Entry 82. Backlash
Badiah Sinclair was quick to attempt to mollify the public outrage. I was surprised at how unwilling people had become to trust the great hero of Sirius 4.
In his address to the planet, he made the same arguments he had been making all along.
“I had no choice.”
“Like hell!” people barked back at the screen.
“ImagCorp intended to defend its business, and we were forced to comply with their demands.”
“Like hell!” people scrawled on walls and pavement.
“We could no longer allow Imaginary Structures to continue operations without concessions to ImagCorp.
“Like hell!” people roared in the streets.
And another phrase began to work its way into the public consciousness.
People receiving tax bills began to respond not with payment but with, “I choose not to participate.”
Building inspectors who visited construction sites were met not with a properly filed building permit but with, “I choose not to participate.”
Even marriages were performed without a license. More than one officiant who asked, “Well, shall we sign the license now?” was greeted with, “We chose not to participate.”
None of the speeches I had given about nonviolent noncooperation was as effective in convincing people as Badiah Sinclair’s violent cooperation with ImagCorp. Others took to the streets, but with gentle words, not implements of destruction. Most remarkable to me as I reflected in my cell: No one at Imaginary Structures had met fire with fire. Of 6,500 people in that crowd, surely some of them had brought their personal weapons to the scene. None fired back at the security officers.
As word spread beyond Sirius 4 about the incident at Ganges Pass, so did the outrage, and it soon became apparent that Sirians were not the first to wonder why ImagCorp still needed to license its basic technology 200 years after developing it.
Because ImagCorp left Badi Sinclair twisting in the wind.
“Like the people of Sirius 4, we condemn violence,” read the official statement from ImagCorp. “If Sirius 4 and Imaginary Structures Inc. wanted exemptions to our licensing program, all they had to do was ask. Those exemptions are hereby granted.”
I am tempted to write, “It was that easy.” But there is nothing easy about the sacrifice of 35 souls.
Showing posts with label ImagCorp. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ImagCorp. Show all posts
Monday, November 5, 2012
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Entry 28. Licenses and fees
Ah yes, ImagCorp.
There are two ways to make a living, and one of them is the honest way: Make something or do something that benefits others to the level where they’re willing to pay you for it.
You can also force others to buy your product or service by convincing a government either to buy or to require citizens to buy. Or you can create an artifical shortage with government’s help – perhaps by taxing your product, or by making it illegal to perform your service without a government-issued license, for example.
ImagCorp’s leaders were geniuses at this. Once their researchers began to unlock the secrets of imaginary power – developing spaceships that traveled far faster than light, creating machines that could transform a cube of protein into a delicious meal – they worked hard to protect the technology from pesky entrepreneurs who might improve on their work and compete with them.
Hand in hand with the Earthian government, they manufactured reasons – usually for the sake of planetary security – why imaginary technology could not be shared with just anyone. If you wanted to make something or perform a service powered by the imagination, first you needed a license from the company, and then you needed a permit from the government – perhaps several licenses and permits the more complicated your project.
This ensured that the first beneficiaries of your labors were ImagCorp and the government, and it discouraged the most promising potential competitors by making it prohibitively expensive to develop their goods – all in the name of planetary security, of course.
When Imaginary Structures Inc. made plans to open a research, development and manufacturing facility in a small city called Ganges Pass, the Earthian government imposed the usual permits and ImagCorp sought the usual licenses. Because these expenses ate up fully two-thirds of the initial investment, Imaginary Structures could not build a structure, let alone open its doors. Oh, it had plenty of capital to get started – if only it didn’t have to pay the exhorbitant fees for the “right” to get started.
Shortly after Sirius 4 declared its independence, President Badiah Sinclair made a fateful decision.
“After more than a century and a half, imaginary technology is public knowledge and belongs in the public domain,” Sinclair declared. His government would not demand the onerous and expensive permits, and ImagCorp had no right to charge a fee for common technology. Not on free Sirius 4.
Imaginary Structures was making product within a month. In hindsight it’s probably surprising that Earth waited another 19 months to send an occupational force. No doubt ImagCorp was agitating for the invasion all that time.
Lt. Joshua True’s second act, after first securing the offices of Sirian government, was to lock down the Imaginary Structures complex. Ganges Pass was fated to become a symbol of both of our revolutions.
Entry 29. Change the question
There are two ways to make a living, and one of them is the honest way: Make something or do something that benefits others to the level where they’re willing to pay you for it.
You can also force others to buy your product or service by convincing a government either to buy or to require citizens to buy. Or you can create an artifical shortage with government’s help – perhaps by taxing your product, or by making it illegal to perform your service without a government-issued license, for example.
ImagCorp’s leaders were geniuses at this. Once their researchers began to unlock the secrets of imaginary power – developing spaceships that traveled far faster than light, creating machines that could transform a cube of protein into a delicious meal – they worked hard to protect the technology from pesky entrepreneurs who might improve on their work and compete with them.
Hand in hand with the Earthian government, they manufactured reasons – usually for the sake of planetary security – why imaginary technology could not be shared with just anyone. If you wanted to make something or perform a service powered by the imagination, first you needed a license from the company, and then you needed a permit from the government – perhaps several licenses and permits the more complicated your project.
This ensured that the first beneficiaries of your labors were ImagCorp and the government, and it discouraged the most promising potential competitors by making it prohibitively expensive to develop their goods – all in the name of planetary security, of course.
When Imaginary Structures Inc. made plans to open a research, development and manufacturing facility in a small city called Ganges Pass, the Earthian government imposed the usual permits and ImagCorp sought the usual licenses. Because these expenses ate up fully two-thirds of the initial investment, Imaginary Structures could not build a structure, let alone open its doors. Oh, it had plenty of capital to get started – if only it didn’t have to pay the exhorbitant fees for the “right” to get started.
Shortly after Sirius 4 declared its independence, President Badiah Sinclair made a fateful decision.
“After more than a century and a half, imaginary technology is public knowledge and belongs in the public domain,” Sinclair declared. His government would not demand the onerous and expensive permits, and ImagCorp had no right to charge a fee for common technology. Not on free Sirius 4.
Imaginary Structures was making product within a month. In hindsight it’s probably surprising that Earth waited another 19 months to send an occupational force. No doubt ImagCorp was agitating for the invasion all that time.
Lt. Joshua True’s second act, after first securing the offices of Sirian government, was to lock down the Imaginary Structures complex. Ganges Pass was fated to become a symbol of both of our revolutions.
Entry 29. Change the question
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