people are reflected in their interrelationships. One man standing by himself tells us nothing. But as soon as he says something, passes on information in an altered form, or merely expresses an attitude—he becomes a reference point. He can be marked, measured and entered on a graph. His actions can be grouped with others and the action of the group measured. Man—and his society—then becomes a systems problem that can be fed into a computer. We’ve cut the Gordian knot of the three-L’s and are on our way towards a solution.”
* * * * *
“Stop!” Costa said, raising his hand. “I was with you as far as the 3L’s. What are they? A private code?”
“Not a code—abbreviation. Linear Logic Language, the pitfall of all the old researchers. All of them, historians, sociologists, political analysts, anthropologists, were licked before they started. They had to know all about A and B before they could find C. Facts to them were always hooked up in a series. Whereas in truth they had to be analyzed as a complex circuit complete with elements like positive and negative feedback, and crossover switching. With the whole thing being stirred up constantly by continual homeostasis correction. It’s little wonder they did do badly.”
“You can’t really say that,” Adao Costa protested. “I’ll admit that Societics has carried the art tremendously far ahead. But there were many basics that had already been discovered.”
“If you are postulating a linear progression from the old social sciences—forget it,” Neel said. “There is the same relationship here that alchemy holds to physics. The old boys with their frog guts and awful offal knew a bit about things like distilling and smelting. But there was no real order to their knowledge, and it was all an unconsidered by-product of their single goal, the whole nonsense of transmutation.”
They passed a lounge, and Adao waved Neel in after him, dropping into a chair. He rummaged through his pockets for a cigarette, organizing his thoughts. “I’m still with you,” he said. “But how do we work this back to the k-factor?”
“Simple,” Neel told him. “Once you’ve gotten rid of the 3L’s and their false conclusions. Remember that politics in the old days was all We are angels and They are devils. This was literally believed. In the history of mankind there has yet to be a war that wasn’t backed by the official clergy on each side. And each declared that God was on their side. Which leaves You Know Who as prime supporter of the enemy. This theory is no more valid than the one that a single man can lead a country into war, followed by the inference that a well-timed assassination can save the peace.”
“That doesn’t sound too unreasonable,” Costa said.
“Of course not. All of the old ideas sound good. They have a simple-minded simplicity that anyone can understand. That doesn’t make them true. Kill a war-minded dictator and nothing changes. The violence-orientated society, the factors that produced it, the military party that represents it—none of these are changed. The k-factor remains the same.”
“There’s that word again. Do I get a definition yet?”
Neel smiled. “Of course. The k-factor is one of the many factors that interrelate in a society. Abstractly it is no more important than the other odd thousand we work with. But in practice it is the only one we try to alter.”
“The k-factor is the war factor,” Adao Costa said. All the humor was gone now.
“That’s a good enough name for it,” Neel said, grinding out his half-smoked cigarette. “If a society has a positive k-factor, even a slight one that stays positive, then you are going to have a war. Our planetary operators have two jobs. First to gather and interpret data. Secondly to keep the k-factor negative.”
They were both on their feet now, moved by the same emotion.
“And Himmel has a positive one that stays positive,” Costa said. Neel Sidorak
* * * * *
“Stop!” Costa said, raising his hand. “I was with you as far as the 3L’s. What are they? A private code?”
“Not a code—abbreviation. Linear Logic Language, the pitfall of all the old researchers. All of them, historians, sociologists, political analysts, anthropologists, were licked before they started. They had to know all about A and B before they could find C. Facts to them were always hooked up in a series. Whereas in truth they had to be analyzed as a complex circuit complete with elements like positive and negative feedback, and crossover switching. With the whole thing being stirred up constantly by continual homeostasis correction. It’s little wonder they did do badly.”
“You can’t really say that,” Adao Costa protested. “I’ll admit that Societics has carried the art tremendously far ahead. But there were many basics that had already been discovered.”
“If you are postulating a linear progression from the old social sciences—forget it,” Neel said. “There is the same relationship here that alchemy holds to physics. The old boys with their frog guts and awful offal knew a bit about things like distilling and smelting. But there was no real order to their knowledge, and it was all an unconsidered by-product of their single goal, the whole nonsense of transmutation.”
They passed a lounge, and Adao waved Neel in after him, dropping into a chair. He rummaged through his pockets for a cigarette, organizing his thoughts. “I’m still with you,” he said. “But how do we work this back to the k-factor?”
“Simple,” Neel told him. “Once you’ve gotten rid of the 3L’s and their false conclusions. Remember that politics in the old days was all We are angels and They are devils. This was literally believed. In the history of mankind there has yet to be a war that wasn’t backed by the official clergy on each side. And each declared that God was on their side. Which leaves You Know Who as prime supporter of the enemy. This theory is no more valid than the one that a single man can lead a country into war, followed by the inference that a well-timed assassination can save the peace.”
“That doesn’t sound too unreasonable,” Costa said.
“Of course not. All of the old ideas sound good. They have a simple-minded simplicity that anyone can understand. That doesn’t make them true. Kill a war-minded dictator and nothing changes. The violence-orientated society, the factors that produced it, the military party that represents it—none of these are changed. The k-factor remains the same.”
“There’s that word again. Do I get a definition yet?”
Neel smiled. “Of course. The k-factor is one of the many factors that interrelate in a society. Abstractly it is no more important than the other odd thousand we work with. But in practice it is the only one we try to alter.”
“The k-factor is the war factor,” Adao Costa said. All the humor was gone now.
“That’s a good enough name for it,” Neel said, grinding out his half-smoked cigarette. “If a society has a positive k-factor, even a slight one that stays positive, then you are going to have a war. Our planetary operators have two jobs. First to gather and interpret data. Secondly to keep the k-factor negative.”
They were both on their feet now, moved by the same emotion.
“And Himmel has a positive one that stays positive,” Costa said. Neel Sidorak
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