The Eden Effect

by David Finchley

  She was in contact with Martin on a weekly basis, and on one occasion even snuck into Eden to meet with him. Martin had kept Natalie up to date with developments but no one else. He felt guilty about not telling Arthur, but feared that any many mention of Tracey to Arthur would open old wounds. Arthur had returned to his old self and Martin did not want to do anything to jeopardise that. Martin was sure that Arthur would be just as excited as he was about the developments, but it would have to wait. The Eden Effect. The thing even had a name and all thanks to Tracey. Martin even considered sending Tracey a cheque in gratitude for what she had done, but Natalie was against it. Ethically, it would put Tracey in a difficult position and would lead to questions about her objectivities. So he didn’t.

  The second survey went without a hitch. The psychologists packed up and left having collated their results and transmitted them. The participation rate was only slightly lower than in the first survey. Some of the older residents had become too ill or too frail to attend, a few, just a handful could not be bothered. The offices were vacated and locked. The three secretaries returned to their normal lives and was all over.

  The twelve months were up. A full page notice appeared in the Eden Star on a Tuesday. The notice thanked the people of Eden and informed them that the project was over. The media restrictions would be lifted, the Internet filters removed, and everything would return to exactly how it had been twelve months before. The implementation date was to be one week from the date of the notice and as before, the notice was signed ‘The Eden Foundation: Moving Forward.’

  That afternoon Martin and Arthur were at home. Natalie was in her studio, a rare visit.

  ‘It’s all over, Martin,’ Arthur said. ‘We now have to wait for results of the two surveys. Professor Malcolm said it would take at least a month to analyse the results. She wants them verified by an independent assessor before announcing. Nothing more we can do.’

  ‘There is something I should tell you, Arthur. But first let me explain. I’ve known about this for a while. This information came from Tracey and I have not told you before because there was no way of telling you without Tracey’s name coming up and I thought that would upset you.’

  Arthur said nothing.

  Martin continued. ‘As of last week there were thirty three towns, all small towns but all over the world that have done what we did. And what we did has a name, Arthur. It’s called The Eden Effect. That’s what Tracey started calling it and the name stuck. You probably don’t want to hear this, but Tracey has been at the forefront of this thing. She has been amazing.’

  Martin stopped. He was a little apprehensive about Arthur’s reaction.

  ‘Thirty three. That’s pretty impressive. You really have started something, Martin, haven’t you? Bloody hell. Thirty three. That’s amazing. Good for Tracey. I’m sure it has done her career no harm at all. The Eden Effect. I like that.’

  Martin was relieved. Perhaps Arthur was over Tracey, the mention of her did not seem to faze him.

  Arthur continued. ‘That is all very well, Martin, but unless the survey is objectively proved, the so called Eden Effect, then it’s all been for nothing. How long do you think those thirty three towns would continue if the results were negative?’

  ‘I agree, Arthur. As you’ve said, we just have to wait. But it’s exciting never the less.’

  ‘Martin, are you there?’ Natalie’s voice rang out from somewhere to the back of the house.

  ‘I’m here Natalie, what’s up?’

  ‘Telephone for you. It’s Mayor Gibson.’

  ‘Thanks, Natalie. I’ll get it.’

  Martin picked up the phone and Arthur could hear him say, ‘hello Alan, it’s Martin. How are you?’ Then a pause. ‘Sure, I’ll be there, four o’clock. Yes, I’ll ask Arthur to come too.’ Martin hung up the phone.

  ‘Come where, Martin?’ Arthur asked. What did the Mayor want?’

  ‘He wants to meet with us. He has something important to tell us about the project. Sounded a bit mysterious. I guess we will find out in hour.’

  At precisely four o’clock, Martin and Arthur presented themselves to Mayor Gibson’s P.A. She said, ‘go right in,’ which they did.

  The Mayor was sitting behind his desk, he motioned towards the two visitor chairs and then they sat down.

  ‘Hi Alan,’ said Martin.

  ‘Good afternoon, Mayor,’ said Arthur.

  ‘I’ll get straight to the point.’ Mayor Gibson had no time for small talk.

  ‘Saw the notice in The Star this morning.’

  ‘People should be pleased,’ said Martin. ‘It’s all over. Everyone can go back to normal. Free to read, hear and watch whatever they want.’

  ‘That’s just I wanted to talk you about,’ said the Mayor. ‘For the last month the Council has been receiving emails, letters, and telephone calls. You’ve got no idea how many. All the messages, without exception, are the same. People don’t want the restrictions to come off. Everyone seems happy with the way things are. People are concerned that if things go back to how they were before, they would be tempted to watch stories that have managed very well without for twelve months. They prefer not to have access to them. What do you make of that?’

  Arthur was the first to reply. ‘Legally and contractually we have to stop. We are committed to it. What people do is for them to decide. But I have to say, this is unexpected.’

  Martin added, ‘As far as I know, Arthur is right, Alan. Maybe we’ve done some good after all. We’re still waiting for the survey results.’

  ‘I’m not interested in your survey, Martin. What do I tell people?’

  ‘Tell them, just as the notice says, as of one week from today everything goes back to how it was. Tell them there is no way around that. And tell them that they are free to choose what they want to read and watch after that. It will be their choice, not ours,’ Martin replied.

  ‘Fair enough, I’ll get the word out. You know, I was sceptical about all this. I, we, the Council had our arms twisted to agree to your ‘experiment’. But it looks Martin as if you really did have something there. I congratulate you. I know you have to wait for the survey results. I get that. But survey results or not, something good has happened here, Martin, there’s no denying it.’

  Martin and Arthur left. They were smiling and as they exited the Council Chambers they high-fived each other.

  The Eden Effect kept on spreading. It was not clear how this was happening but it was happening. More and more small towns and communities joined in. In self-contained towns like Eden it was possible to arrange it on a town wide basis, just as Eden had done. In bigger towns and in the big cities this was not possible. But there, individuals were taking matters into their own hands. They were voting with their feet. Less and less news was being watched on Free to Air TV. Hardest hit were the pay TV providers who all had three or four 24-hour news channels. In thousands of households those channels had stopped being watched at all.

  What was initially considered to be a quirk, an aberration, a herd effect that would not last, soon became a cause of concern. Ratings were down. Seriously down. And nothing upset media proprietors more than falling ratings and the accompanying falls in advertising revenue. Pay TV subscriptions were down.

  Even the mainstream newspapers were affected. Sales were dropping in daily newspapers in Europe, United States, Australia, all over. At the same time, local community newspapers were thriving. In most Australian cities these local papers were free. Most did not make into the houses to which they were delivered. They were often taken out of the letterbox and deposited unread into the recycle bins.

  But that was changing. There was a renewed interest in the local news at the expense of the mass circulation daily newspapers, which were as a result losing advertising revenue. At the same time, revenue of the local papers was rising.

  The media proprietors were reassured by their staff that there was no real cause for concern. Yes, revenues were down but only a few percent. Y
es, the changes in the public news habits were occurring all over the world, but numbers were small and they felt confident that this was just a passing phase. People want the news, the proprietors were confidently told. They always have and they always will.

  Back in Eden, D-day was fast approaching. Martin had received a telephone call from Professor Malcolm to inform him that the results were available, but were being checked by an independent body as she had requested. She would be in a position to release them in a week.

  Professor Malcolm said she wanted to come to Eden and present the results to Martin first, before releasing them publicly. Martin thanked her and they arranged to meet in a week, Professor Malcolm said she would bring one of her assistants who will present the results, and Martin told her that he would like Arthur to be present to which she agreed.

  Martin informed Arthur of the upcoming meeting, and Arthur said that of course he would be there. Martin also telephoned Tracey to let her know. She too was anxious to find out the results, but of course, could not be at the meeting. Tracey said she would like to be in Eden at the time of the release of the survey results and wondered whether Martin would agree to another interview on air, but conducted in Eden and not back in the studios.

  Martin said he would do the interview, but wanted to leave it for two or three days to give himself time to digest the results and Tracey agreed. The interview was to take place at Martin’s home. The only problem was going to be Arthur. Neither said as much, but that was what they were both thinking.

  Martin knew he would have to tell Arthur ahead of time. There was no way he could spring this on him at the last minute. He had a week, and hoped that an opportune time would come up.

  No such opportune time materialised and with only two days to go, Martin had no choice but to broach the subject with Arthur on their morning run. He left it as late as possible, just as they were heading back. Martin made sure he was driving that morning.

  ‘Arthur, there is something I should let you know,’ he began.

  ‘Let me guess, Martin. You are going to do another interview with Tracey after we get the results.’

  Martin was stunned. Had someone already told Arthur? He certainly hadn’t and to his knowledge, Arthur and Tracey were not in touch with each other.

  ‘Yes, Arthur. You don’t mind, do you?’

  ‘Why should I mind? I think it’s an excellent idea. Don’t worry about me, Martin. Remember, I’m the old Arthur again. The Tracey issue is well behind me. I have no problem with it at all.’

  Martin felt a sense of relief, although he would not be sure that he would completely believe Arthur. No more was said on the subject that morning.

  Martin had already told Natalie and the first response had been, ‘what about Arthur?’ That afternoon when Martin relayed his conversation with Arthur, Natalie sounded sceptical.

  ‘That’s just what I would expect Arthur to say. He’s not going to let on how he is really feeling. I am sure he also agrees that the interview is a good idea and he would never get in the way.’

  The next two days passed unremarkably and the day had finally arrived. That morning, Martin and Arthur rushed through their deliver run and were back by 9.30am. They parted ways and would be back at the house at 2pm when Professor Malcolm and her assistant were expected.

  At five minutes past two, the doorbell rang. Martin answered and greeted Professor Malcolm. Next to her was her assistant who she introduced to Martin as Janice Peterson. Martin’s first impression was that Janice must be a lesbian. She was short, barely five-foot, short cropped blond hair, shaved down to the scalp on the left side. She was wearing a black suit and a black bow tie. She extended her hand and said, ‘pleased to meet you, Martin.’ Martin shook her hand and reciprocated. He showed the two women into the lounge room where Arthur had been waiting. He stood up as they entered, greeted Professor Malcolm, who introduced Janice to him also. Arthur gave Martin a quick glance. He had also formed the same impression.

  The diminutive Janice was carrying a bag on her shoulder, which was almost a third of her size. It contained a laptop, which she removed and placed on the coffee table and preceded to switch it on.

  A moment later, a look of incredulity spread across her face when Martin informed her that no, she could not email the results to his computer for him to view as he had no computer, let alone access to the Internet.

  Undeterred, Janice simply said, ‘we’ll just have to crowd around my laptop then.’

  Martin and Arthur took up positions on either side of Janice who had placed herself in the centre of the couch. Professor Malcolm sat on the armchair, opposite.

  ‘Obviously, I’ve already seen the results. I’ll just listen,’ she said.

  It took another thirty seconds or so for the laptop to be up and running.

  ‘Let me start by saying that the results I’m about to present you contain both good news and bad news. As it happens, the good news is yours and the bad news is ours.’

  Rather cryptic, thought Arthur. By ours, he assumed Janice meant hers and Professor Malcolm’s. He wondered whether they may have been a couple. He looked across the Professor who was not wearing a wedding ring. Maybe so, he thought, but what did it matter.

  Janice continued. ‘Just a few explanatory words about the surveys and if you will indulge me, a bit of statistics and methodology.’

  Martin and Arthur waited. Martin hoped that she would not get too technical. He tried to concentrate hard.

  ‘The aim of the project was to determine whether or not restricting news people received, and specifically, eliminating all violent, unpleasant or otherwise distressing news, would have a positive effect on people’s wellbeing.’

  So far so good, Martin thought. Janice continued. She sounded like a lecturer in front of a university class.

  ‘The population was surveyed before and after the news restrictions. And as you know, the surveys used were proven and validated measurements of people’s happiness, sense of wellbeing and outlook on life. I won’t go into details, but suffice to say, that no one in this field would argue with the testing protocols we chose. You can take our word for that. There is however a flaw with the methodology used. A flaw that was unavoidable, but nevertheless a flaw.’

  This does not sound good. Both Arthur and Martin were beginning to feel uneasy.

  ‘In an ideal situation, to prove the hypothesis, there should be two groups. The so-called active group and a control group who should be approximately equal in size. What do I mean by this?’

  She was definitely lecturing, Martin thought, becoming a little annoyed. Get on with it.

  ‘What I mean,’ Janice went on, ‘is that ideally the population should have been split in half. One half would be exposed to the restricted news and the half would continue to receive the news as before. Clearly, this could not be done. There was no way to achieve this even with all the available technology. We had to accept this at the start. So there was going to be no way to compare an active group or the control group, thus lessening the statistical validity of the findings. Fortunately, there is ample data from longitudinal studies of various groups of people. These people have been surveyed repeatedly over a number of years, and so we have data on natural history. In other words, how people’s happiness, outlook on life, etcetera, varies over time. It is this data that would therefore be our surrogate controls. Do you follow me so far?’

  Martin and Arthur both nodded. Arthur’s eyes were beginning to glaze over and Martin had lost her three sentences back.

  ‘And now for the results.’

  Finally, thought Martin and made another effort to concentrate hard. But it was no use. What followed were graph after graph appearing on the laptop with Janice’s lecturing voice explaining the minutiae of the findings of each graph. She did not even bother to ask if they were following or even understood anything she said. They weren’t and they didn’t.

  ‘So, now to summarise. As you can see from the data, there is the good
news, which as I said, is yours and unfortunately the bad news ours.’

  Neither Martin nor Arthur could see or in the least bit comprehend. This must have been written all over their faces as Janice added.

  ‘Basically Martin, you were right. On every measure that we took, at the end of the twelve months, the people of Eden were happier, more content and had an improved outlook on life. Just as you hoped would occur. Does that prove that the restriction on the news they were receiving was responsible? Well, no, but in the absence of any other variables taking place in Eden over that period of time, the evidence is compelling. So, again Martin, your hypothesis is correct, at least as best as can be objectively determined. Congratulations.’

  Martin was smiling. He felt elated.

  ‘And the bad news?’ Arthur asked, tentatively.

  ‘Ah, yes, the bad news. Well, as I have already said, the bad news is for us. The result whilst positive did however not reach statistical significance, not using the model we had to use, flawed as it was. And in our business, statistical significance is everything. Without it, the results just point to a trend.’

  That was Professor Malcolm.

  ‘So that’s our bad news. Nothing to publish. Can’t say I am not disappointed, Martin. But leaving that aside, the good news, and your news is really good. Forget the statistics for now. I’ve no doubt you have proven what you have set out to prove. And really, instinctively it is to be expected. I’m aware of what is happening around the world, Martin. Others have followed your lead. But without your lead none of this would have happened, you realise. I can’t imagine that anyone else would have been able to successfully initiate what you did. So, congratulations. Well done. It’s been a privilege working with you.’