The Common Room was unusually busy.
A committee had recently been established to investigate whether the number of committees at St Anselm's remained appropriate.
Interest was high.
Professor Quillibrace regarded this as evidence supporting the need for fewer committees.
The committee regarded it as evidence supporting the need for more data.
The matter remained unresolved.
Mr Blottisham arrived carrying a diagram.
Miss Stray immediately looked concerned.
"What is it?"
Blottisham unfolded it.
The diagram continued unfolding.
Several minutes later it reached its full extent.
It occupied most of a sofa and part of an armchair.
Quillibrace looked impressed.
"Good heavens."
"I know."
"Is that an organisation?"
"Yes."
"Which one?"
Blottisham consulted the title.
"'Integrated Recursive Optimisation Architecture'."
A pause followed.
Stray examined the diagram.
"What does it do?"
Blottisham looked uncertain.
"It optimises things."
Quillibrace nodded.
"So far, so familiar."
"But then it optimises the optimisation process."
"Naturally."
"And then it evaluates the optimisation of the optimisation process."
"Excellent."
"And then it reviews the evaluation process."
"Splendid."
Blottisham pointed proudly at a dense cluster of arrows.
"And then it improves the review mechanism."
The room became quiet.
Quillibrace smiled.
"It has achieved recursion."
"Has it?"
"Oh yes."
"How can you tell?"
"Because I've lost sight of the original activity."
The diagram lay across the furniture like an administrative octopus.
No one felt entirely comfortable in its presence.
After a while Stray spoke.
"I think I've found the starting point."
"Really?" asked Blottisham.
"No."
The three of them studied the diagram.
Eventually Quillibrace pointed.
"What is this box?"
Blottisham squinted.
"'Meta-Performance Governance Interface'."
"And this one?"
"'Strategic Enhancement Coordination Unit'."
"And this one?"
"'Recursive Excellence Integration Framework'."
Quillibrace nodded.
"A mature ecosystem."
Blottisham looked pleased.
"I thought you'd appreciate it."
"I do."
"Really?"
"No."
The fire crackled.
The diagram expanded slightly.
Quillibrace suspected it might be breeding.
Stray traced a line through the various arrows.
"What strikes me is that the system seems increasingly concerned with itself."
Blottisham frowned.
"Surely that's sensible."
"Why?"
"Because it improves itself."
Quillibrace smiled.
"An argument with a distinguished philosophical pedigree."
"It does?"
"Certainly."
"Who made it?"
"Mostly institutions."
The room fell quiet.
Blottisham studied the diagram again.
"It says here the organisation has reached Optimisation Depth Four."
Quillibrace sat upright.
"Depth Four?"
"Apparently."
"Good Lord."
"What does that mean?"
Stray glanced at the accompanying explanation.
"It means the organisation evaluates the systems that evaluate the systems responsible for improvement."
A silence followed.
Then Blottisham said:
"That sounds impressive."
Quillibrace nodded.
"It certainly sounds."
The diagram remained spread across the furniture.
Nobody could quite tell whether it represented a system or a weather pattern.
After a moment Blottisham continued.
"The report says this demonstrates institutional maturity."
"Does it?"
"Yes."
"It would."
Blottisham looked annoyed.
"Must you always be sceptical?"
"My dear Blottisham, I am not sceptical."
"No?"
"No."
Quillibrace gestured toward the diagram.
"I am simply curious whether any actual work survives inside it."
Stray laughed.
Blottisham looked scandalised.
"Of course it does."
"Where?"
"Somewhere."
The room became thoughtful.
Several arrows appeared to lead nowhere in particular.
Others seemed to return to where they started.
One appeared to have lost confidence entirely.
Eventually Stray spoke.
"I think the interesting question is what counts as success."
"That's easy," said Blottisham.
"It is?"
"Improvement."
"Improvement of what?"
"The system."
"And what is the system for?"
Blottisham hesitated.
The hesitation lengthened.
Quillibrace observed it with anthropological interest.
Finally Blottisham said:
"To facilitate improvement."
The room became very quiet.
Then Quillibrace nodded slowly.
"There."
"Where?"
"The completion of the circle."
The fire approved.
The diagram did not.
After a while Stray returned to studying the report.
"There was an audit."
"Oh?"
"Apparently the optimisation programme became so successful that most staff were occupied maintaining it."
"What happened to the original work?"
The room paused.
Blottisham turned several pages.
Then several more.
Then consulted an appendix.
Finally:
"It isn't entirely clear."
Quillibrace smiled faintly.
"A common symptom."
"What is?"
"The means becoming more visible than the end."
Blottisham folded the report.
"I still think this sounds successful."
"Of course you do."
"Why do you keep saying that?"
Quillibrace considered carefully.
"My dear Blottisham."
"Yes?"
"You possess a rare gift."
"What gift?"
"You can encounter a system that has forgotten its purpose and admire its consistency."
The room fell silent.
Even Blottisham seemed unsure whether to regard this as praise.
At length he asked:
"Isn't consistency important?"
Quillibrace looked thoughtful.
"Very."
"Then what's the problem?"
Quillibrace glanced toward the fire.
The fire, unlike most institutions, had a purpose obvious from its behaviour.
Then he replied:
"Consistency is an admirable servant."
A pause.
"It becomes considerably stranger when promoted to master."
No one spoke for a while.
The diagram remained spread across the room.
A monument to recursive achievement.
Or perhaps recursive persistence.
The distinction, increasingly, seemed difficult to locate.
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