The Year's Best Science Fiction & Fantasy 2015 Edition

by Rich Horton

  This can be illustrated by Glaxco’s development of ‘Faceshapers’, bugs that cause non-metastasising tumours to grow on various areas of the upper body and skull. The drugs necessary to reverse these growths were not cheap; and some people (especially in the climate-change affected equatorial areas) were compelled to live with the deformities. But many young people in the affluent west actively embraced this Bug, going so far as arranging Trademark Bug Swap Parties. The aim was to alter the body in ways deemed ‘cool’. Particularly valued were horns of bone growing under the skin on shoulders and collar-bone, or so-called ‘Klingon’ or ‘Publikumsbeschimpfung’ growths on the forehead and cheeks.

  Legal challenges were sometimes mounted against the new strains of bug, but without success. The big court cases of the ’60s went, as it were, the other way: in particular PN v. Raj Choudhury (Schwarz-Gardos 2065c). Choudhury had made a personal fortune in IT, and set up a company that bought medication from Glaxco, PN and Bayer in bulk, and then distributed it free at clinics in the Third World. PN agreed to Glaxco and Bayer to take on the task of challenging this in court, as restraint of trade and violation of the terms of sale. The case lasted three weeks, in which Choudury’s main defence—humanitarianism—was legally demolished. Choudhury was fined, and imprisoned after refusing to pay. His assets were seized and distributed to the plaintiff.

  Through the early ’70s the Big Three confined their new products to cosmetic and minor afflictions. Bayer had a hit in ’74 with their Kahlkopf product. Male-pattern baldness having been cured in the ’40s, the effect of this Bug—it affected both men and women with rapid-onset alopecia—was extraordinary. Sales of the cure pushed Bayer into the top position, profit-wise. Bayer were also the first of the big three to break the €10 trillion annual profit barrier (PN currently hold the all-time record, with their one-year profit of €74 trillion, although these figures do not include monies made that are tax-deductible under charitable, educational and defence budgets) [Figures estimated under academic ‘fair use’ rules].

  4. Tax consequences of Big Three success

  Big Three annual profits began outstripping the GDPs of even the world’s largest countries in the early ’60s. By the ’80s it was clear that these commercial organisations were, simply, doing a better job of ‘titheing’ the population than nation-states had previously managed with old-fashioned tax collection paradigms. The use of the term ‘tithe’ was forwarded by the various financial restructuring proposals of ’83, and challenged in court. The Russian Federation fought the longest legal battle on this (see Brohstein 93 for a detailed account), but by the middle of the decade the only countries that retained a ‘traditional’ old-style tax regimen were few and small-scale. The bigger countries all passed over to systems where income tax and sales taxes were reduced to between 2% and 5%—and in some cases abolished altogether (less than 2% did not provide enough income to cover the expense of gathering the tax). Where previous generations had worked and then paid tax on work income, the new generations quickly adapted to receiving their salaries effectively tax-free, but paying money instead to maintain baseline levels of health and productivity.

  The balance was simple: (a) pay the Big Three for the so-called Omnipills, that protected against all the traditional Trademark Bugs—as an expense, this averaged 17% of average income in most countries, although (being price rather than index-determined) it was flat-rate, benefitting the wealthy at the relative expense of the poor. Or (b) elect not to buy health, and attempt to work through whatever illnesses ensued. The ‘soap-and-water’ test was tested in court in 2086, when it was claimed that the Bayer Bug ‘Emerald Rash’ survived soap. The outcome (Kawasaki-86d) was that ‘soap’ was taken, legally, to include a variety of proprietary antibacterial washes and wipes. ‘It is clear,’ writes Bandari, ‘that this would not have been accepted by the courts of the ’30s and ’40s. But public attitudes to the role of Trademark Bugs in society had shifted’ (Bandari 2089).

  The Big Three funded national programmes of education, policing and crime; and sponsored infrastructure programmes. Many countries retained ‘traditional’ tax only in order to fund their military, although EU, South American and East Asian nations were happy to have the Pharma companies supply defence needs as well. Faced with an impending legal challenge on the ‘no taxation without representation’ principle, Bayer and Glaxco created a second variety of publically tradable share—giving the owner the right to vote on public policy, but not commercial or proprietary, matters. By 2090 PN followed suit, and by the century’s end—at time of writing—democracy has adapted to the new model across much of the globe. ‘Voting’ is now something a citizen does if they opt-in to the political process by buying voting shares. If s/he chooses not to do so they are deemed, legally, to have surrendered their democratic rights.

  5. Legal Implications of Combat

  It is hard to assess the long-term impact of the financial success of Trademark Bugs, and is beyond the scope of the present paper. The purpose of this final section is to consider the potential consequences of on-going litigation pertaining to the Bangladeshi Conflict.5 The high casualty figures of this conflict,6 as much as the central role played by Pharma companies,7 render it a test-case for the on-going development of Trademark Bugs in the future of international relations. What is clear is that conflict represents a significant legal test-case for what amounts to a radically revisioned basis for civic and legal management of Trademark Bugs, up to and including a complete restatement of the Porter Rules for their commercial exploitation.

  Despite being officially termed the ‘Bangladeshi War’, the conflict has spread across a much larger area than the Bay of Bengal. At the same time it is also true that the Battle for the port of Chaţţagrama—in Bangladesh—has been one of the biggest of the war so far. The whole region has suffered much more markedly from climate change than other areas on the globe, and economic growth of an averagely consistent 3% per 5 years has been diluted by outstripping population increases. The whole area shares with central Mexico the distinction of the world’s highest rates of untreated Trademark Bug infections. At the same time, the Big Three have directed in excess of €5billion humanitarian aid, including €220 million worth of free antiseptic soap, dispersed in the area since 2091.

  The main antagonists in the war (despite the use of nation-state shell identities) are generally agreed as being Bayer on the one hand, and on the other an alliance of smaller, ambitious and emergent pharmaceutical companies, led by the Myanmar Pharmaceutical Manufacturers Union (MPMU). The latter brought together troops from Myanmar, Malaysia and India; the former deployed armies from Russian Federation and EU states. The specific flashpoints—control of the lucrative industrial centres positioned along the Karnaphuli River—are less relevant to our present discussion than the way the war has been prosecuted.

  A rapid conventional phase shifted suddenly in June 2098 with the release of weaponised pharma. The poisoning of the Ganges aside (not a matter of strictly legal relevance) this led to two large-scale lawsuits. One was lodged by the MPMU Alliance in the EU Supreme Court, arguing that Bayer’s pharmaceutical ordnance, deployed to cause harm and death to opposing troops, was in clear breach of the Porter Rules. Bayer’s legal defence team counter-argued that the Porter Rules were never intended to apply to a warzone. The court was told that Bayer did indeed hold reserves of meds to cure such soldiers who had not already died, and that they were prepared to release these when a peace treaty was signed.

  The MPMU tacitly conceded this suit by releasing its own weaponised pharma. Bayer filed a countersuit against the MPMU conventional weapons, on the grounds that the companies held no ‘antidote’ materiel to counter the effects of bullets and shrapnel. In peacetime this suit would almost certainly have been dismissed as vexatious litigation,8 but under the extraordinary circumstances it was allowed to proceed. It was, in fact, accepted by many as an attempt to reconfigure the nature of war along more humanitarian lines (‘our aim is leg
ally restraining more destructive conventional weaponry in favour of less destructive pharmaceutical weaponry’, was the official Bayer court statement). This suit is on-going. Recently, Bayer has undertaken pre-emptive strikes against the factories of the MPMU, following intelligence reports that they were working on trademark-infringing cures for the weapons of the Bayer forces. ‘Killing and maiming is one thing,’ said Bayer vice-chairman Hester Lu. ‘Wars have entailed that for thousands of years. But violating commercial copyrights and trademarks is quite another, and such behaviour will not be tolerated, in peace or in war’. Retaliation has brought long-range missile strikes to the European base of Bayer manufacture, and threatens to spread the conflict further.

  It is possible9 that further Pharma conflicts will develop around the world. As such, it necessary to establish legal protocols that go beyond the Geneva Convention in order to structure and horizon belligerence. At this point the joint-working team on the present paper have failed to find unanimity, and instead have agreed to position two alternate concluding paragraphs. For legal reasons, these are personalised with the names of team-leaders, although the sentiments they express were collectively agreed by the team-leader’s respective teams.

  Conclusion 1: Rachel Statton-Cummings, RPSL: ‘the financial power and influence of the income associated with Trademark Bugs has resulted in seismic changes in the political and therefore social structures of our world. Democracy has, broadly, shifted from a flat-rate one-person-one-vote model to a corporate, buy-as-many-votes-as-you-like model. Democratic engagement is still open, at least for those who can afford to buy votes, but there is no guarantee it will stay this way (US and EU sets a maximum price for voting shares at $5/€3 each; but legislation currently being debated will remove maxima and allow the market to determine rates). Freedom of speech, once a necessary plank of democracy, has been reoriented around the axis of copyright and trademark law. Above all, what could have been the greatest single step towards collective human wellbeing in the world’s history—the development of effective treatments for almost all cancers, all bacterial fevers, all GTI and skin diseases, all influenzas and even the myriad forms of the common cold—has instead been diverted into the artificial maintaining of these diseases in the general population solely to generate profits for three large and fifty-five smaller pharma companies. Trademark bugs go routinely untreated in poorer countries, causing unnecessary distress—and, since the leakage of weaponised pharma from the Asian War, often provoke long-term harm and even death. This whole situation can only be described as a collective moral wrong on a massive scale; and the international Law needs to be mobilised to address its consequences.10

  Conclusion 2: Aleksandr Aleksandrovich Golumbovsy, АПУ: There are areas where the commercial handling of Trademark Bugs could be reformed and improved, especially with respect to medical access in poorer nations. But we as legal theorists must not overlook the very powerful good that the big three Pharma companies have accomplished in the space of less than seventy years.

  Having invested trillions of dollars in research and development, these three companies developed cured pathologies that had plagued humanity for hundreds of millennia: plague, cancer, auto-immune diseases, influenza, malaria, TB, diphtheria, cholera, typhus, myriad genetic conditions and fevers. This, in a sense, is what these companies existed to do; and whilst these cures represented a massive humanitarian good, they also embodied the power of commercial self-interest. Having achieved this set of goals, it is not realistic to believe that these companies would simply roll-themselves-up and cease trading. Indeed, under the well-established legal rule of corporate individuality, it would not be licit to expect them to commit suicide in this fashion. The distribution of Trademark Bugs—in every case, much milder diseases than the ‘feral’ illness that previously afflicted humanity—provided a viable commercial model by which these companies could continue to trade, with all the benefits that entailed in terms of employment, economic stimulus and so on.

  The success of these Bugs was a function of two factors. One was the competitive pricing model adopted, whereby mild colds could be cured with cheap medicines, and only rarer, more serious illnesses required more expensive pharmaceuticals. Two was cultural inertia: people were used to getting sick with colds and flus, and they continued getting sick with these illnesses. The difference was that now they could be cured for a small financial outlay. High-profile media campaigns argued that if the companies ceased distributing their new modified bugs then the illnesses would stop happening altogether; but these failed to make significant inroads in many areas. Like taxation (discussed below), people broadly accept a degree of disease in their lives, provided only that the proportion does not rise too high.

  The broader ethics of this practice are a matter for philosophical discussion; but on the practical plane the practice has been bedded-in as a fait accompli by its prodigious financial success. This money has altered the structure of global society in ways that are (arguably) both bad and good. It is worth, however, stressing the good.

  The global spread of Trademark Bugs created the circumstances for titheing, which in turn shrunk nation-state tax collection. The Big Three are now, broadly speaking, responsible for the infrastructure, health, educational and military provision that used to be the preserve of countries. In effect the tax take has shifted from governments to these corporations. This is more ethical—since nobody is obliged to purchase the company cures, nobody is forced to pay ‘tax’—and more practical. The ‘tax’ base has widened (since everybody is liable to infection) and consequently the actual rate has reduced from an average 17% of income (by-total-population) to an average 9% [Engell 2098]. Both these outcomes are improvements. More, previously people paid tax to government and often resented it; now people pay ‘tax’ for the immediate somatic relief of freedom from a pressing illness, and are grateful. There are compelling arguments [Iglesias 2098, Kaufmann, 2099] that corporations not only collect less tax, but disburse what they do collect more efficiently than did the old governments.

  There is nothing immutable about any particular social model of structure of government. The only salient is that people are governed predictably, fairly and effectively. Attachment to the old systems merely for the sake of nostalgic attachment to tradition is illogical. The Big Three have effected a bloodless revolution and left the world, broadly speaking, better off.’

  Bibliography

  Bandari, Q., Pharma: the Social Revolution (PN Press 2089)

  Brohstein, L., Efficiency, Inefficiency, Mortality and Disbursement: an Account of Russian Federation Tax Affairs 2082-88 (Glaxco Press, 2090)

  Engell, J., Global Tax Take: a Quantitative History 1600-2100 (Bayer University Press 2098)

  Gharzai, M., The First Asian War: One Million Casualties and Counting (Scorpion Press 2099)

  Gharzai, M., Corporate Responsibility: the Limits of Genocide (Independent Distribution 2100)

  Grohmann, Freedom and Restriction of Speech: New Commercial Paradigms (PN Press 2088)

  Iglesias, M., Tax Disbursement in an Age of Mass Casualties: Commercial and Nation-State Paradigms Compared (Oxfam 2098)

  Kaufmann, S., The Metaphysics of Taxation (Glaxco Press, 2099)

  Kokoschka L, Maass G., Truman Q and Wellek R, Legal Discussion, Discourse and Social Policy: the Anglo-Russian Collaborations (5th edition, EU 2099)

  Malahat, M., An Elongated Summary of Guardian v. Glaxco, 2036-39 (Bayer Press 2090)

  Trebuchet, A., ‘Unlogged and Unplanned Feral Mutations to Trademark Bugs in the Field: a Catalogue and Assessment of Future Risk’, Journal of Independent Epidemiology 12 (Fall 2096), 55-109

  Footnotes

  1 This was itself challenged by Pontormo vs. Bayer Corporation; at a previous hearing (Gomez-2024a) Justice Cooper had equated the principle at the heart of Porter’s Second Rule to Hippocrates’ maxim that a physician should do no harm; Pontormo argued that Trademark Bugs violated this principle a priori, and that all such pro
ducts broke the Porter Rules by virtue of existing. But the legal representation for Bayer successfully argued in tribunal that they were not ‘physicians’ under the meaning of the Act. This defence depending upon the nature of corporate individuality in a legal sense: that Corporations could legally split their personalities—in this case, into two entities, ‘pathology disseminator’ and ‘physician’, without entailing any of the legal complications of ‘schizophrenia’.

  2 It should be noted that three key elements of this speech—so widely distributed—have been challenged in non-subpoenic tribunals. Specifically: (a) ‘genetically tagged flu viruses’; all Trademark Bugs at this point were marketed as ‘colds’; influenza being believed to violate the first Porter Rule. Several legal experts have challenged this. (b) ‘People are being forced into the position . . . ’ was challenged as tendentious, in that it implied an a priori breach of the Third Porter Rule. Sun-2029d rules that the soap-and-water test negated any imputation that people were being ‘forced’ to become ill via the release of Trademark Bugs. (c) The accusation of ‘monopolistic’ practice was immediately challenged by several suits, the reporting of which in turn led to the case of Glaxco vs The Guardian, detailed below.