Brooks is halfway through the employee training tutorial when his new supervisor walks in. He pauses the module — Party Staff and Responsibilities, row after row of sensory technicians in their pale blue coveralls, smiles frozen — as Dr. Wilson drags over the nearest chair with a groan.
“So, settling in all right?” the old man asks, catching his breath.
“Oh yes, sir.”
“Wonderful,” says Wilson. His beard is neat and professorial, his eyes twinkling. “I believe you’ll be quite impressed by our work here. Revolutionary, if I do say so myself.”
The Negative Utilitarian Party had swept the global elections. Pleasure-maximization was out, the pundits had proclaimed, and pain-reduction was now in: A new humanitarianism for a new era! With the incumbent Positive Utilitarians hopelessly splintered, their old-fashioned hedonism was declared dead and buried.
Wilson is feeling particularly expansive this morning, so he decides to give the boy the full lay of the land. “You know, Brooks,” he begins, gesturing toward the latticework of LEDs snaking the length of the wall, “these pain measurements are beamed in from citizens all over the globe. Here in Party headquarters, you’re looking at the most accurate dolorimeter reading anywhere on earth.” The constellation of numerals continues to cycle, and the man’s smile widens. “Look, we’re down another million pain units since just this morning!”
With their suite of high-powered AIs, the Negative Utilitarians aimed to banish suffering from all domains of human life: the school, the workplace, even the home and family — no territory was considered too sacred.
Wilson now motions beyond the low, gray ceiling, toward the roof. “Our receivers soak up neural signals like a massive sponge. A fractured arm here, a nasty breakup there. Even the smallest twinges of discomfort get factored into the total score.”
And the NUP’s results were hard to ignore. Within weeks after the election, traffic injuries had plummeted, terminal illness was cut off at the knees, child abuse became a thing of the past. Even the trivial hardships of day-to-day living were rendered obsolete. Rather than endure an agonizing wait at the grocery checkout, or another mindless conversation with a coworker, citizens could simply activate their retinal entertainment feeds — then rejoin their stream of consciousness during a less strenuous activity.
Of course, any new political program has its bumps along the way. After the NUP assumed office, infant and elderly deaths temporarily spiked due to the drastic reallocation of resources — or so it was explained. And it took another year for medical experts to notice that birth rates had inexplicably fallen across the globe. NUP officials laughingly chalked that up to natural ebbs and flows in libido, a previously oppressed humanity adjusting to a new, more enlightened way of life.
But despite these considerable missteps, global aggregate suffering continued to decline — as testified by the gleaming, real-time dolorimeters posted in every public square. So the Negative Utilitarians were forgiven.
Brooks clears his throat tentatively. “Dr. Wilson, all this talk of pain and suffering, doesn’t it come across as a bit, well, negative? The Positive Utilitarians had their problems, to be sure, but they were at least…positive.”
“Classic anti-NUP propaganda!” Wilson shakes his head, clearly disappointed. “You see, the problem is that humans can adapt to any surplus of pleasure, reaching a new baseline of bliss and contentment. No amount of happiness is ever enough.” A thoughtful pause. “Brooks, I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he says, his voice now taking on a conspiratorial tone. “Do you want to know the true source of all suffering?”
But before Brooks can venture an answer a news update pings on his mobile, eliciting a lazy double-tap. He scans the story, a dark frown now erasing his formerly bright smile. Another mechanical failure, this time at Saint Agnes Hospital of London; a whole nursery of newborns lost in their sleep. Painless, thankfully.
“Oh, what a tragedy!” the new sensory technician bellows, immediately guilty at his spike of discomfort. But Wilson just stares at him. Clearly, the kid is still learning the ropes.
The dolorimeter drops another million points.
—
John’s flash pieces have appeared or are forthcoming in Flash Fiction Magazine, The Drabble, 600 Second Saga, and Literally Stories, among others. Visit him on the web at https://pineapplemonarchy.com/
Very original with a healthy dose of science in the sci-fi. Good title, too.