IV: The Efficiency Reformation

The afternoon had acquired the kind of rain that suggested permanence.

Professor Quillibrace was reading a journal article with visible caution.

Miss Stray was making notes.

Mr Blottisham arrived carrying three reports.

Quillibrace looked at them.

"Trouble?"

"I'm afraid so."

"How many?"

Blottisham held up the reports.

"Three."

Quillibrace sighed.

"A schism."

Stray looked up.

"What sort?"

"Efficiency."

The room became quiet.

Quillibrace closed his journal.

"Good heavens."

"What?"

"Efficiency disputes are notoriously difficult."

"Why?"

"Because everyone agrees efficiency is important."

"Yes."

"And nobody agrees what it means."

Blottisham sat down heavily.

"That's exactly the problem."

He placed the reports on the table.

"The Outputists."

Quillibrace nodded gravely.

"Ah."

"The Inputists."

"Oh dear."

"And the Metricians."

Quillibrace closed his eyes.

"Then it is worse than I thought."

Stray smiled.

"Who are the Metricians?"

Blottisham looked surprised.

"They believe efficiency is whatever the dashboard measures."

A pause followed.

Then Quillibrace said:

"An admirably economical theology."

Blottisham ignored him.

"The Outputists say efficiency means producing more."

"Sensible."

"The Inputists say efficiency means spending less."

"Also sensible."

"And the Metricians say efficiency means improving the indicators."

The room became thoughtful.

Eventually Stray spoke.

"Those aren't actually the same thing."

"No," said Quillibrace.

"That's why they're arguing."

Blottisham frowned.

"I don't understand why everyone is making this so complicated."

Quillibrace looked interested.

"What would you propose?"

Blottisham considered.

Then:

"Perhaps efficiency means all three."

Stray laughed.

Quillibrace nodded approvingly.

"A classic ecumenical strategy."

"Is it?"

"Certainly."

"Does it work?"

"Almost never."

The fire crackled.

Rain continued its long negotiation with the windows.

Blottisham opened the first report.

"The Outputists have evidence."

"Of course they do."

"Productivity has increased by forty percent."

"Impressive."

He opened the second.

"The Inputists have evidence."

"Naturally."

"Costs have fallen by thirty percent."

"Also impressive."

Finally he opened the third.

"And the Metricians?"

Blottisham looked uncertain.

"They've redesigned the dashboard."

Quillibrace nodded.

"The radicals always arrive eventually."

Stray looked across the reports.

"What happened to the organisation itself?"

The room became silent.

Blottisham blinked.

"What do you mean?"

"The thing all three groups are discussing."

"The organisation?"

"Yes."

"What about it?"

Stray gestured at the reports.

"How is it doing?"

Blottisham looked at the reports.

Then at Stray.

Then back at the reports.

For some time.

Finally:

"I'm not sure."

Quillibrace smiled.

"A promising sign."

"It is?"

"Certainly."

"Why?"

"Because uncertainty has finally entered the discussion."

Blottisham looked unconvinced.

The reports remained open.

The organisation remained absent.

After a moment Stray spoke again.

"I think the interesting part is not the disagreement."

"What is it?"

"The agreement."

"The agreement?"

"All three factions assume efficiency is unquestionably desirable."

The room became quiet.

Quillibrace nodded.

"Very good."

Blottisham frowned.

"Isn't it?"

"Perhaps."

"That's not an answer."

"No."

"Then answer."

Quillibrace leaned back.

"My dear Blottisham, efficiency is rather like acceleration."

"How so?"

"One generally wishes to know in which direction."

A silence followed.

Blottisham stared into the fire.

Then at the reports.

Then at the fire again.

The idea appeared to be causing mild discomfort.

Eventually he brightened.

"I know."

"Oh dear," said Quillibrace.

"We need a conference."

Stray closed her notebook.

Quillibrace looked briefly toward the ceiling.

"A conference?"

"Yes."

"The solution to competing definitions?"

"Certainly."

"What would happen at this conference?"

Blottisham thought.

"The Outputists would present their evidence."

"Naturally."

"The Inputists would present theirs."

"Of course."

"The Metricians would demonstrate the dashboard."

"Unavoidably."

"And then?"

Blottisham smiled.

"They would reach consensus."

The room became very quiet.

Finally Stray asked:

"Consensus about what?"

The smile faded.

A long pause followed.

Blottisham looked genuinely puzzled.

Quillibrace watched him with great interest.

At length Blottisham said:

"I hadn't got that far."

"Few conferences do."

The rain intensified.

The fire responded by becoming marginally more committed to its vocation.

After a while Stray returned to her notes.

"I think what fascinates me is that each group is trying to answer the same question."

"Are they?" asked Quillibrace.

"Aren't they?"

"No."

The room became attentive.

Quillibrace continued.

"The Outputists are asking how to produce more."

"Yes."

"The Inputists are asking how to consume less."

"Yes."

"The Metricians are asking how to improve measurements."

"Yes."

He paused.

"None of them are asking what any of it is for."

Silence settled heavily over the room.

Even Blottisham did not immediately respond.

Finally he looked at the reports.

Then at Quillibrace.

Then at the reports again.

And said:

"That would make a much shorter conference."

Quillibrace smiled.

"My dear Blottisham."

"Yes?"

"It would make a much shorter civilisation."

The room fell quiet.

Outside, the rain continued.

Inside, three reports sat upon the table.

Each entirely convincing.

Each entirely incompatible.

And each, in its own way, perfectly efficient.