When Clara arrived in the town, the first thing she saw was a sign.
It said:
WELCOME TO BELLWETHER
EVERY ARGUMENT IS RIGHT
Underneath, in smaller letters:
NO EXCEPTIONS.
Clara thought this was an unusual thing for a town to advertise.
She walked on.
At the crossroads she found a policeman.
“Excuse me,” she said. “Could you tell me how to get to the station?”
“Certainly.”
He pointed left.
“Thank you.”
“You're welcome.”
Clara took three steps.
The policeman called after her.
“Actually, it's right.”
She turned around.
“Right?”
“Yes.”
“You said left.”
“I know.”
“Which is it?”
“Left.”
“But you just said right.”
“Exactly.”
Clara stared at him.
The policeman smiled.
“You asked how to get to the station. You didn't ask which direction it was.”
“That seems rather important.”
“Only if you're interested in arriving.”
“I am.”
“Then you should go right.”
Clara went right.
After a hundred yards she saw a sign:
STATION — LEFT
She turned around.
The policeman was gone.
The road divided into two.
A sign pointed left:
STATION
Another pointed right:
NOT THE STATION
Clara chose left.
A man sitting beside the road called out:
“You can't go that way.”
“Why not?”
“Because the station is on the right.”
“But the sign says—”
“The sign doesn't lie.”
“Then why does it point the wrong way?”
“It doesn't.”
“It says station.”
“Yes.”
“And the station is on the right.”
“Yes.”
“Then the sign is wrong.”
The man looked shocked.
“That's impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because it says STATION.”
Clara looked at the sign.
She looked at the man.
Then she looked at the road.
“Where is the station?”
The man pointed left.
Clara followed the road.
It led directly back to him.
He smiled.
“You see?”
“No.”
“The station is this way.”
“But we haven't moved.”
“Exactly.”
Clara decided to ask someone else.
She found a woman sitting outside a café.
“I'm looking for the station.”
“You're against the station?”
“No.”
“Then you're for it.”
“I'm neither for nor against it. I want to find it.”
“Why?”
“To catch a train.”
“So you want to leave.”
“Yes.”
“Then you don't like the town.”
“I didn't say that.”
“But if you liked the town, you wouldn't want to leave.”
“That doesn't follow.”
“It follows perfectly.”
“Why?”
“Because people leave places they don't like.”
“People also leave places they like.”
“Some people do.”
“So you agree with me.”
“No.”
“You just said some people leave places they like.”
“Yes.”
“Therefore I'm right.”
The woman looked pleased.
“You see how easy it is?”
Clara walked away.
Behind her, the woman called:
“You can't leave!”
“Why not?”
“Because you've just proved you want to stay.”
The café had a sign in the window:
TODAY'S SPECIAL
Clara went inside.
“What is today's special?”
“Everything.”
“Everything?”
“Yes.”
“What's the price?”
“Five pounds.”
“For everything?”
“For today's special.”
“And what is today's special?”
“Everything.”
“So everything costs five pounds?”
“No.”
“You just said—”
“I said today's special costs five pounds.”
“And today's special is everything.”
“Yes.”
“So everything costs five pounds.”
“No.”
Clara took a breath.
“Does everything mean everything?”
“Of course.”
“Then does it include the café?”
“Yes.”
“Does it include you?”
“Yes.”
“Does it include the five pounds?”
“Yes.”
“Then if I buy everything, I buy the five pounds too?”
“Certainly.”
“And then I have my five pounds back.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you haven't bought everything.”
“Why?”
“Because you haven't bought me.”
“You just said I could.”
“Only if you pay.”
“But the five pounds is part of everything.”
“Yes.”
“So I already own it.”
“No.”
Clara left.
She heard the café owner call after her:
“Come back tomorrow. Tomorrow's special is nothing.”
The next street was called ARGUMENT STREET.
Every house had a brass plaque.
APPEAL TO AUTHORITY
FALSE DILEMMA
SLIPPERY SLOPE
RED HERRING
STRAW MAN
CIRCULAR REASONING
Clara stopped outside the house marked STRAW MAN.
A little man opened the door.
“You've come to attack us.”
“No, I haven't.”
“You think we're all wrong.”
“I didn't say that.”
“You don't want anyone here to have an opinion.”
“I didn't say that either.”
“So you want to silence us.”
“No.”
“Then you admit you don't believe in free speech.”
“I absolutely do.”
“Then why did you say you don't want anyone here to have an opinion?”
“I didn't!”
The little man smiled.
“Exactly.”
Clara shut the door.
She stood outside for a moment.
Then she noticed that the little man had followed her.
“You're a straw man,” she said.
He bowed.
“At your service.”
“But you're not made of straw.”
“That's because you're confusing what I am with what I represent.”
Clara frowned.
“That isn't what I meant.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you say it?”
“Because it was easier.”
Further down the street, Clara found a red door.
A sign beside it said:
RED HERRING
She knocked.
A fish answered.
“Can I help you?”
“I suppose you're the red herring.”
“No.”
“You're not?”
“I'm a fish.”
“But the door says—”
“The door is a door.”
“Yes.”
“So why are you asking me about the door?”
“I was asking whether you were the red herring.”
“Why?”
“Because your house is called Red Herring.”
“You're avoiding the question.”
“No, I'm asking it.”
“Exactly.”
“What?”
“You're asking about whether I'm a red herring when the real question is why you're here.”
“I want to find the station.”
“Why?”
“To catch a train.”
“Why?”
“To leave town.”
“Why?”
Clara paused.
The fish smiled.
“You see?”
“What?”
“You've forgotten the question.”
At the end of the street stood a large blackboard.
A professor was writing on it.
Clara approached.
“What are you doing?”
“Proving that the station exists.”
“Does it?”
“Obviously.”
“How?”
“Because if it didn't exist, there would be no station to disprove.”
“That doesn't prove anything.”
“Can you prove that it doesn't exist?”
“No.”
“Then it exists.”
“That is ridiculous.”
“Can you prove that it's ridiculous?”
Clara opened her mouth.
The professor smiled.
“You see?”
“No.”
“You can't prove that you don't see.”
“I am looking directly at you.”
“That's not proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“That you can see.”
Clara walked away.
The professor called after her:
“Your inability to prove me wrong proves me right!”
She came to a narrow bridge.
A man stood in the middle.
“You may cross,” he said, “if you answer my question.”
“What is it?”
“Is this bridge safe?”
“I don't know.”
“Then you cannot cross.”
“Why?”
“Because you don't know that it is safe.”
“Can you tell me whether it is?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because nobody has proved that it isn't unsafe.”
“That isn't the same thing.”
“It is here.”
“Why?”
“Because if we allowed people to cross bridges merely because nobody had proved them unsafe, people might cross unsafe bridges.”
“So?”
“So one day someone might fall.”
“And then?”
“They might cross another bridge.”
“And?”
“Eventually everyone would be crossing unsafe bridges.”
“That doesn't follow.”
“Not yet.”
The man pointed across the bridge.
“You see how it begins?”
Clara crossed.
The bridge held.
On the other side she found a house with a very tall fence.
A sign said:
NO TRUE STATION
Clara knocked.
A voice answered:
“What do you want?”
“The station.”
“We have no station.”
“Then why does the sign mention it?”
“Because there is no true station.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that no genuine station exists.”
“What would count as a genuine station?”
“A place from which trains depart.”
“Doesn't that make any place from which trains depart a station?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it isn't a true station.”
“What makes it untrue?”
“It isn't genuine.”
“What makes it ungenuine?”
“It isn't a true station.”
Clara stood very still.
“Are we going round in circles?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because we're standing still.”
She finally found the station.
It was enormous.
There were twelve platforms.
No trains.
Clara approached the ticket office.
“I'd like a ticket.”
“Where to?”
“Anywhere.”
“That isn't a destination.”
“Then the next train.”
“There is no next train.”
“When is the next train?”
“After the last one.”
“When was the last one?”
“Before the next.”
“When will that be?”
“After now.”
“When is now?”
“After then.”
Clara stared through the ticket window.
“Do trains ever leave?”
“Of course.”
“Where do they go?”
“Elsewhere.”
“Where is elsewhere?”
“Not here.”
“That is the first sensible answer I've heard all day.”
The ticket clerk smiled.
“Thank you.”
“Can I have a ticket to elsewhere?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you are here.”
Clara turned around.
The little man from the Straw Man house was standing behind her.
The fish was beside him.
The professor stood behind the fish.
The bridge keeper was there too.
The woman from the café.
The policeman.
All of them were watching her.
“You see?” said the little man.
“You've proved our point.”
“What point?”
“That every argument is right.”
“But that's impossible.”
The professor stepped forward.
“Can you prove it?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Because some arguments are wrong.”
The fish smiled.
“Which ones?”
“All of yours.”
“That's an argument.”
“Yes.”
“Therefore, according to your own argument, every argument is right.”
Clara froze.
The little man clapped.
The bridge keeper bowed.
The woman from the café applauded.
The policeman blew his whistle.
The town began to cheer.
Clara shouted:
“No!”
The cheering stopped.
She looked at them.
“I see what you're doing.”
“What?” asked the policeman.
“You're making me argue on your terms.”
“Are we?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“You change the question.”
“Which question?”
“The one I'm answering.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“Because—”
Clara stopped.
She thought.
Then she smiled.
“I don't.”
Everyone waited.
“What do you mean?” asked the professor.
“I mean I don't have to answer.”
Silence.
The little man frowned.
“But you must.”
“Why?”
“Because I asked.”
“That doesn't mean I have to answer.”
The fish looked alarmed.
The bridge keeper whispered something to the woman from the café.
The policeman stepped forward.
“You have broken the rules.”
“What rules?”
“All of them.”
Clara looked around.
“Who made the rules?”
Nobody answered.
“Who decides whether an argument is right?”
Nobody answered.
“Who decides what the question is?”
Still nobody answered.
Clara laughed.
“Then perhaps the town doesn't have arguments at all.”
The little man looked horrified.
“What does it have?”
“People arguing.”
The professor shook his head.
“That's a distinction without a difference.”
“No,” said Clara.
“This time it is the whole difference.”
The town began to disappear.
Not dramatically.
A house became a field.
A street became a path.
The station became a railway line.
The railway line became a ditch.
The policeman became a man in a blue coat.
The fish became a fish.
The little man became a man who had been carrying a straw basket.
Clara looked back.
The sign at the town entrance was still there.
It now read:
WELCOME TO BELLWETHER
Underneath:
EVERY ARGUMENT IS RIGHT
Clara walked closer.
Someone had added another line.
EXCEPT THIS ONE.
She smiled.
Then she noticed something else.
The word RIGHT had been crossed out.
Someone had written:
CORRECT
Then crossed that out too.
Then:
JUSTIFIED
Then:
PERSUASIVE
Then:
VALID
Then:
ACCEPTED
Each word had been crossed out.
Finally, underneath all of them, someone had written:
IT DEPENDS.
Clara looked at the sign.
For the first time all day, she had no argument with it.
She walked away.
After a few minutes she heard footsteps behind her.
She turned.
Nobody was there.
She continued.
The footsteps continued.
She stopped.
They stopped.
She walked.
They walked.
She turned again.
Still nobody.
Then a voice said:
“Are you sure?”
Clara smiled.
“No.”
“Then you're wrong.”
She looked around.
“Possibly.”
There was silence.
Then, somewhere behind her, someone laughed.
And Clara realised that she had finally left the town.
Or perhaps—
She stopped.
That was an argument.
She walked on.
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