Early societal chapters
“My early drafts of Surveillance originally contained chapters which were more societal comments than anything to do with the story. I was experimenting as a writer with format and style. They were taken out early in the editing process as they served more to confuse than explain!”
Chapter X
Lizzie Borden took an axe
And gave her mother forty whacks.
When she saw what she had done,
She gave her father forty-one.
Skipping Rhyme
Let’s start by tidying up history. Many people have heard the rhyme and the conclusion appears obvious, but incorrect. Lizzie Borden’s stepmother died from 18 or 19 blows from a hatchet, her father died from 11 blows. In 1893, a jury acquitted Lizzie Borden of murdering her father and stepmother, they remain unsolved crimes.
An axe is an implement, nothing more, nothing less. You can buy one from a hardware store and use it to chop things down or up. Implements are impartial. The hatchet used to murder Lizzie Borden’s parents was neither good nor evil. Its use made it part of an evil act on August 4, 1892 at 230 Second Street, Fall River, Massachusetts.
The internet, social media, smart phones, cameras and facial recognition technology are implements. Government and private organisations are combining these implements into a large, razor-sharp axe. The question is not, will it be good or evil for society? The question is, who will be wielding the axe? Benevolent governments focused on enhancing civic life while making the world inhabitable for a diverse ecosystem of flora and fauna; or those ladened with sociopaths fixated with power, money and their own importance?
Society needs to consider this axe carefully.
Chapter N
“Chaos - the inherent unpredictability in the behaviour of a complex natural system.”
A typical person has an after-work drink. They have a second, drinking it slowly. They leave within the legal limit for driving. They arrive home to be greeted by their partner and children.
A typical person has an after-work drink. They have a second, drinking it slowly. They leave within the legal limit for driving. An out of control car veers into their path. They swerve but the cars collide. They are taken to hospital with severe injuries which prevent them returning to work. As the months pass, they develop depression. Their marriage fails and they become addicted to prescription medications.
A typical person has an after-work drink. They leave after one drink. An out of control car veers into their path. They react in time; the cars narrowly miss. They arrive home to be greeted by their partner and children with a story to tell.
A typical person has an after-work drink. They leave after one drink. An out of control car veers into their path. They react quickly; the cars narrowly miss but it is a busy street and their car crashes into a taxi killing the driver. They are uninjured and arrive home late to be greeted by their worried partner and children with a story they don’t want to tell.
That’s the butterfly effect. It is not about butterflies or typhoons - it’s about chance, luck and randomness. It’s the chaos of complex systems whose behaviour is so unpredictable as to appear random, owing to the sensitivity to small changes in conditions. The outcome from a chance virus transmission . . .
Scientific advancement has seduced us to believe we’re in control, that the world has order. But war, icebergs, depressions, tyrants, pandemics, climate change, random crime remind us that it is the illusion of control. The world is always a singular moment away from chaos.
Each year in New Zealand, hundreds of people die in road accidents. Next year, hundreds will again die, statistics make this inevitable. Take a fatal accident, rewind the victim’s life an hour and change a small action. The chance they arrive at the moment in time and space that lead to their death trends to zero. Stop for coffee. Don’t stop for coffee. Drive five kilometres over, or under, the speed limit. Take a left. Take a right . . .
Chaos.
