Leaping out

Imagine a group of passengers resolved to leave a plane mid-flight. They might have had valid reasons to do so. Following a long, protracted argument, they decided, democratically, to jump. The ‘jumpers’ narrowly beat the ‘stayers’ in a vote.

There was the small issue of procuring parachutes. But not to worry: before the vote the ‘jumpers’ loudly insisted this would be a cakewalk. Easiest thing in history. The ‘stayers’ pointed out that finding parachutes was not straightforward — and not finding them would have to mean jumping anyway, in accordance with the vote. The ‘jumpers’ told them not to be silly: of course parachutes would be found. How could it be otherwise? A small hardline group did in fact hate the plane so much they were prepared, indeed preferred to, to leap out no matter what. But they were not taken seriously.

But after the vote, having got the result they wanted, many of the ‘jumpers’ changed their tune. Suddenly, parachutes were no longer paramount. Claims the ‘jumpers’ had themselves had dismissed as alarmist lies were now held to be the solemn truth, ‘something everyone knew when they voted’. They would shout ‘jump means jump’ in response to any argument.

This was all the more relevant as it eventually turned out the parachutes were not forthcoming. An elderly lady in blue did produce a batch from the local air history museum. These came with strings attached and could easily, it was believed, get tangled in the engines. This meant you ended up going with the plane still, but dangling along outside. Not the most appealing of prospects, and the two sides briefly united to reject this.

The stayers suggested that, rather than acting like lemmings, the issue should perhaps be reconsidered through a second vote. ‘After all’, they pleaded, ‘if you are right and we really did vote to jump off without parachutes then you should win such a vote easily’. But they urged in vain that the situation had changed: even though many of the more reasonable ‘jumpers’ have changed their mind, the loudest would not listen. ‘We decided to jump no matter what and jump we shall’ was their cry. ‘There cannot be another vote before the first one has been implemented’.

They further blamed the pilots for not offering better parachutes. True: the pilots possessed an ample supply, yet had no interest in giving them up. ‘We have many other passengers, and we want to show them that abandoning ship is not in their interest’ they said. ‘Besides, we have rules and regulations some of you wish to ignore: ones you signed up to when you got on board. You cannot follow your self-interest and expect us to not follow ours. Nothing personal, just business.’

It did not go unnoticed that some of the more vociferous jumpers did have parachutes — the one called Boris had a nice expensive one that he kept hidden. Furthermore, the one called Nigel had a ticket for the German section of the plane. This was odd, as Boris and Nigel were the loudest and most obnoxious in calling for everyone to jump. But the jumpers got even angrier when this was pointed out! Spittle flying, they shouted how there was a plot to thwart ‘the will of the people’! Often, they simply turned to crying ‘jump is good, stay is bad’, non-stop, at the top of their voices.

Unfortunately, the ‘stayers’ kept arguing between each other. Rather than unite and take the ‘jumpers’ on, they split into little factions: several of these factions promoted the idea of a second vote, some others wished to keep negotiating, perhaps offering more concessions to get those much needed parachutes. The jumpers were however united: they by now treated the whole thing as a football fan whose team won yet didn’t get the three points. ‘We won and you lost’ they raged, oblivious to the whole plane trying (and mostly failing) to keep a straight face. ‘You are just trying to impose your views on us and we will not have it, we are defending democracy’.

Yet the facts were staring them in the face. Their past quotes on the parachute issue were public knowledge. So, the ‘jumpers’ embarked on yet more misdirection: they were now ‘the people’ and the ‘stayers’ were ‘the elite’, denying out of devious spite their right to make the whole group jump off a plane without parachutes. Or they were being ‘lectured to’ and ‘patronised’, told they did not understand what they voted for. They demanded to be ‘understood’ and ‘listened to’ whilst denying the same to the ‘stayers’. They went on, denouncing enemies, traitors and betrayals until they went hoarse with shouting.

This story has two possible endings. One is a repeat vote, with everybody knowing firmly what is at stake. This would be fair and democratic. Or, everyone leaps off. This being a parable, most would survive. They might even thrive — eventually. That does not change the simple fact that this is not what was originally promised.