In fact, after three years, when it presented its report before the assembly of the Nobels, the government could pride itself on the following accomplishments:
The idea of being a citizen of the world had been planted in everyone’s minds. The harmful fantasies of nationalism had been dispelled.
There was no question of there being any more war. The only armed force was the police which was under the control of the government. It was only used, and then with discernment, to maintain public order. Its use became increasingly rare.
The world population was stabilised at a density which allowed for the rational use of resources, without waste or shortage.
Concerning famine, it can be said that pure hunger had become a thing of the past. As Fawell had foreseen, the abundance of surplus goods in certain regions and the large number of usable forms of transport had provided solutions to emergency problems within a few weeks. His programme for cultivation had brought about a definitive solution to all problems of this kind. The Sahara was now partly irrigated and fertile, as were some deserts in Asia.
Everyone was reasonably well housed, in conditions of perfect hygiene and with all the comforts they could desire.
Economic crises had become impossible, as production, business and commerce were in the hands of a central organisation, which maintained a balanced state of affairs everywhere, taking into account everybody’s interests.
Finally, what was probably the most important result, and essential for the eventual success of the operation, the total amount of work required of humanity had been reduced by a considerable proportion, thanks to centralisation and the coherent organisation of industry and agriculture, and also thanks to increased scientific and technical aid, which revealed itself in the use of machines to carry out all menial chores. The average daily working period was two hours, which was sufficient to guarantee everyone an easy life. And the trend was for it to become even less.
Having thereby settled these material problems, and after having been congratulated by the Nobels, Fawell judged that it was time to devote himself to the second part of his programme, the spiritual realm, a task which had not yet been tackled seriously. A preliminary stage would have to be what Wells called the ‘sublimation of interest’, the first levels of ascension, while waiting for the glorious flight towards the noosphere of Father Teilhard.
Being a realist, not trying to conceal the difficulties on the path he had chosen for humanity, and having decided to conquer them at a reasonable pace, Fawell called this stage the scientific realisation of the world. For he thought more than ever that it was necessary for the whole world to collaborate to achieve the final goal, which was for science to fathom all the mysteries of the universe. More than ever he wanted to avoid the dangerous pitfall, pointed out sarcastically by the science-fiction writers of former times: the division of humanity into two classes, scholars and the others, the latter condemned to rough practical work, and the former enclosed in an ivory tower too cramped to allow a full development of the mind.
His first concern was to create a central organisation, designed to guarantee education for all, another enterprise that had never been attempted, except in a restricted and horribly imperfect way, and always favouring a very small elite to the detriment of the masses.
The government, which was unanimously behind its head on matters of general principle, was invited to discuss what to call this organisation. The majority of the ministers suggested calling it the World Ministry of Education. And this title was about to be adopted when Mrs Betty Han asked to speak.
‘It would be cleverer,’ she said, ‘to call it the World Ministry of Leisure Activities. We want to educate humanity, but we should do it tactfully. Admittedly we have liberated it from slavery, and it is aware of this progress and appreciates it. And admittedly it ought to devote part of its precious time snatched from practical work in this way to the study of science. But should we give it the impression that our sole aim, in winning for it some hours of freedom, was to direct it towards other forms of work? Education must be made to look attractive.’
‘But it is our goal,’ Zarratoff protested, ‘to devote these leisure hours to Science.’
Yranne was of the same opinion, but Fawell supported Betty, whose advice in the subtle field of psychology he always appreciated.
‘I think she is right,’ he said. The world must first become aware of its freedom. It must approach Science gradually with a sense of freedom. I vote for “World Ministry of Leisure Activities”.’
When the others finally approved of this title, the World Ministry of Leisure Activities was created, and it was decided to divide it simply into two departments: Education and Games. And it was Betty again who proposed the latter title and brought about its acceptance, in opposition to the wishes of Yranne and above all Zarratoff, who had felt physically tortured by the term ‘games’ since he had unwisely watched some televised entertainments one evening. Both he and Yranne maintained that a scientific government which was worthy of the name should, on the contrary, set about progressively suppressing such infantile amusements for which humanity had only too many natural weaknesses.
‘Games,’ replied Betty, ‘are indispensable. The ludic instinct is still very much alive in the world, as you yourselves realise, so that we cannot neglect it and must provide it with some forms of satisfaction. Don’t you play chess?’
The astronomer shrugged his shoulders and grumbled that no comparison could be made between the arduous combinations in chess, which activated the highest intellectual faculties, and the trivial activities involved in ordinary entertainments. But here again Fawell supported Betty and the government went along with this opinion.
Thus the two departments of the Ministry of Leisure Activities were created. Huge resources were allocated at once to Education, in proportion to its mission, which was not very broad in scope. As for Games, which was in any case considered secondary by all the scholars, it was only granted limited personnel and few funds. Concerning this last point Mrs Betty Han had different ideas, which she wanted to outline to the assembly. But her warnings were not recognised on this occasion. She was not annoyed, but declared simply that one day they would probably regret not having listened to the advice of a psychologist.
Part Two
1.
That morning Fawell found in his post the report that Zarratoff had sent to him from France. He immediately entrusted all the other letters to a secretary, and, alone in his presidential office, he started to read the document which he had been waiting for impatiently.
It was almost two years since the Ministry of Leisure Activities had undertaken the education of humanity, but the scope of the task was such that this period of time was not sufficient to assess the results.
An immense network of scientific culture embraced the world. Almost everywhere grand institutions had been set up, with amphitheatres which were sufficiently numerous and vast, that, by a skilfully organized rota, entire populations of towns and country areas could be seated in them in the course of one day. And they had libraries containing, in thousands of copies of books, everything that was needed to elevate the mind, from the rudiments of the sciences to the most up-to-date and most complex theories.
These centres were equally endowed with a considerable number of study rooms, micro-films, projection equipment and televisions, which allowed everyone to become familiar with infinite aspects of the universe. In laboratories equipped with the most modern instruments, each student could do their own experiments on atoms, causing them to split, follow the magic whirling of particles through betatrons and cyclotrons, and measure with extremely sensitive pieces of apparatus the periods of several billionths of a second which separate the birth and death of certain mesons.
The material funds required by the education department were truly gigantic. Even with the world’s wealth at their disposal, the government had had to work new wonders of ingenuity and rationalisation to find the necessary re
sources. But the goal was worth the effort and the best brains had been successfully employed in the task.
The essential thing, of course, had not been neglected: an army of professors, masters and assistants, all highly qualified, had been mobilised and put at the disposal of the world’s students. Many of them had therefore to interrupt important research. They resigned themselves to the fact, when Fawell convinced them that there was no more urgent task and no higher duty than to pass on their knowledge to all, so that humanity, transformed into a breeding-ground for scholars, could realize its destiny. As the most qualified ones, the members of the government, could not, however, leave their posts, the President had decided that they would visit the new centres periodically, as advisers and inspectors, and could take advantage of their stay to hold high-level conferences in their special fields.
This is what Zarratoff, who was still in France, was doing, at one of the most important centres of astronomical studies. Fawell had asked him to convey his first impressions to him personally as soon as possible. He read the first report eagerly.
The first part concerned the setting up of the centre and the organisation of studies. Zarratoff found nothing in particular to criticise about these. Considerable effort had been taken, as everywhere, to make working conditions easier for the multitude of students, who flocked there each day, and sometimes came from remote regions. Networks of trains, airplanes and helicopters ensured fast and regular transport. All this functioned without a hitch. There was a large amount of equipment of the best quality. Several observatories with powerful telescopes and the most modern optical instruments allowed everyone to view distant worlds, photograph them and analyse the spectra and concentration of waves which mysterious and sometimes obscure bodies are constantly emitting into space. Both masters and their assistants were competent and dedicated.
Fawell passed rapidly over these achievements, which he already knew about, and his face grew sombre as he read what followed. Zarratoff expressed it in the following way:
…But, since the first hours after my arrival, it did not seem to me that the results anticipated by us were being satisfied. Passionate feelings for scientific questions do not exist. Ordinary interest is only weak. A thirst for knowledge has not yet revealed itself. The people come to the centre. They listen to the lectures. They go and sit in the libraries and leaf through some books. They attend film showings. And they put their eyes close to a telescope, but they seem to do this as though they are carrying out an order, as if they were afraid that if they did not do it they would be noticed or even attract reprimands, rather than doing it out of a passionate desire to learn. Several of the masters have the same impression I do. So I questioned the students and I noticed that they had not assimilated the spirit of the lessons. Some had managed to learn entire sections of what they were taught by heart, without appearing to be able to evaluate their implications or great significance. There’s often an absence of simple curiosity…
‘“A lack of enthusiasm.” Betty would say,’ Fawell murmured bitterly, ‘Our worst enemy.’
…So I wanted to respond in some way and try myself to arouse this spirit of scientific curiosity. Perhaps the masters did not know how to come down to the level of their new pupils? Or perhaps, on the other hand, as often happened in former times, they did not deal with the questions at a sufficiently high level to catch their attention from the start of the course, ignoring if need be certain details to bring them face to face straight away with what was essential? So I decided that I myself would give two lectures and I chose a topic which I think is suitable for arousing everyone’s passions: the Universe, the Universe considered as a whole, its birth, its probable nature, and its eventual death.
I have just finished the first of these lectures. Having kept the most important topics for the subsequent lecture, I had first to apply myself to fill in many gaps and to destroy quite a lot of incorrect ideas among my listeners. I therefore started with an illustrative tableau of the cosmos, as it has been almost understood by us for more than a century, with the aid of crude instruments and elementary reasoning.
I started out with the planet Earth, showing its place in the solar system. Then I defined our sun as a star among billions of other stars. Next I described how stars were grouped into a nebula, which is our galaxy. By the use of simple examples suitable for making an impression on their minds I illustrated the average distances inside a stellar system and the distances between the stars. I gave them a general idea of the form and principal dimensions of this galaxy. I am giving you a summary of all this to show you the general outlines of my plan and help you to be aware of my situation: I had in fact noticed that they had very confused ideas about these simple concepts. I can assure you that I spared neither effort nor eloquence in clarifying these ideas.
When I had the impression that they finally had a sufficiently clear vision of our immediate environment, I was able to present our nebula as a simple unity among billions of galaxies which were more or less similar, and which had formerly been regarded as cells of the universe. I went one step further in showing them that these were grouped in interdependent wholes, which themselves were nowadays regarded as cells of the cosmos.
Then, and only when I was sure that all this had been absorbed by their minds, I outlined a picture of the relative movements of these cells, thereby suggesting how the universe was expanding. It was with this image that I came to the end of my first lecture, showing how these worlds were moving away from each other, flying off at increasing speeds, and I left my students with this grandiose vision, which was sufficiently mysterious and suitable for captivating their minds. I think I can flatter myself that I was persuasive and eloquent enough to stimulate their imagination and arouse in them the desire to know more…
‘At least one person will be satisfied with this lecture,’ Fawell commented in a low voice.
But the end of the report seemed to demonstrate that Zarratoff was not the only one to be pleased with his account, and the President’s forehead gradually cleared when he read the optimistic conclusion.
…When I finished, my listeners applauded warmly and admiring whispers informed me that I had not taken so much trouble in vain. I am also sure that I could detect in the expressions of many of them the birth of that curiosity and fervour, the absence of which had worried me. Questions were put when I ajsked for them, which showed that they had grasped at least the importance and the majesty of these problems, even if they had not yet assimilated all the details.
My dear friend, I wish to state to you this evening, that, concerning astronomy, I believe that we are on the right path and that we will reach our goal. But it will be necessary to insist that our other masters also introduce some passion into their courses and do them justice, as I myself attempted to do. The first result is encouraging. I shall attempt to excel myself in the second lecture, next week, after which I will send you another report.
Fawell put the letter down again and remained pensive for a long time.
‘Passion and doing it justice,’ he murmured. ‘He’s right, as far as teaching is concerned. Zarratoff can do it, but few masters can. Far too many tend to present a very narrow view of their subject.
After having thought about the matter again, he judged that the moment had arrived when the highest scientific authorities should make their contributions. Yranne had just left for China for a tour like that of the astronomer. Absorbed with his duties and his presidential responsibilities, Fawell had not yet been able to plan any programme for himself. He reproached himself for neglecting it, and decided straight away to visit a centre for physics which had been established near New York and to deliver a lecture there. Postponing all his presidential duties, he began to prepare his topic immediately.
2.
‘Read it,’ said Fawell.
An hour before, he had received the second report from Zarratoff and had asked Betty to come to his office, feeling the need to discuss it with her.
‘What’s the matter, Fawell?’ she asked, looking at him. ‘You look worried. Is it not as encouraging as the first?’
‘Read it,’ the President repeated, with a gloomy expression.
Betty read obediently, in a low voice.
‘“…I started with the vision with which I finished my previous lecture: the expanding universe, a body in which every molecule is moving away from every other molecule, and every galaxy from every other galaxy at a speed which is proportional to the distance which separates them. I thought it was a good idea to stress, in a way which I hope was striking, the paradoxical, wonderful character, almost like a miracle, of this phenomenon.
‘“Well, feeling that they had a correct view of reality before them, I was able to tackle the problems which concern us, to enable them to have a sense of their importance and scale. First, going backwards against the flow of time, I talked to them in the following way, using the language of logic, which is the mother of creative imagination:
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