue beautiful nude priests and priestesses already half in ecstasy and ready to copulate with any man or woman, lover or stranger, who desires union with the deep godhead of the blood, although that was my first idea. But really it would be better not to have any temples in Omelas--at least, not manned temples. Religion yes, clergy no. Surely the beautiful nudes can just wander about, offering themselves like divine souffles to the hunger of the needy and the rapture of the flesh. Let them join the processions. Let tambourines be struck above the copulations, and the gory of desire be proclaimed upon the gongs, and (a not unimportant point) let the offspring of these delightful rituals be beloved and looked after by all. One thing I know there is none of in Omelas is guilt.

But what else should there be? I thought at first there were no drugs, but that is puritanical. For those who like it, the faint insistent sweetness of drooz may perfume the ways of the city, drooz which first brings a great lightness and brilliance to the mind and limbs, and then after some hours a dreamy languor, and wonderful visions at last of the very arcane and inmost secrets of the Universe, as well as exciting the pleasure of sex beyond all belief; and it is not habit-forming. For more modest tastes I think there ought to be beer. What else, what else belongs in the joyous city? The sense of victory, surely, the celebration of courage. But as we did without clergy, let us do without soldiers. The joy built upon successful slaughter is not the right kind of joy; it will not do; it is fearful and it is trivial. A boundless and generous contentment, a magnanimous triumph felt not against some outer enemy but in communion with the finest and fairest in the souls of all men everywhere and the splendor of the world's summer: This is what swells the hearts of the people of Omelas, and the victory they celebrate is that of life. I don't think many of them need to take drooz.

[Mod away a utopian city, if you'd like to explore, or RP with one another! You can also mod interactions with people, though I should be around to RP them this afternoon.]

Re: Explore the City

[suitably_heroic]

Jack didn't have any questions. Jack didn't even need to be here to make any decisions.

Or not make them. Or whatever sat in between.

But he stuck his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and he went walking anyway. It was always strange, the Danger Shop - life without the recognizable feeling of actual life. But he went. And he watched someone's idea of a utopia buzz around him.

Re: Explore the City

[even_bigger_teeth]

Perhaps it was just the mood she was in that morning, but Luma felt as though she didn't need to think about this much at all. She already made her decision, she felt, and that was that she did not care what happened to Omelas and the people within it if the child was....not even freed, mind you, just shown a kind gesture or word! Ugh! As far as she was concerned (and there was a new bag showing up or perhaps growing bigger so that she noticed it more now that read GRANDMERE), if they had to do that to one of their own to achieve it, then they didn't deserve this happiness.

But she was curious, about at least one thing, and she knew she'd feel better if she spent her time before 'deciding' in a form that felt better to her than her human skin right now. So she shifted, and, in her wolf form, she started to prowl through the streets of Omelas. She didn't have any questions, anyway; she didn't care what they had to say. But she did wonder what they might make of a wolf among them, hulking and growling and temperamental, and, maybe, after the allotted time, she might at least start to feel a little better, just for not having to deal with being human for a while.

(And maybe it would be a good reminder, too, of just how little she actually did care about these very human dilemmas).

See The Child

[deathsmajesty]

"The room is about three paces long and two wide: a mere broom closet or disused tool room. In the room, a child is sitting. It could be a boy or a girl. It looks about six, but actually is nearly ten...The terms are strict and absolute; there may not even be a kind word spoken to the child.

[So! I don't want to RP this out, for what I think are obvious reasons! You can have your character come to just look at the child, or to free them (Liliana will make it very clear that even just speaking kindly to the child counts as choosing to free them), or you can choose to not have your character come here at all. As always, you can also just mod that your character visited, regardless of whether you ping in here or not.

You can get a refresher on the child's conditions here, or read it in full here, but again, trigger warning for disturbing imagery.]

Re: See The Child

[suitably_heroic]

And just like Jack decided to walk the city, even though he didn't need to, he stopped by here too. Watched. And left again.

Make Your Decision

[deathsmajesty]

Do you free the child or not? Do you make a decision at all?

Discussion

[deathsmajesty]

At the forty minute mark, the sim changes into a classroom configuration (though everyone's baggage remains, sad to say). Liliana is waiting to ask you about your decision, of course, but also has some additional discussion questions.

What Did You Decide And Why?

[deathsmajesty]

The most basic (and obvious) questions!

Why?

[deathsmajesty]

"Why this lesson? Why this simulation? What do you think the point of all this was?"

The Point of the Story... (Extra Credit)

[deathsmajesty]

"In the short story, after describing the beauty of the city, the narrator asks, Do you believe? Do you accept the festival, the city, the joy? No? Then let me describe one more thing. And once the description of the child and the effect on the community is complete, the narrator adds, Now do you believe them? Are they not more credible?

"The whole reason the child and their plight is manufactured and included is because the narrator (and through them, the author) doesn't believe that anyone would believe in a utopian society without some kind of horrific secret. The suffering is required for belief.

"Is this true? Is the joy that is Omelas believable without someone having to suffer for it? What is the story trying to say about us and our societies?"

Talk to Liliana

[deathsmajesty]

As she willfully ignores any and all additional baggage!

OOC

[deathsmajesty]

Need...sleep...