I’ve spent years writing about the intersection of technology, culture, and policy. When social media is increasingly used to create events, rather than report on them, I find that work increasingly relevant.
It is one thing to write an essay here or a newsletter there. Given the potential harms, utilizing adding additional forms, like narrative, seems warranted. Hurricane David is a corporate-gothic tech tragedy set in a near future Florida Archipelago. This post-truth fable traces the edges of where reality can be manufactured - and what happens when the natural order reasserts itself.
For more on the story’s background, the companion soundtrack, and more check out the appropriate section on my Stories page.
~Matthew
The Fable
“A thrush was feeding on a myrtle-tree and did not move from it because its berries were so delicious. A Fowler observed her staying so long in one spot, and having well bird-limed his reeds, caught her. The Thrush, being at the point of death, exclaimed, ‘O foolish creature that I am! For the sake of a little pleasant food I have deprived myself of my life.’” - “The Thrush and the Fowler”, Aesop’s Fables, trans. George Fyler Townsend (1887)
Scene 1 - All Hands
“Truth is a managed resource, and I am its steward.”
The pledge to start the monthly all-hands droned through the atrium. It reminded David of the omnipresent air conditioning: steady, automatic, and operating at low-energy. The audience was already sneaking glances at whatever might be more of a dopamine draw before they were seated.
The agenda was the usual polite clapping for tenure milestones, process updates, and tepid pep-rally.
“…sentiment volatility down 12% year-over-year…”
The Bureau of Truth’s Director of Narrative Alignment, over-slick and as passable as HR clip-art come to life, was speaking. Jeter performatively moved about the stage, hitting his marks like he was giving a TED talk. He was saying something about the de-amplification campaign done for the Midwestern heat dome. But you’d be hard pressed to tell this campaign from the half-dozen others running at any given time.
“…localized anomalies successfully recontextualized as resilience narratives…”
For Maya, Chris, and David, seated toward the back, it couldn’t be more rote. Maya, who was already vested, must have endured dozens of these meetings. David tried to match her detached aloofness, her effortless indifference, and was failing horribly.
He flicked his smart watch. A chicklet blinked to life, replaced the idle screen. “94% vested” shone in bright letters.
Six more points and the waterfront would be his. No more commute from inland, no more landlord, no more roommates. He would have his very own house in the Florida Archipelago. The daydream was so vivid he nearly missed the next part of the presentation.
“…and as we say goodbye to our team headed to the new, New Orleans office, we have some new roles available for the right kind of energetic, enthusiastic game changers…”
David nudged Chris. “Wait, what’s happening?”
Chris shrugged. “Sounds like some analyst positions are opening up.”
“Really? How quickly do they vest?”
Maya chewed her gum for a beat and regarded them with mock disdain.
“Like it matters. They’d never let you sock puppet types anywhere near Alethia.”
“That’s not,” David said while leaning in and dramatically pausing, “what your mom said last night.”
Chris covered his mouth, squelching his sudden laugh into a coughing fit as best as he could.
The group drew Jeter’s glare. He paused for a second to make it clear he was looking their way, and then resumed his slide with slightly more volume.
“Before we break, I wanted to remind everyone that we’re entering our seasonal period of elevated rain triage. I know some of the old timers might have heard these referred to as ‘hurricanes’ or used the 1-5 scale of the Saffir-Simpson categories. Just remember, these are now considered terms of terror. Avoid using in your comms. If you have any questions, please consult the new intranet resource that we’ll link to in today’s recap email.
“Remember, ‘Panic is not a public good -‘”
David, in unison with the rest of the assembled employees, replied:
“Calm is contagious.”
“Thank you, and let’s keep calm out there.”
End Scene 1 - Check here for the next installment of Hurricane David.