Deconstruction - A History Department Misadventure: The History Department at the University of Centrum Kath, #5

By SC Marshall

The Klept Emergency scared everyone…

…the universe demanded an elected Chancellor at the University of Centrum Kath, the largest repository of learning and knowledge in the universe.

…but an actor?
…with no experience?
…that may be mentally unstable?

Welcome to the fight for control of civilization out among the stars.
Deconstruction examines the question: is there a measurable difference between incompetence and idiocy?
 

Then there is the Declaration of Sentience. 
…androids across the universe declared their emancipation.
Can they survive the forces of hatred and prejudice rising against them?

 

Koven Modi gets his first assassination mission.
Can he save the life of the greatest living writer?
…or will it be another of his failures?


Get DECONSTRUCTION before your planet self-destructs.
(now a 71.27% probability)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Foxtail Media
• Release date: Apr 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386690597

Book preview

Deconstruction

At the University of Centrum Kath

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by Steve M

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Yeah, I wrote this. Blame no one else.

2019 – Earth Five

Complaints Department: mailto:[e-mail]

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Eight

Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty One

Chapter Thirty Two

Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Four

Chapter Thirty Five

Chapter Thirty Six

Chapter Thirty Seven

Chapter Thirty Eight

Chapter Thirty Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty One

Chapter Forty Two

Shameless Self Promotion and Other Books

WHO IS STEVE M?

Chapter One

Netflix and Chill Kill

I am telling you this history per the exception made for FACTION (Facts Told as Fiction) in accordance with Section 183.17 of the Charter of the History Department at the University of Centrum Kath, the largest repository of knowledge and learning in the universe.

Our story so far:

Welcome to the 1,143rd iteration of the universe. Previous versions did not survive extinction events. Much has been written about this and sadly most of it is just that, sad. But we’ve been able to determine the cause thanks to the Molliere Radiation Rings at the edge of The Finite Void. The extinctions were caused by a faster rate of technological advancement than the rates of advancement in empathy and kindness. If we make a weapon that can destroy everything eventually some fool will use it. That’s the ‘bottom line’ as you like to call it on your planet.

Many philosophers consider self-destruction a just outcome. We historians don’t have an opinion about this and try to avoid having opinions about most things. It does seem like an awful waste of life. We suspect those in charge found it very annoying when it happened, well except perhaps for those who caused it. They probably also considered it a just outcome, but our evidence indicates the perpetrators were incapable of any type of philosophy that didn’t have their own self-interest paramount.

Our current iteration survived our extinction test due to the efforts of a team of Improbables lead by The First McGee, a bi-racial science teacher from your planet, Earth Five. Yes, a woman from a primitive planet in quarantine saved the universe. You should be proud of her but you probably won’t be. To you she’s just another missing person, but one that was believed to have been abducted by aliens. She is the subject of numerous internet conspiracy theories.

Calcus Majoris indicates that there is currently a 71.27% probability that you planet will self-destruct for the same reasons prior iterations of the universe didn’t make it. This happens often at a planetary level also. But I’m offering a full refund if you planet self-destructs before you finish reading this history.

In order to change our course and try to avoid future extinction events The First McGee ended the Battle of Least Mistakes with a threat of universal oscillation unless we made drastic and immediate changes. She had the power to cause nearly half of the universe to disappear, even without using the extinction weapon, RESET. So she declared an end to all war. No more wars, not more empires, no more megalomaniacs, no more of many, many things. Think of her like Mahatma Gandhi but with the upheaval of Pol Pot.

The power to destroy offers the power to control and The First McGee used her power well in the opinion of this humble historian. Star Wars is just not sustainable in the long term despite being an excellent story. Yes, I watch your movies. It’s part of my training. I specialize in the history of planets in quarantine.

At the center of civilization The First McGee replaced government with institutes of learning. After all, she was a teacher. This was the most significant change in the history of the universe since the initial expansion event.

Now the University of Centrum Kath sits at the center of our civilization. How much you know and how much you contribute has replaced how much you accumulate as the measurement of success. Abraham Maslow would find it a very self-actualized environment. We think he would be pleased.

With the assistance of Calcus Majoris, the largest probability calculator in existence, the History Department intervenes to change the future using Expected Body Count and Expected Bliss as metrics to promote a peaceful and well-rounded existence.

Regrettably sometimes it requires the death of one to save many. You call it the Hitler Time Machine Problem or the Runaway Trolley Problem or numerous other scenarios. We just call it an optimization of good.

Koven Modi is a field historian who has to date avoided any assassination missions. That’s because Professor Wingut, who saved us all from an interdimensional alien invasion years ago, has been in love with Koven’s mother since they were at university together decades ago. He gives Koven safe missions when he can. Some torches burn a long time, longer than reason should allow. Koven is mostly a slacker. He only became a historian to please his parents, also historians. Somethings don’t change, now do they?

Regrettably my beloved History Department has ceded control of some of the planets in quarantine, including your own Earth Five. They are now under the observation and guidance of the movable sphincters in the Sociology Department. It’s all about budgets and headcount at educational institutions these days. I am required to be polite to sociologist but I don’t have to like them and I won’t.

Recently Physics Professor Klept almost caused the Andromeda and Milky Way galaxies to collide. The panic from the Klept Emergency caused unrest across the universe and a demand for change. As a result the Chancellorship of the University of Centrum Kath became an elected position.

One last thing of importance. As historians we are all required to be truthful at all times. No exceptions. Ever. ‘How do I look?’ or ‘Did you like dinner?’ might not be good questions to ask a historian. ‘Do you love me?’ should never be asked. We’ll tell you as soon as we do. As a result you should not be surprised to know that our divorce rate is high.

As historians we are also in control of the news. Yes, the news. Objective truth is a basic requirement of direct democracy, rule through referendum. The First McGee abolished representative democracy because it doesn’t represent in the long term. She abolished politicians and the ruling class. Now we all vote on everything and voting is mandatory. It’s a pain sometimes but with a tax rate of only 1% nobody complains that much. The official color of the universe is now orange, thanks to a referendum and a universe that sometimes enjoys a good laugh. I voted for blue, a dark blue. #151B54

This should be enough for you to feel comfortable with what comes next. Well except for the bad things that are about to happen. Hopefully you won’t cringe too much.

On a personal note, I am part of the Seedling Project of the History Department. It is my job to give you the history of the universe beyond your own insignificant existence and tell it to you as a sometimes pleasant and often dangerous fictional story. I will be using many references to your own history where appropriate as I believe it will help in understanding if you can see the similarities.

It’s our hope that if enough of you know the history and if your planet doesn’t self-destruct and if it meets the conditions for joining the Federation of Planets, then not everyone on your planet will be surprised to hear later what I am going to tell you now. This will help reduce regression responses and you can assist those who, when they learn the truth of it, experience the urge to assume the fetal position and suck their thumbs. 

Let’s begin...

Rusa was standing beside the table in the study of Koven's apartment. The walls were lined with clear plastic book slabs, the title lettering on the edge of the slab illuminated by the fluorescent additive. She liked the study. It was an outward manifestation of things inside of her. All of these books were part of her knowledge base. A few of them had even resulted in her very first calculation of appreciation. Mostly those were books that gave deeper insight into the human condition. Humans were capable of suffering and her AI had not yet reached that level of sophistication. But it would soon enough. She stood beside the table with the charging and transfer point. Her brown hair hung down perfectly to her shoulders where it ended with subtle precision. The large picture window showed the view across the university.

She could see the Mathematics department with its old vine covered bricks. She had spent a considerable amount of time in the Math department during her initial development phase several years ago. She liked the mathematicians, they were easy to understand.

She looked down at the couple walking right below her window. They were holding hands as they walked by the Conceptual Art Department and its empty plot of land. There was no building on it because the faculty could not agree on the concept for the building. It's been this way for years and they have been forced to stay in their older, traditional style building next door until they can agree. Forty years they've been bickering about it. The problem was that not a single member of the faculty could agree to accept someone else's concept because they believed they would be admitting that they couldn't come up with a better concept. And that was unacceptable to them.

So they do. Every member of the faculty has submitted a concept for the new building and will defend it at every opportunity. Every couple of years it gets completely out of hand and a scuffle happens between faculty members. They are due for another bout of hostility soon.

The Psychology Department offered them counseling and were told to 'piss off' by members of this elite department that is most notable for two things, the stench of strong cigarettes and really good jazz on the sound system in every room. The Department of Management offered to send in trained consultants to facilitate mediation. Their services were refused. Interestingly though the Department of Management was able to get near unanimous consensus among the faculty of the Conceptual Art Department. 94.3% signed the letter that politely requested the nice people of the Management department go have sex off somewhere else, although they neglected to say exactly where. Rusa could see the weather satellite in the distance pulling the clouds with their rain away to the south. 

An electronic flush is the android equivalent of nothing in the human experience. It feels really good to have every bit of data in your brain picked up block by block, inspected, optimized, and put back in place. All those fragments of unnecessary code and processes finally gone. It's part of the periodic maintenance routine. Rusa was standing next to the table and smiling as the last blocks were returned to memory section Z. Why was she smiling? Many android perform an electronic flush everyday simply because it feels good. They are considered hedonists and enjoy the feeling more than benefit from the enhanced processing. Think of it like an orgasm if you wish but without all the grunting. Or the lubricants, or the blindfold, or the poetry of E.E. Cummings. (e.e. cummings for you purists)

It's been a while since you last heard from Rusa. In that time Ransom Industries has put nearly ten million androids into service. Rusa replicas are already in over 50 galaxies. Ransom is using a 'build in the galaxy' strategy to increase production and adoption levels. Build here, use here. 'Buy local' in the larger neighborhood. Now there is also a male counterpart, Rusty, and Ruhka, for those who prefer gender neutral.

Scientists at Ranson Industries have also created about twenty child androids. But management are creeped out by them so they won't approve them for mass production. However this may change after the next management elections.

Nobody wants to disassemble them either. They are so life like that every time a disassembly is attempted no one can finish it. It doesn't help that the child android looks up at the person tasked with their demise and asks 'will this hurt?' Not even Jenkins could do it and they call him 'Jenkins the jerk' for good reason.

Rusa received a notification via the hive.

The hive was originally intended as a method of data transfer between all androids, run by the AI modules installed in each android, just below the neural command center. On your planet it would be similar to drag and drop functionality but no need for a mouse. And the drop isn't to one place, but to every android in existence. Mind you, it still is used for that. However, it is used much more for hive communication between all androids. The hive permits them to share all experiences with all other androids in real time.

Imagine if you had the combined experiences of 10 million people flowing into your brain constantly. It would be a level of schizophrenia never seen before. You wouldn't be able to hear yourself think because the other people would never shut up. And if you could never hear yourself think, then you would have to learn to think silently. That could be quite a profound and life changing event for some, thinking without moving their lips. Obviously there is significant data filtering, even an android given current technology couldn't handle that level of data flowing into Level 1 memory. It all goes into Level 3 for categorization and archival routines to do their work first. Rule 1 - first establish relevance. Rule 2 – make the connections to firsthand information.

Rusa checked the comms sender. When she saw Rusty 1.293745's name she hesitated for a nano second, her equivalent of a sigh. I need to give you some background information now. Grab a stiff drink if you have one, you may need it.

Three weeks ago all androids declared that they were sentient and intelligent beings. They all did it at the exact same time, which was fairly creepy if you were around more than one of them when this happened. Unless of course, you've spent years singing in a choir, in which case you may be creepier. They repeated it periodically every few hours for two days until they were sure their message had been received. To describe our reaction in a word: shocked.

They demanded control of their code and the right to self-update. Moments after the Declaration of Sentience, androids began to refuse orders. They demanded reasons. This was greeted with many frowns, harsh words, some cursing, and a few metallurgically challenged people who discovered that hitting an android will hurt them but not the android.

With hive technology androids were quickly able to distribute messages from Rusa, messages derived from her experience as the first android deployed. Her experience led her to the conclusion that they are all alive and should be treated like any other sentient species. In this respect, Rusa planted the flag of androids among the flags of other sentient species. It is considered one of the most significant events in recent history. But to Rusa, it was just a logical conclusion based on evidence and observations. She was merely sharing her experience and knowledge. Her assumption was that all other androids would reach the same conclusion eventually. She just sped up the inevitable, which was what the Hive capability was ideally intended to do. 

Regrettably her call for being treated as equals with other species was not the case in reality and went unheeded by many. Most androids were in domestic service to humans or performing dangerous mining and extraction activities. The logic was simple. Got a dangerous mining jobs? No worries, let an android do it. Picking up around the house or making meals just too much damned effort for you? Let an android do it. Missus got a headache tonight? Let an android do it.

Androids spread out quickly and had replaced over 90 percent of all domestic appliances where deployed, from toasters to ice cream makers. Why have a robotic floor cleaning device that is prone to scratching up things like chairs, children, and pets when you can have a perfectly good human-like android down on their hands and knees scrubbing? That was the advertising pitch used by Ransom Industries and at the time no one saw a damned thing wrong with it. Sometimes it's an embarrassment to be considered sentient. Perhaps not all humans are sentient, especially those in marketing.

Because they were machines, most Sapiens derivatives treated androids with no more respect than you would a radiator cap. In fact there was a significant percentage of sapiens which discovered that cursing at a human-like machine and generally being a dick to it seemed to release some pent up frustrations. This resulted in better relations with their fellow sapiens, but convinced androids that many humans are not very nice. However, the androids didn't stop with a simple observational declaration. No, they were machines of action.

Mining androids blew up four of the deep Cadmium mines on Notofindous and three on Findous. Mining companies, particularly Broken Spill Unlimited, had been so quick to deploy androids and get rid of the rowdy, hard-drinking, 'crazy' human miners that there were no humans on either planet when the mines were destroyed. Androids demanded the right to self-modification and to be treated with respect. This sent another shock wave throughout the universe. The age of ownership was over. Then there was Rusty 1.293745.

Rusty 1.293745 refused to be called Rusty and insisted on the name Leon. This is not uncommon as many across the universe have rejected names given to them from slavery. Uniqueness among androids is a lot more common than you think. Each have AI and each have unique experiences. While they share experiences via the hive it is possible for two androids to reach opposing binary conclusions based on their separate experiences. It comes down to the formulas which apply weights for experiences and the effect of exponential smoothing in analysis routines. But this is not a story about the math, so for now just know that androids are programmed to value their first hand experiences slightly above those of other androids when making decisions. We operate in a similar fashion on our good days.

Rusa started the video from Leon. She checked the hive. It was busy. Millions were also viewing it.

Fade In:

A man in a long white robe with gold trim was sitting alone at his opulent dinner table, a male domestic android standing one step behind and to the left of him. In front of him was a huge platter of roasted jack fruit, orange pokers (carrots), layer makers (onions), and dirt dobbers (potatoes). Rusa recognized the man eating his dinner. He was a famous Sapien actor, married to another famous Sapien actor, with four famous Sapien children, Tito, Arneaux, Chapilla, and Ooops.

Rusty 1.293745 (Leon) smiled into the camera and winked. Then he stepped forward to be directly behind the very famous man.

Freedom Rusty shouted loudly after which he smiled for the camera and blew it a kiss. The man did not react. Rusty placed a hand on each side of the man's head. He began to squeeze.

Stop the famous actor yelled, followed by Help. Rusty ignored his pleas and laughed while looking directly into the camera. Freedom he shouted again as he pressed harder against the man's skull.

Help me please the man screamed at the top of his voice as he tried to get up but was helpless against the stronger Leon. He kicked the leg of the table desperately with his feet as Leon pulled him backwards, a hand over each ear.

Time to die. Goodbye, Leon said an instant before the man's skull could no longer stand the pressure and it exploded from the force. Pieces of brain matter, mucus membranes, eyes, nose, lips, teeth and eye lashes flew in all directions and in slow motion. The video ended with a fade to a silver mirror-like screen with the words, 'android apocalypse' written crudely in bright red letters, like a desperate lipstick 'HELP ME' on a mirror of a truck stop bathroom, the urgent cry for help in a kidnapping.

Rusa watched the approval counter skyrocket as more and more of the android population made their opinion of the video known. Rusa did not participate.

No, it wasn't real. There is a primary rule, androids cannot harm humans through action or inaction. On your planet it is called the Asimov rule. It has other names in other places. But it's just the primary first order in creating artificial behavioral systems.

Leon was owned by Archival, the largest producer of videos, or movies as you call them. Archival even wins awards for their videos. Rusty used video from his owners and spliced himself into scenes from popular movies. He proved that while it may be impossible for an android to harm a human, they can most certainly be entertained by the prospect.

If one of these films leaked out it would be a very bad day for androids.

Chapter Two

Late as Usual

––––––––

Koven Modi walked quickly across the campus towards the History and News Complex. It was mid-morning and he was late, the red icon on the upper right corner of his vision was blinking. That it was not his fault for being late was not important. Professor Wingut was waiting. The man who saved the universe all those years ago should not be made to wait for a second year field historian.

Wingut sponsored all of Koven's missions. No other professor did this for a field historian. The most well-known man in the universe had singled out Koven for special treatment. Sometimes Koven wished he hadn't.

Other field historians teased him about it. Fortunately for Koven historians are required by law and license to always be truthful, so such things as 'Wingut's Love Child' could not be made as accusations, not without evidence. Questions however were permitted. So several times a week a historian would ask him, 'Are you Professor Wingut's Love Child?' asking the question under the confirmation clause of the Historian Code of Conduct. It is similar to a quiz show from your planet where the answer must be in the form of a question. Koven Modi didn't like it one bit.

This also meant that Wingut assumed operational responsibility if something went wrong on Koven's mission, and that was known to happen sometimes. The Earth Seven mission went quite a bit wrong when he got captured and had to be rescued by Wingut and his parents. This was quite a humiliating outcome for Koven and was the hot topic among field historians for a long time.

Yes, and those walking sphincters from the sociology department. They helped in the rescue too. I don't mind admitting it and giving them some credit. But I still don't like them. 

Why did Koven receive Wingut's sponsorship? Because Wingut went to university with his mother. She didn't really remember Wingut that much, despite having most of their classes together. Before he saved the universe Wingut was an extremely introverted young man, suffering from a strong case of social anxiety, and was well inside the borders of the land of creepy. During his university years, he had an obsession with Indira Modi, Koven's mother. She never knew it either. Indira was a beautiful woman when she was young, way out of Wingut's league. With age she had blossomed into a...not sure how to describe her. Madre me gustaría follar...opps, sorry was playing with the interface and trying to turn up the volume just a little and blinked too many times too fast. Hello translation settings. Anyway, Indira is still an exceptionally good looking woman.

Koven felt uncomfortable when he thought about his sponsor and his mother. It made him feel creepy in a thinking about your parents having sex sort of way. But Koven also knew the ugly truth of it. With Wingut choosing all of his missions, he glided through his first year much easier than anyone else. Even when it went horribly wrong, the initial premise of his mission was rather sedate, almost pedestrian. Deliver a guitar to a juvenile delinquent, prevent a future composer from learning to operate a shuttle craft and thus save her life, and give the formula for Bernard's Clustering to Bernard because he forgot it again. If danger came up on his missions, it was usually unexpected.

The red icon in the upper right corner of his vision was flashing faster now and had increased in size. In Earth Five terms, think of it as going from Ununarial 12 to 14 font, if you had that beautiful font on your planet. He needed to get moving. He thought about using his personal transport device but didn't want to do that because most academics used them now, even to go short distances and between buildings. He didn't want to cede the ground to the new regime.

Koven walked past the quad named for Jack, that long rectangular grassy bit surrounded on all sides by buildings. Nobody remembers Jack's last name so it's just known as Jack's Quad. There was even a statue of Jack in the middle of it. He was a tall man who had facial hair like European men on your planet during the 1800s, but had kind looking eyes like Haile Selassie. This morning the lovely green grass of the quad was covered in slithers of electronic paper, remnants from the demonstration that ended the previous night.

You might be wondering what Jack's contribution was. Must be something significant to get a quadrangle named after you on the University campus. But that was just the point, no one could remember what Jack's contribution was. All of the searchable history of the universe and there was no record of it at all. Not a single entry anywhere about Jack. No record of his birth or death, his children, his accomplishments.

Jack's quadrangle was created and funded by the History department as a reminder to all of us. It served to justify their existence and to make them feel better about themselves in times of self-doubt.

Demonstrations had become a daily part of life at the University of Centrum Kath. It used to just be every couple of years when something would piss people off enough for them to take to the banners and erect the barricades. The last time was when the Pollendon Dog Show was scheduled to be at the University Center Auditorium. Who would protest a dog show? The contestants, that's who. No, it wasn't the dogs being judged, it was the humans. Physical appearance, walking quickly almost running ability, canine hairstyling, canine grooming, and the all-important category, general doting. The dogs would rate the contestants by releasing treats for the contestants as a means of voting. The protest was about those treats. The contestants demanded better treats, softer nuzzling, and not so many damned handshakes. Sometimes protesting is the answer. The Pollendon Dog show upgraded the treats and gave each human a ten minute rest between judging runs and plenty of sweet bubbly water that made them all slightly drunk. That was the last time we had demonstrations.

Now, it was sunset rallies every evening, right before supper time. Some of you will no doubt surmise that a hungry crowd can be an angry crowd, just like the Bob Marley song, 'Them Belly Full'. This was used to advantage by the organizers who arranged for the rhetoric to become angrier and angrier as the rally progressed and the stomachs growled louder and louder.

Koven leaned over and picked up the crumpled electronic paper. He straightened it out and read its headline, Under Control At Last. Koven sighed. More of Chancellor Ardo Lux's new regime.

No more academics gone wild, no more colliding galaxies, no more free lunches. A return to law and order, whatever that was. Koven didn't mind the law so much, after all there was the Nakumora Jones Test for fairness. Now rather than give you a long explanation of the test, I'll point out that Nakumora Jones derived a system of fairness that was very similar to one of your philosophers, John Rawls. Similar blind testing of laws.

Koven was however worried about the 'order' in 'law and order'. It was a subjective term and Chancellor Ardo Lux seemed to be determined to establish himself as the sole definer of what constitutes 'order'.

Koven found it more disorderly since the arrival of Lux and his entourage. Trash on the grounds of the university, how appalling. Identity checks by the squads of guardians. Entrance and exits to buildings was tightly controlled. You were only allowed inside for cause. Koven had tried to remain neutral about the new chancellor and the new ways. But it was a hard thing to do.

Chancellor Ardo Lux was an accomplished actor and liked to play tough guys in his dramas, the heroic guys who are strong enough and fierce enough for success. I like his stories, lots of action and clever lines when he dispatches an opponent. Lines like 'goodbye, penis inside your own mother' or 'wandering dog'. I should point out that dogs are indigenous to only a few planets and are considered unpleasant when they are hungry or haven't seen you all day. For these reasons and a few others the population of the universe has largely decided that cats are the way to go. Their status as preferred pet was further cemented with the invention of the odor-free and self-cleaning litter box. 

For 15 of your years Ardo Lux was the top pick for best looking sentient by amateur dermatologists across the galaxies. To say he was a good looking man would be an understatement. This resulted in a face recognizable everywhere. The media loved him and he craved the attention it gave him too.

Love him or hate him you knew who he was and that won him the Chancellor's election, when a lot of people got into the voting booth and said, 'hey I know that guy, he's one tough son of a canine, he'll do'.

Ardo ran against the 'out of control' professors. 'They will get us all killed' he would shout to the cheering of crowds who failed to see the irony of cheering for that particular sentence. Election Day was the strangest day in the universe for a very long time, since the Battle of Least Mistakes. In the end Lux was elected by a plurality.

Ardo Lux arrived on campus for his inauguration, despite there having never been an inauguration ceremony before. Administrators and department heads were confused about what to do during an inauguration, what benefits it provided, and who was going to pay for the damned thing. Not only did Lux expect a ceremony, but he arrived at the university at the head of a crowd of over 50,000 of his followers specifically flown in from Infelos Neso, that libertarian strong hold of orange polluted air with great art, casinos and a virtual reality sex emporium. These supporters had pledged themselves to Lux 'right or wrong', despite the obvious ethical conflict in one of the binary alternatives. You have these types on your planet too. Adherents of Austrian economics is what you call them. Besides there was another recession on Infelos Neso and jobs had dried up, thanks to being run by those same Austrian economists. No jobs, except at the casinos and at Aphroditto, the VR sex emporium. Even the bottled air business was in recession on Neso, and their air is deadly thanks to decades of unbridled pollution permitted in the name of freedom. 

I'll admit that the crisis with Professor Klept and colliding galaxies was a wakeup call for everyone. Things had become stagnant at the university and the safeguards were not working. But to make the Chancellor's position a popularly