Another tall tale from the wine bar philosophy group at the Withered Grape,
reported by Ian McLaren

 

Long ago and far away, there was a small kingdom, ruled by a petty king. He loved making rules for the sake of it. This king employed a number of large, hairy men, with large, hairy dogs, to enforce his rules. And so they were kept, if any of the large, hairy men, or large, hairy dogs, were watching.

This little kingdom had just one well for public use, which was always full, and sometimes overflowed in rainy weather. One of the rules was that the people might only draw water from the well between six and seven in the evening. The rule did not apply to the royal palace, of course: the king had his own supply twenty-four hours a day. In order to pay for the large, hairy men and their large, hairy dogs, the people had to pay a high tax for each bucket of water.

Of course, there wasn’t enough time for everyone to draw their water and pay their tax during that hour, so there were often rowdy scenes when the large, hairy men closed the well for the night. And since there was a shortage of water, and some people couldn’t afford to pay the tax, the rules were broken. Some bent the rules, and dug their own wells, although the water did not taste as good. Others were business minded. They built wheelbarrows, painted them white, loaded them with buckets, and fetched water from a neighbouring kingdom to the south, with ever-open wells and low taxes. They could sell the water cheaper than paying the tax, and give themselves a profit. Others waited until the large, hairy men had gone home, and secretly reopened the well, or bribed the large, hairy men to open the well for them. And the king knew, and grieved that his rule was being broken, but he could not afford any more large, hairy men to enforce his rule, nor was he prepared to change it.

Eventually, the petty king died, and his son came to the throne, announcing that he wished to sweep away many of his father’s rules. “Free the well”, he decreed. But his advisors were horrified. “Think of the noise”, they cried, “if people insist on going to the well at night.” “They are bound to abuse it.” “You cannot afford to have large, hairy men, or even their large, hairy dogs, standing around all day waiting to collect the tax.” “Think of the time people will waste just hanging around the well and chatting.” “And what will they do with all that water?”

“Just look out”, said the new king. “Our neighbours to the north open their well much longer than we do, and they have no more riot and turmoil than we do. Our neighbours to the south do not abuse their well. The duty on water is low, but they tax the people who sell it in fancy glasses.”

But the counsellors retorted: “To change the rule shows weakness. Society will be destabilised. You will lose respect and control. And the large, hairy men and their large, hairy dogs will be displeased, and they may turn on you.”

So, in memory of his illustrious father, the new king made a new rule. The well could open longer if everyone agreed and paid extra taxes. And the votes were cast by the king and his council; the peasants with their own wells and the traders with white wheelbarrows; and the large, hairy men and their large, hairy dogs (who voted by proxy). And the old rule stayed, until….

January 2007