Miss Buddha (78 page)

“A society works best—or at all—when its
members share both a view of reality and a notion of where we’re
heading. In other words, when those in the society share a common
goal. When, to use a rowing metaphor, all of us are pulling in the
same direction.”

“And Miss Marten’s promises disrupts this
how?”

Looking over at Ruth Marten, she answered:
“By promising something so alluring that far too many individuals
in the society abandon previously agreed upon goals and instead set
out for this new, enticing destination. At worst you’ll find these
poor people all rowing in a different direction, at best they
simply let go of the oars.”

“Is that the actual danger? Well, let me
rephrase that. What, specifically, would be the result of this
abandonment of the oars? What does the danger consist of?”

“A good example is one that you’ve already
mentioned, Mister Jones. I’m thinking about Gandhi. He brought
India to its knees simply by telling everybody to let go of the
oars. The British finally threw up their hands in frustration and
packed their bags.”

“And you see a parallel here, with Miss
Marten?”

“I do.”

“How so?”

“In that Miss Marten, much like Gandhi, has
the world’s ear and has kindled its hopes. The Internet has allowed
her views and promises to reach uncountable masses of people, all
of whom might well let go of the oars.”

“And then what would happen to society?”

“It might come to a standstill.”

“And that is the danger?”

“That is the danger.”

“No further questions, your honor.”

Judge Moore looked over at Ruth, who shook
her head in confirmation: No, no questions.

:

Jones’ next witness, Vince
Reynolds, was the Chief
Administrator of
Hospital One, now—since a recent rash of acquisitions—the largest
HMO in the United States. At well over six feet tall, and
immaculately dressed, he struck the figure of the model successful
executive. His voice followed suite, deep and assertive.

Impressive.

“Mister Reynolds, these days, how many
hospitals does Hospital One manage?”

“As of today,” said Reynolds, and—if that’s
possible—straightened up further, the number stands at twelve
hundred fifty-three. And you can add to that some eighty-six
thousand medical offices.”

“Impressive,” said Jones, indeed
impressed.

Reynolds smiled in return.

“And how do you manage to oversee and run so
many facilities?”

“Our facilities are all networked, and we
manage purely by performance statistics.”

“And these statistics, how often are they
reported to headquarters?”

“Oh, they are streamed real-time. But they
are summarized, to afford us an overview, every twenty-four
hours.”

“So, in other words, any data, and any
conclusions you base on such information, is current?”

“Never older than twenty-four hours.”

“That’s what I’d call current,” said Jones,
looking up at Judge Moore.

“Agreed,” said Reynolds.

“Now,” said Jones, looking back at Reynolds
with an expression that bespoke getting down to business. “Here, in
your deposition, you reference one statistic which you find, and I
quote:” Looking down, Jones found the highlighted portion, “Deeply
disturbing, if not alarming.”

“Yes.”

“What statistic is that, Mister
Reynolds?”

“New admissions.”

“To your hospitals?”

“Including hospital admissions. For
statistical purposes, we treat office consultations as a
sub-portion of admissions. This way the statistic reflects the
number of individuals seeking treatment for new or recurring
problems.”

“Understood. And this is the alarming
statistic?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It is undergoing a radical decline.”

“How would you define radical, Mister
Reynolds?”

“Over the last two months we have seen a
drop in admissions and office consultations of over 24%. That is an
unprecedented decline.”

“How do you explain this?”

And now, coming to the rehearsed crux of the
matter, Reynolds said: “We have plotted this decline against the
increasing views of Miss Marten’s video lectures, and there is an
almost uncanny relationship. Our admissions and consultations drop
at virtually the same pace as the number of her online lecture
views rise.”

“So, are you telling this court that her
lectures make people well?”

“Well,” said Reynolds, and
now he looked first at the judge and then over at the jury. “Our
investigation paints a different picture: people
think
they are well, when
they are not. Miss Marten is feeding them unhealthy portions of
hope and promise and her audience seem to take this pie-in-the-sky
to heart.”

“So they are
not
less ill?”

“No, our investigation shows that people are
just as ill, contract just as many ailments as before, but they
ignore them in favor of hope that they will get better and that
their ailments will dissipate of their own accord.”

“And do they?”

“We see no evidence of that.”

“And if this trend continues?”

“If this keeps up, we may soon find
ourselves facing an unmanageable backlog of illness and disease
which in effect would spell catastrophe.”

“Catastrophe? That’s a strong word, Mister
Reynolds.”

“Yes, but an accurate one.”

Jones turned back to his assistant who
handed him another sheaf of computer printouts. Addressing Judge
Moore, he then said. These are the statistics referenced in Mister
Reynolds’ testimony, and I’d like to enter them as People’s Exhibit
Number Twelve.”

Judge Moore nodded and received the papers.
“So entered,” she said.

Jones said, “No further questions your
honor.”

To no one’s surprise, Ruth Marten had no
questions for this witness.

:

Jones’ third (and last) witness for the day
looked Vince Reynolds’ antithesis. Bradley Anderson stood a rather
heavy five-foot-four on a good day, had very little hair, and what
little remained he had cropped to near invisibility. Dressed in a
conservative, and seemingly inexpensive, brown three-piece suit,
and sporting a bowtie under a blue button-down collar, he looked
the archetypal accountant (or college professor), possibly
hopelessly lost in a sea of numbers.

His face was, nonetheless, a household one,
since he was broadly acknowledged as the foremost economist in the
country.

“Mister Anderson,” said Jones after the
legal formalities. “Where do you work?”

“I am employed by the United States
Department of the Treasury.” This he almost whispered, and not into
the witness chair microphone.

“Please, Mister Anderson,” said Jones.
“Could you repeat this a little louder. And into the microphone,
please. I don’t think all of the jury members caught that.”

“Nor the judge,” said Judge Moore.

“Sorry, your honor,” said Anderson. Then
said again, leaning forward into the mic, and quite loudly this
time, “I am employed by the Treasury Department.”

There was no doubt that everybody heard him
this time.

“And what do you do there?” wondered
Jones.

“I analyze economic trends.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Yes, why?”

“Why, for the same reason you analyze any
trends: to forecast the future.”

“And that is your job, Mister Anderson. To
tell the future?”

“I didn’t say
tell
. No one can tell the
future with certainty, but based on historical trends and with
current data at hand, we can predict the future with some degree of
likelihood.”

“And that is what you do?”

“That is what I do.”

“Mister Anderson, in a recent deposition you
offered that some critical economic indicators all agreed that all
is not well with our economic future.”

“That is correct,” Anderson said. Then
added, “Nor with our economic present.”

“What indicators were those, and what did
they tell us?”

“The indicators I referred to in my
deposition all had to do with public consumption of goods and
services. They all tell the same story: we are heading for a
drastic economic slowdown, perhaps even a meltdown.”

“I believe the word you
used in the deposition was
catastrophe
,” said Jones.

“That’s correct. That is the word I
used.”

“Could you, for the benefit of the court,
and the jury, please elaborate on this.”

And elaborate Mr. Anderson did, for he came
prepared.

And it took him the rest of the day to
present his many graphs and other computer-generated media to
illustrate what indeed was a dramatic slowdown in public
consumption of such American staples as fast food, beer, movie
tickets, medical services, entertainment, cars, luxury items,
jewelry, and, yes, candy.

Midway through this lecture, Judge Moore
asked him to please speed things up. Not for her own benefit, for
she found the information quite fascinating, but for the jury’s,
where a few of the members had begun to nod off.

“Sorry, your Honor,” said Anderson. “I just
want to make the current situation absolutely clear.”

And clear is what he made
it. The judge’s interruption apparently stirred the slipping jurors
back to attention, and for the rest of the presentation Anderson
had everybody with him, and nobody missed his point: today, the
American consumer was spending almost 25% less on goods and
services than he did only three months ago. If this kept up, the
U.S. economy would come to a standstill. Again he deployed the
word
meltdown
, and
to good effect.

“But surely that will not happen?” suggested
a now apparently alarmed Jones.

“It could never come to a
complete standstill of zero spending,” said Anderson. “But even if
our national spending were to remain at current levels for much
longer, factories would have to cut back on production and
retailers, in order to remain in business, would have to shrink
their inventories to match current demands. You must understand
that a twenty-five percent reduction is spending is indeed
catastrophic. I used that word in my deposition advisedly. It would
be a catastrophe. It
is
a catastrophe.”

“What happened? Do you have any explanation
for this?”

“Ruth Marten happened. That’s quite clear.
The slowdown in spending coincides with her gaining
popularity.”

“Are you telling me that twenty-five percent
of the population are now devotees of Miss Marten?”

“No, I am not saying that, although by
viewer statistics—the number of Americans that have or are now
viewing her lectures—you could draw that conclusion. However, it
seems, by our investigation, that more like ten percent of the
population are headed for the Defendant’s promised land, and that
these ten percent have cut their spending by more than half, but as
much as sixty-five percent in some cases.”

“You have proof of this?”

“I supplied the documentation with my
deposition,” said Anderson.

“Right,” said Jones, and turned to his
assistant; who, on cue handed Jones two thick folders, one
containing the Anderson deposition, and one containing the
supporting statistical and investigatory evidence. “I would like
enter these as People’s Exhibits Numbers Thirteen and
Fourteen.”

Judge Moore received them, and passed them
on to her clerk. “So entered,” she said.

“Would you, in your expert opinion, consider
Miss Ruth Marten, the Defendant, a threat to national
security?”

“Perhaps not to
national
security
,
the way we understand the word. But to national
safety
. Were this to keep up, this
unprecedented slowdown in spending, our country’s economic engine
would grind to a halt.”

“And what would that mean, Mister
Anderson?”

“It would mean, could mean, famine, death,
and chaos.”

“Catastrophe?”

“Catastrophe.”

The jury, to a man and woman, appeared
shocked.

:

The Los Angeles Times lead
that evening’s Web Edition, and the following morning’s print
edition with the following banner:
Marten
grinding the U.S. Economy to a Halt
.

The article went on to explain what Bradley
Anderson’s figures actually meant, and then went on to express
outrage that the media had not been informed about this earlier. If
the country’s economy was teetering on the brink of collapse, why
had we not been told sooner?

Another LA Times article scrutinized the
figures presented by Anderson and concluded that by all
indicators—and by the paper’s own, albeit hurried,
verification—they were true and correct. Which, the article
concluded, was bad news indeed.

Several television stations
echoed the Los Angeles Times sentiment that they (and by
they
, they meant
the
public
) should
have been informed sooner about the impending implosion of the
American economy.

The President’s Press Secretary, however,
put a less dramatic spin on things. “It is true that some
statistics are heading south at the moment, but others are heading
up.” She did not specify which others, and would not elaborate when
asked to.

There was not a news outlet in the
world—print, television, or Internet—that did not lead with the
Marten trial, and that did not weigh in on its progress. Most also
expressed astonishment that Ruth Marten had only asked two
questions so far, and only of one prosecution witness. If she were
that incompetent, they went on to suggest, perhaps Judge Moore
should compel her to accept counsel.