‘But, have you not noticed how some men regard people who wish to trust others as ‘stupid’? You often hear it. They are astonished that their fellow man doesn’t see the world as the competitive, unforgiving place that they do and they think him foolish for not doing so. Not only foolish, but weak. Well, didn’t we see just this with Lord Dunbeath when you first played the Dilemma with him?’
‘Yes, indeed Sophie, and one sees this constantly being repeated in life,’ replied Hume.
‘Then think back to the time of the Roman Empire, Mr Hume, particularly about how the Roman government would have behaved in small and unruly provinces like Judea. Their society was wholly structured with rules and laws, hierarchies, competition, suppression. A society in which there was no trust or individual thought. Only laws. Where the word of law was truth. A society of hawks, in other words.
‘And suddenly a man was attracting huge crowds and saying that none of this mattered. That only love and trust did. As I say, a man who seemed to understand the great lessons the Dilemma is showing us. He talked of the power of co-operation and the death of defection. And thousands were inspired. His vision saw the end of winners and losers. It was a vision in which everybody, regardless of who they were, could win.
‘Can you imagine how terrifying he was to the Romans and to everything they stood for? Their whole authority depended on them being seen as ruthless defectors. No wonder he had to be obliterated.’
* * *
In his study at Craigleven, L’Arquen lounged back in a chair, his feet crossed on the surface of his beautiful desk. A decanter of whisky was close by and he held an empty glass in his hand. It was plain that his poise had slipped. He stared blankly into the distance, his lips tight and a bitter, brooding look in his eye. Fruitless days had been spent scouring the vast openness of the Caithness landscape for rebels, and in his frustration his thoughts had now turned back to that arrogant and obnoxious man, Dunbeath. Perhaps he was the ringleader of this whole thing? Why not? Certainly he was the power around here. And he had so blatantly lied to him about that beautiful girl – of that he was quite certain. Yet again L’Arquen thought about Sophie – the few seconds he’d seen her had been enough for her image to crowd in on him. Not only lied, but the bastard had had the impertinence to shout at him, a colonel in His Majesty’s army.
He came to a decision and sat up. He yelled at the closed door.
‘Guard! Get Major Sharrocks in here. Now!’
* * *
‘I must admit,’ continued Sophie, ‘that I never understood why the Lord said that the meek would inherit the earth. It seemed so preposterous to me that I often wondered if it wasn’t an error of translation. But now I think I understand.
‘It’s because the strong would naturally think of themselves as winners that they’d always ignore the meek. Their own ambition and greed would lead them to compete with each other rather than bother with people they’d regard as not worthy of their attention or who had nothing that they would want to take. Do they not sound like hawks to you, like defectors? Isn’t it because these people have such an unshakable regard for themselves that they place a higher value on their endeavours than the meek do? They think far more highly of themselves.’
Sophie set her papers down alongside her on the sofa and stood up. Hume could see that she was continuing to think through her conclusions.
‘But the meek will co-operate,’ she continued. ‘Haven’t you noticed how it’s always the same people, often those with the least, who are the most generous? Their instinct is to share, to co-operate and by doing so, to build. The bonds that unite them are stronger than the bonds of fear and suspicion that unite those who rely only on laws and rules – people who carefully weigh and measure each exchange they ever make.
‘The proof of the fallibility of laws for me is the existence of lawyers. What are lawyers except guardians of the intricate exchanges that defectors weave? There are no lawyers in Always Co-operate or even with those who would play co-operate until they’re led by their Tit for Tat strategy to defect in return. It’s because there’s no need for them. In fact, I seem to remember that St Paul wrote something about this. Wasn’t it that the law brought about wrath? And that where there was no law, there was no violation? Just so, co-operators are the ones who stay silent and get three points not those who distrust and only get one. I had always assumed that by meek the Lord meant oppressed, downtrodden, poor. But, see that he uses none of these words. He says meek – an attitude of mind, not a state of affairs.’
David Hume smiled yet again as she spoke. He adored her more than ever when she was in full flood like this.
‘I like that very much, Sophie. Where does this lead you?’
‘Well, to a further conclusion, Mr Hume. Isn’t it an inescapable observation that tormenters ultimately always lose? It is because in the end nobody wants to deal with them. They take too much, always insisting on having five points, thinking it is their right. In the same way, I believe this is why tyrannies must fail. In fact, the more authoritarian they are, the quicker they will fall. It must be because a society that’s built on the assumption of hierarchy and a rigid measurement of exchange – where exchanges are expected by return and in the exact amount of the deed – will always be vulnerable to being eaten away from the inside by any act of sacrifice or altruism. Or, indeed, long term trust. Fear makes for a poor soil and the roots of a lasting society will never thrive in it.
‘The meek, however, don’t “keep the score.” Their faith is in the goodness of other people. Their belief is that that virtue will always, ultimately, be reciprocated. They trust until proven wrong. Some of them may eventually fight back against hawks, like your retaliator doves, but their instinct is always to form continuous, unbroken three point relationships – in spite of the repeated evidence of free riders and other exploiters. If this were not true, how could they ever survive?’
‘I think you must be right, Sophie,’ muttered Hume, carefully thinking through what she was saying. ‘Like you, I couldn’t see how the doves could ever win until we imagined a sprinkling of retaliators amongst them taking advantage of the depleted and weakened hawks. To use your picture of the ancient world, didn’t the Roman empire collapse to the co-operation message of Christianity, in spite of their laws and hierarchies? It’s widely believed that it was the barbarians who led to the fall of Rome but by then the empire had converted. And the barbarians? Of course they converted also in time, their ferocity tamed by the new co-operators. And I think that sometimes a co-operator can appear to lose but still win.’
He looked about himself as if trying to remember something and then waved over towards where a large tapestry hung on the wall.
‘Why, there is the very story I was looking for. King Solomon and the two women. Do you remember the tale? Both of them claimed that a baby was theirs and appealed to the king to decide between them. The king ordered that the child should be cut in half so they could share it. Then the truth emerged. It was the love of the real mother that made her agree to let the lying woman have the baby rather than see it killed. She immediately wanted the baby to survive, even if it meant her losing the child. The wise king knew at once that the woman who chose to get no points was the one who should get five.’
‘Mr Hume explains the bible,’ said Sophie with a laugh. ‘Wherever will the Dilemma take us next!’
David Hume gave her an affectionate smile.
‘But Sophie,’ he continued after a short pause, ‘the most remarkable conclusion that comes through your interrogation of the game is that it’s the same selfish, self-interested instinct for survival in us that makes us defect in the one-time Prisoner’s Dilemma yet leads us to co-operate in long term relationships. Because? Because it is rational to be selfish. Quite simply, it is the way to win. Perhaps we see it everywhere? My friend John Brown, the great physician in Edinburgh that I believe I have mentioned to you before, told me recently that he and his colleagues constantly saw example
s of our very particles fighting for supremacy within our bodies. You would have thought that they would all work towards our wellbeing but apparently they do not. In fact, did we not see that with Lord Dunbeath’s fever? What was the heat in him except his very particles at war? And Brown astonished me even further by saying that the anatomy schools found examples of children, yet unborn, whose organs had taken nourishment from their sick mothers, even though they were sucking the very life out of them. To the point that the mother died. Yes, you are right to appear surprised, Sophie. I was myself. An unborn child killing its own mother in the struggle to survive. We think it’s our minds that make us selfish but it’s plainly far deeper than that – our very particles are selfish. All nature is selfish. This is the universal truth – everything, every living thing, is putting itself first.’
Sophie looked sadly away. She thought for a second and then murmured more to herself than to Hume.
‘I hope you and your medical friends are wrong. Perhaps the mother’s particles were sacrificing themselves so that her child might live?’
* * *
There was a knock on the door and L’Arquen pulled himself together. The decanter and glass had been put out of sight. Major Sharrocks came into the room.
‘Ah, good, you’re here at last, Sharrocks. I have been thinking about that Dunbeath creature. The liar. He is the kind of Scot that you called the enemy within, the enemy of the Union. You were never more right than when you said that. We chase around looking for invisible highlanders while their clan chiefs sit in their castles, making their plans. And what plans are these? Why, to support a man who thinks he should reign instead of our rightful king. We don’t know yet that Dunbeath has sided with the uprising – but I’m quite certain that he’s lied to me. I have to conclude, therefore, that it is his intention to support this Bonnie Prince Charlie. I’ve decided not to wait any longer, Sharrocks. I’ve decided to crush him before he can crush us. Update me now, what is your latest information on the matter?’
‘Well, sir, I withdrew surveillance about a week ago as you ordered but not before one of my men reported that the fellow we saw sitting on the dune had given up his staring at the castle. He was last seen fighting with one of the fishermen and knocking him to the ground.’
‘Fighting eh? I wonder what that was about. Still, where there’s a fight, you’ll generally find resentment in the loser. Apply some pressure there. See the fisherman and ask him what he’s got to say. Let me see some action. Action, Sharrocks, action! I’m unhappy with your lack of initiative. Get on with it. Use your imagination, major, and quickly – or you may find me using mine on you.’
Chapter 21
‘Mr Smith! Mr Smith!’
The enormous outline of his landlady stood in Adam Smith’s doorway, her great bulk blocking out the light as she stood shouting at him. A maid hid behind her, peering at Smith over her mistress’s shoulder. For the third time, the woman took a deep breath and drew herself up, the better to bellow.
‘Mr Smith! If you do not calm yourself I shall call for the doctor.’
At last Smith seemed to notice that someone was in his room. He stopped his roaming and stared at the floor, shaking slightly as a racehorse might after a spirited sprint.
‘What? What is it?’
‘What is it, sir? Why it is you, sir! You have marched about the room these past two hours, quaking as if for a fit, shouting your nonsense into the air. Are you not aware of what you do, Mr Smith? Much more of this and I shall have to give you notice. I have other tenants to think on you know. Why sir, are you ill?’
Adam Smith continued to be rooted to the spot. He didn’t lift his eyes.
‘I am quite well, I thank you. I am simply giving voice to the debates that I conduct in my head. Who else am I to speak to? I am quite able to hold both sides of an argument and I wish to hear them out. So, I am loud. So, no doubt you think me insane. Well, I do not think this makes the debate any the less.’
He began to calm down and now looked up and smiled at the vastness in his doorway.
‘Still, I apologise. You are too good to me, madam. I thank you.’
One smile was enough. The landlady melted. She beamed back at him and gently closed the door. Smith remained still for a moment and then seemed to come out of his daze. He smiled again, this time to himself, and leant down to the floor and picked up David Hume’s letter from where it had fallen from his fingers.
* * *
Makepeace had found the Observatory surprisingly easily on the hill at Greenwich and was directed into the presence of the Astronomer Royal as soon as his assistant was told on whose errand he had come. James Bradley now tore open Dunbeath’s letter and read it twice. He then urgently began to pick up some papers.
‘By God, your master has run it close this time,’ he said to Makepeace. ‘The meeting is tomorrow morning. We never thought he would come. I must see him immediately and decide if he should show the Board his work.’
They went immediately to Dunbeath’s carriage and Makepeace soon had his team at a warm canter for the drive back to St James’s. Bradley had for some months doubted whether the earl was keeping up with the field in the race to find a solution to the problems of longitude but he was not to be disappointed now and it was only two hours later that he was leaning back in his chair at Urquhain House with a look of blank astonishment on his face.
‘Lord Dunbeath, I cannot believe that you have completed the celestial mapping that we started so many years ago. It is hardly credible. I have no words to express my congratulations. We have reached many of the same conclusions in London that you have here, but you have gone so much further in finding practical solutions to the problems that have dogged us. And your work on the Transit of Venus at such a high latitude as the north of Scotland is absolutely critical to the solution.’
‘There has been much heartache over the years, Mr Bradley, and many a wrong turn,’ replied Dunbeath. ‘The fieldwork was the least of it. Of course, it took much time but I was under water in my conclusions for many a long month until I met a German collaborator recently who was the key to completing the work. My collaborator was a woman. Yes, I can see that you’re surprised at that information, but her extraordinary insights showed me the way when I was lost. More even than that, she has perfected a method of calculation that will allow the time needed to make a determination of longitude for an experienced navigator come down from four hours to just over two. Let me show you her method.’
It was a further hour before the Astronomer Royal looked up from Dunbeath’s explanations and spoke to him again with renewed admiration.
‘Well, this is brilliant work, Lord Dunbeath. I feel quite certain that the Board will agree. And unless the king continues to interfere, I would trust that the Prize is won by celestial navigation – by you – when we see the Board tomorrow, and not by that pox-ridden machinery of Mr Harrison’s.’
‘What!’ shouted Dunbeath incredulously, flying off his chair in alarm. ‘Has that Yorkshire fraud still not been exposed for the total charlatan that he is? Why, he’s just a damned carpenter, nothing more.’
James Bradley looked unhappily down at the carpet.
‘I see that news of Mr Harrison’s technical developments have not reached you in Scotland, Lord Dunbeath. Harrison is now claiming that he has perfected a clock that he says will prove to be accurate on sea voyages to an almost uncanny degree. Of course, we’ve done everything in our power at the Observatory to find fault with it and indeed the Board of Longitude is as one with us on this, but I fear …’
‘You fear what?’ said Dunbeath fiercely, his colour rising. ‘What is it?’
‘Well, it is the king. It seems that Mr Harrison appealed to Viscount Rothley for help and through him he was able to gain an audience with His Majesty. God knows what passed between them but it is said that the king believes Mr Harrison has been treated unfairly by us. Can you credit it? Just because he has not liked the tests we have set for him these pa
st fifteen years and has complained and quibbled at every turn. He says we have refused him funding, but why should we use our precious resources – resources that were voted for us by Parliament for celestial navigation – on such an absurd venture as his?’
Dunbeath had jumped to his feet in anger and he now began to stalk around the room, his arms stabbing the air.
‘A clock! A clock!’ he kept repeating. ‘I’ve worked for twelve years measuring these lunar distances. And other men have slaved over them in other places for even longer than I have. The sacrifices we’ve made! And now I find a damned clock is to be in the same room as me. And being given consideration by the Board of Longitude!’
Zweig had been sitting quietly, listening to the two men’s discussion. He now assessed the situation and saw how easily all could be lost by Dunbeath’s temper. He rose from where he was sitting on a sofa and stood in front of the earl’s furiously striding figure, forcing him to come to a standstill. He fixed him with an unblinking look.
‘Lord Dunbeath,’ he said, ‘we shall have need of your fervour and energy tomorrow but you are among friends this evening. Let me put a proposal to you. If you are happy to do so you may call on me as a seaman to say that I know of no other nation, and certainly not the German empire, that would ever countenance trusting our fleets to something so prone to break down as a clock.
‘The heavens do not break, they do not disappoint or confuse. We fleet owners and captains have been trained to rely on the planets for generations and we would not change our view for a collection of wheels and springs. Anyone who would say differently has not been to sea. If you wish me to, I shall say this to your Board and to any others there may be in the room. No doubt it will be full of landsmen with not a true sailor among them.’
Dunbeath stopped and looked at Zweig with admiration and gratitude.
‘Would you? Would you do this for me, Captain Zweig? It would mean a great deal to me and to Mr Bradley if you would give the Board your professional views. Its members would be much influenced by the opinion of a foreign expert. Britain’s world trade depends on winning the race for a universal solution and if you put doubt in their minds about the clock it would play strongly on them when they come to make a decision.’
The Prisoner's Dilemma Page 25
