Chapter 6:

To Speak with a Soft Tongue

Kelly quit her job in San Diego at the Law Office of Justin T. Tippets, Esquire. She apologized profusely for her sudden notice and said her time under his tutelage was priceless. She spent over an hour on the phone discussing the matter with her former boss, reminiscing and strengthening her bridges. He promised to write her a fine letter of recommendation. After that, she called associations in Cityopolis and asked around. Were any firms looking to bring on a corporate lawyer? She posted her resume online and prepared herself for interviews, answering postulated questions regarding ethics. She didn’t bother looking for a place to stay, content to live in Nathan’s mansion, as she bothered him to role-play her potential interviewer.

“I have no idea what kind of answers you’re supposed to give. Anything you say is going to sound good to me,” Nathan complained.

“Come now, you must have had some exposure to lawyers.”

“Some: lawsuits, endorsement deals, nothing pleasant.”

“Endorsements, that’s good. What’d they say about your endorsements?” Kelly asked.

“This is good, you should sign it,” Nathan shrugged.

“Do you know what you got out of it?”

“I may be a knit-wit, but I did try to read them,” he glared, shook his head, and shrugged as he answered properly. “Money and the option to drop the contract for any reason.”

“And you gave up certain things?” Kelly led.

“I agreed I wouldn’t sign with any direct competitors.”

“Mutually beneficial, see? It’s easy,” Kelly stated. “What answer is going to make you money? Use that. That’s the right answer.”

Marvelous snorted, “What about all those ads, ‘making a better world’ and ‘creating better lives’ and whatnot that all these companies tout?”

“Public image is very important. But it’s still a question of money. Is the publicity you’re buying worth the money you spend on it? If so, the publicity is a good thing. Some say publicity is always worth it. ‘All press is good press,’ as some smarmy bastard once put it.”

“Obviously did him a grip of good,” Nathan retorted. “But I’m talking about innovation, research and development of a genuinely practical and impacting nature. Isn’t that what these people do? Shouldn’t I be taking this into account?”

“You’re thinking along the wrong lines. We want to make lives better, sure, but we want to make money while we do it! We’re looking for synergy in this. What do people want? What do people need? And most importantly, can we sell it at a handsome profit?”

“Okay, Okay. Say you work for a toy company, Fluffie Toys Limited. The company designs a product that is just outside federal safety regulations. What do you do?”

“What’s on the line? What are the profit margins? Is there marketing? How hot is this toy?” Kelly asked, rapid fire.

Nathan knew only the last one mattered. “Really hot,” he answered.

Kelly’s smile showed most of her teeth, “That depends, is it cheaper to modify the toy so it fits within current regulations, or to buy the votes to change these safety regulations?”

“What if the product is actually dangerous? Don’t you have moral reservations about selling it at all?”

“Don’t be silly,” Kelly waved him off. “First, nothing is truly dangerous unless you’re doing defense contracting—and then the more dangerous the better! Anything else is less dangerous than automobiles and alcohol, and people sell both of those, so we’re ethically unaccountable, don’t you think?”

“What about, I don’t know, lighters and fireworks and whatnot? Aren’t those a bit dangerous for a six year old?”

“Honestly, no toy company is going to put out that sort of product for the consumption of children.”

“But it will make you money, and after all, children have a certain fascination with fire! It’d sell like nothing else!”

“Except six year-olds don’t have a lot of disposable income, and parents wouldn’t be willing to buy it,” Kelly argued. “Besides, we wouldn’t want to burn up our customer base. If the papers are filled with children blinded by our overly shiny new toy, well, that’s what I call bad press, no matter what anyone says.”

“You’re not interested in selling a product. You’re interested in selling an image,” Nathan accused.

“Exactly!” Kelly agreed. “We paint our company as we would like the public to see us, then it’s money as moral indicator. People buy from those companies they feel are decent. People buy from questionable companies, sure, but the second those perceptions become too negative, sales drop precipitously. Funny thing is, no matter how bad public perception gets, sales never actually zero out completely. No matter how rotten you are, there are still people that will buy your product. At that point the bigger concern becomes whether or not any stores will sell your product,” Kelly shrugged.

“Seems like you’ve put a little thought into this,” Nathan noted.

“I wrote a paper on it. ‘The Influence of Moral Stipulations on Consumer Buying Habits: What Spending Tells Us About the American Conscience.’”

“Is that the title, or is that the whole paper?” Nathan asked.

Kelly ignored him, “I was a double major in Sociology and Economics as an undergraduate.”

“So what? Morality is only good if it will make us a buck?”

“More precisely the image of morality,” Kelly explained. “It’s an exploration of the tie between what we buy and why.”

“It’s all about garnering a good reputation so people will buy your cheap crap,” Nathan accused.

“Pretty much,” Kelly agreed. “Of course, it’s easier to sell a good product with a good reputation, but a bad product will sell pretty well just as long as you still have a good reputation. The reverse works a bit too: bad reputation, good product; but bad product and bad reputation are the kiss of death. You will be out of business in six months.”

“What sort of reasoning is this? What ever happened to noble deeds and conscionable actions? When did we stop being good as an end in itself?”

Kelly tsked. “Good deeds don’t make money. We have a responsibility to our shareholders.”

“This is a private company,” Nathan invented.

Kelly shrugged. “We have a responsibility to ourselves,” she noted.

For a long second, Nathan simply stared. “So was good behavior bought out, was it forced into early retirement, or was it framed and sent to prison?” he finally snapped.

“Don’t be hypocritical. Questions of integrity are reserved for hippies, philosophers, zealots, and children. Not fat dog ex-boxers with multi-million dollar mansions who made the bulk of their money selling fast food and foot deodorizer to the faceless masses,” Kelly smiled. She leaned forward and kissed Nathan. “Nothing personal. You’re doing great. Next question?”

“Okay,” Nathan said, arms akimbo. “How much does your conscience cost?”

“Don’t be rude. If you want to be a socialist, move to Cuba. I hear boxing is big down there.”

Nathan stood, stomped from the room in a huff and slammed the door, effectively ending the faux interview.

“Oh, don’t be silly!” Kelly yelled after him. Despite Nathan’s tantrum, Kelly was smiling. She was happy to see she could affect him as she wished. Oh, she’d have to apologize. She’d tell him how important it is to maintain an individual sense of right and wrong; that it was good he thought about these things, and that one must always follow the dictates of one’s conscience—blah blah blah. And she would. She’d tell him all this as she wrapped her legs around him—and that’s how she’d get him over it.

*****

The trial for the school’s fire-bomber was scheduled to begin in a few days and Nathan was ordered to testify. Initially, he panicked, not wanting anything to do with the trial. He’d be in all the papers again, and who knew what they’d write about him this time. With his luck, he’d find another gaggle of idiots in front of his mansion protesting another imagined slight. This is where he was incredibly happy to have Kelly around. She did her best to calm him as she prepared him for the witness stand. “Just remember, don’t contradict yourself, and don’t get bogged down with distinctions. If something can be misconstrued, try to leave it out. Lastly, if you’re unsure what to say, stick with the truth—even if it’s embarrassing. Indeed, embarrassing yourself can be a good thing; it smacks of honesty and integrity when you can admit shortcomings, which is really good since you’re a celebrity. People want to see you’re only human. It’ll soothe their egos.”

“What about ‘the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth’?” Nathan asked.

“If you were a novice or a dolt, yes; but you’re not—so not in every particular. Don’t worry. You’re smart, you’ll handle yourself well. Oh, and as far as embarrassing yourself,” Kelly interjected. “Lie about any sexual deviance or peculiarities, should it come up. As modern as we are, much of America still suffers rather puritanical views about sex. Of course, I’ll try to deflect any of that crap as best I can—but you never know what a judge will allow.”

Nathan backed from Kelly with a cautious look.

“Why so worried?“

“The way you put it, it doesn’t sound like the court cares about the truth at all.”

“Of course it does, but the truth about this crime isn’t the truth about your character. They are quite separate.” Kelly took his hand. “Besides, what is truth? Truth is very individual. It’s based on personal perception.”

“That’s so much crap I don’t know where to start,” Nathan responded, his temper getting the best of him. It often did these days. “Truth is concrete. Truth is absolute.”

“Not at all,” Kelly remarked. “Take religion: how many different religions all claim to know the truth? How many practitioners of whatever sect claim they know the only path to Heaven? How much conflict is there on this one central issue? They all claim only this small group or that small group has the truth. So, how many must be wrong? Yet, if you strapped them all to a polygraph and ask them if this is the truth, how many will be proven to be liars? Most are completely honest, and you know why? It’s not because they’re all telling the truth about God. It’s because they all believe they’re telling the truth about God. It’s belief! If I convince myself I can fly, it won’t change the laws of physics one lick. Gravity will still carry my ass flailing to the ground—should I have the gumption to test my faith. But if you strap me to a lie detector, I’ll honestly tell you I can fly and the needles won’t budge.”

“But there’s definable, testable empirical knowledge: your ability to fly, the color of this shirt. If you insist to a jury you can fly, suddenly you’re incredible.”

“Yes, if I insist on something that’s physically verifiable. But you’re talking about empirical proofs for ethereal concepts. On the other side, there’s interpretation, and interpretation is strictly individual. Love, hate, god, honor, soul: they’re all very individual, very Allegory of the Cave. Yes, we have standardized definitions of what exemplifies each of these ideas, but we also have people stabbing their spouses twenty-seven times out of what they call ‘love’, which is certainly not a love I’d care to know,” Kelly explained.

“Nobody with any sense is going to buy that,” Nathan noted.

“We only know it’s not really love because of the extreme circumstances. If someone told you they walked a mile out of love, would you believe them?” Kelly asked.

Nathan shrugged. “I suppose.”

“But it could be lust, or a sense of obligation; they only identify it as love and any lie detector will support that, because that’s their interpretation, because to them lust and love—or obligation and love—are the same thing.”

Nathan had to admit Kelly made a good argument. But how was truth to win if so much of it was only perception? How was one to find peace and happiness in such a minefield of disagreement and self deceit? No longer was his worry about the trial, but once again he was bothered by the great questions of the world. It was all disappointment, slowly turning to dust. Everything was doomed to end, to fizzle into nothing.

Kelly could tell he was troubled. “Don’t take it so hard,” She stated.

But how could he not?

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