*
Franz and I were sitting in the edit booth, watching the Hendersons sequence carefully. I thought it was a fine piece of work and I was reluctant to change a single shot. Franz backed me completely, but he had to be absolutely sure he could un-justify every part of it. It had to be the most incendiary sequence we'd ever submitted.
The plan was far too elaborate for anyone on the show to have cooked up though. The orders had come down from network HQ. God knows how long they’d been planning it. Maybe from the beginning of the reformation.
Everything that was pre-edited (i.e. not live) had to be submitted to the governmental media department. It was a traditional thing. The same way the King was officially supposed to approve each law. If he actually tried to block something, it would be an outrage. Likewise, if the Government tried to censor something in one of our shows, it was a breach of the Kole Treaty.
The Hendersons sequence was a graphic depiction of how Phase Two actually worked. Bad for both powers. If the government were exposed for having approved of our methods, they’d be in just as much trouble as us. So they’d tell us to cut it. The network would politely agree and not cause a fuss, then start broadcasting the after-care sequences in a much tamer form. We’d make Gillan look like a saint. Then, when his approval ratings were through the roof, we would announce our political intentions.
It was a very risky game because the network didn’t want the public to see the Hendersons sequence either. So it was actually crucial that the government told us to cut it. If they gave it the all-clear, we weren’t legally allowed to tamper with it afterwards. We’d be forced to broadcast the whole thing. So it had to be controversial to a politician’s eye… but appear completely innocent to a member of the public, just in case they ended up seeing it.
If we miscalculated one frame, the whole plan would go up in smoke. Controversial to most people meant swearing, sex, violence, discrimination or drugs. They were old hat though and too obviously ‘offensive’. If the government told us to cut something like that, they'd actually get support from the public. “Well of course they told you to cut it, it’s horrible!”
It had to be something that wouldn’t be seen as controversial unless you fully understood the implications. Enter the Hendersons.
They'd been married at 21, two months after meeting each other. Totally illegal of course, so I don’t know why they’d been stupid enough to phone the show. I guess they had nowhere else to turn.
Generally, we grouped troubled marriages into one of three categories: trippers, cheaters and snappers. The trippers were the ones who’d gotten onto booze or drugs. They were always put into Phase Two with Gillan. Electrotherapy and cold turkey. Hard-hitting TV.
Cheaters were a bit more difficult to deal with. We had to reinforce the message that cheating was illegal (punishable by up to Phase Three) but ignore the fact that it was a law we were naturally inclined to break. Any time a person said ‘I don’t know what came over me’, ‘I was horny’, or ‘I don’t know why I did it’ we bleeped it just to be safe. It implied that having sex with people was a primal urge. And that implied that the law was unreasonable.
The Hendersons had been snappers. Constant arguing. Both convinced that their opinion was correct simply because it was theirs. Cheating and tripping you could feel sorry for. But snappers were just dumb. None of that upbringing or genetics crap. No one cared.
Ultimately, some people are childish and some aren’t. Not rocket science and a whole lot more practical than liberalism.
“Well you told me that you never seen 'er cos…”
“No I never!”
“Yes you did and you know you did so don’t say you didn’t!”
“I never said that!”
“You’re a liar!”
“How am I lying?”
“You’ve been lying since you came in here.”
“When? When have I lied?”
“You turned round to me the other day and said you’d never spoke to 'er and I find out from my sister that you ‘ad when you was with ‘er!”
“She said that cos you was givin’ me grief!”
“How was I?”
And then in came Gillan.
“We’re going to teach you how to debate in a structured and productive way. You’ll learn valuable skills to help you argue properly so that when you’ve left the show, you’ll be able to settle quarrels on your own.” The voiceover explained the rest.
“The Hendersons are each going to be sealed in a dark room with a pane of glass between them. They’ll be able to see each other’s rooms but only when the lights are on. The glass is soundproof so if they want to communicate, they have to use the headphones and mics we’ve provided. But the minute they argue poorly, the microphone, headphones and lights will be turned off. Only when they learn to communicate properly, will they be allowed to communicate uninterrupted.”
Gillan then explained the rules of ‘good arguing’ while they were printed on the screen. Some of the rules were obvious like ‘responding to a criticism with a counter-criticism is forbidden’ and ‘apologising, but then going on to defend the behaviour anyway is forbidden’. But some of the rules were a bit more unexpected, things like: ‘Explaining matters of principle must be done without the words I, me, my, you, your, us, they or them’. It was difficult to understand why Gillan had introduced all of them, but we actually found that when they were enforced, the bickering stopped. Arguments became debates.
After the Hendersons had heard the rules there was a brilliant section where they tried to bicker normally but kept having the lights turned off and their audio removed. The night vision cameras picked up the looks of shock on their faces and the instructors would then explain which rule they'd broken. Getting indignant with the instructors would result in warnings on the first two instances and Phase Three on the third instance.
Gillan’s voiceover guided the viewer through this whole chunk and it really worked. Franz thought that if the sequence aired, children would start playing it as a game in playgrounds. Learning to debate at a young age. If things took a certain turn, it might even become one of “Jezza's laws”.
Once the Hendersons had realised that hurling abuse at each other and making constant accusations was getting them nowhere, they calmed down, stopped shouting and actually listened. Within ninety minutes, Mr. Henderson was crying and begging Mrs. Henderson’s forgiveness. She began crying too and gave it.
The voiceover then explained that they had to spend a month communicating like this before going for a 'trial week'. If, during that, they broke any rule, they would have to start the whole scheme again.
The Hendersons failed the first time. They learnt the laws, but they didn’t instinctively feel them. And this was where the controversy began and ended. It wasn’t a matter of knowing certain things in theory; the rules had to be engrained onto them, so that they’d do it without thinking. The second time round they got it perfectly.
Was it behavioural conditioning? Yes. Was it brainwashing? Yes. But did it get results? My God yes! The figures had always been undeniable. Of the couples who got to the end (i.e. without divorcing), a staggering 99.3% reported that their marriage was either back on track, or better than before.
The debates were obvious. Was social conditioning still wrong if it made society better? Did people have a right to make choices, if they would always make the wrong ones? Could you punish people into 'thinking better'?
If the network ended up having to air it, the British public would mistake it for a game show. They might even think it was a good idea. But any politician would recognise it for what it was. They, as a government, had endorsed neural programming. They had to make us cut it.