Free Thought Crimes by Tim Richards Page B

career goodbye. Ninety-five per cent of research activity relating to a subject’s life masks its true purpose.
    Once you accept that it’s all a complex game of ruse and masquerade, you can begin to take responsibility for shaping your own understanding.
    The letter went into the bin, and would pass un-noted in Sam’s journal. This conspicuous absence should serve to remind the researchers that they needed Mr Placebo much more than he needed them.

    All of us have the experience of thoughts slipping our minds before we have the chance to articulate them. We think little of this phenomenon, though we expect it to occur with greater frequency as we grow older.
    Experimental subjects can’t be so relaxed about these losses. On Pandora’s Box you’ll find the one-word label ‘Forgetting’. To even consider what it might mean to open that box can send imaginative participants loopy.
    The fear that he was forgetting something, or might have already forgotten things he needed to recall, spooked Sam. Fear, forgetting, and fear of forgetting were synonymous in Sam’s mind. Forgetting was the one side-effect that couldn’t be countenanced. Experience tells you to resist all thought of forgetting, to avoid the temptation to dwell on thoughts of the memories that might be essential to your personal integrity, or thoughts about whether the things you actually recall might be the least essential. If you ever let yourself accept that you were forgetting something crucial, you were finished.

    Though Sam’s warm feelings towards the R.K. Howarth Building were partly derived from his pleasure at receiving regular cheques from the Institute, he still believed the building had a maternal personality. He was frustrated by the idea that he might once have known the name of the building’s architect, that his sense of a female architect stemmed from factual knowledge he could no longer access. The female Sam had in mind was a friendly old woman, a woman rather like the smiling Coat at the Payments desk.
    While hand-drafting Sam’s pay-cheque, the clerk noted the increase in Sam’s authorisation, and remarked how well he looked. He told her that he’d never felt better.
    Discretion prevented him from saying that the Suits and Jackets were doing everything they could to convince him that he wasn’t Mr Placebo. No chance.
    Once you’ve chosen to believe that you’re on the other side of the study, you have to stick firm. You’re going to be Mr Placebo every time because no one does it better. Be sure to let nothing or no one undermine this confidence. Otherwise, your imagination runs crazy.

Email from: Astrid Mirch, Marginal Films
To: Dr Magnus Verde, CEO, Axcel International
    I’m puzzled by your decision to deny availability to Axcel’s film and photographic archive. Since the technologies being investigated are now, effectively, public domain, you should expect that public to be cynical about appeals to commercial confidentiality.
    Though it’s our wish to remain open-minded with regard to the efficacy and conduct of your researches, obstructive behaviour will, inevitably, have implications when forming a narrative viewpoint. While you stress that your organisation has nothing to hide, your actions could hardly be more hostile to the notion of full disclosure.
    Marielle Hunsbrugger in your Sydney office has threatened legal action if we reproduce private/‘unauthorised’ images of Axcel’s experimental subjects. I can only repeat my previous view that such measures will be counter-productive re. public confidence in your operations, and I implore you to follow the (more sensible) path of candour.
    Yours,
Astrid Mirch
    Dana: We became a wealthy nation because we got smart. That meant learning to do things ahead of the pack and selling that knowledge. Knowledge economies have to take risks … Staying alive means taking risks.
    Ed: The Axcel reps