Chapter 240: Sustainable Development (1)
Under a clear sky.
Today as well, Saint-Michel Street in Paris was crowded with countless people.
Most of them were university students, professors, and faculty staff.
People directly or indirectly connected to the Sorbonne University, which was practically the French equivalent of Seoul National University.
And in this place overflowing with people burning with scholarly fervor, there was one institution that had been carrying out the most active academic work of late.
It was the Faculty of Economics at Sorbonne University, newly established just a year earlier.
“Economics? You mean the economy can be turned into an academic discipline?”
“Should not learning, by its nature, be the standard-bearer guiding human emotion and reason? How could a thing like economics, which is nothing but number-play, move the human heart? I oppose it.”
“Economics! Fine then, but do you even have a professor to teach it? It is not even a properly established field yet.”
A year earlier, the usual objections that came with the creation of any new subject had naturally followed.
“Though there are certainly those who believe the word economy does not suit the word scholarship at present, I stake my own name on this: within fifty years, the word economy will become inseparable from the word scholarship.”
“Ahem. It is not that we distrust the Party Leader’s insight, but… would it not be extremely difficult to find an educator fit to teach such a discipline? We cannot exactly summon the late Adam Smith from distant Britain.”
“Is that so? If there is no professor yet, then I will take the role myself while I’m at it. Is that enough for you?”
“Oh my, if that is what the Party Leader thinks, then of course we must create it. Heh heh.”
When the current opposition leader stepped forward personally, who would dare stand in his way?
Those who had just moments ago been loudly opposing it for the sake of opposition alone all transformed into supporters.
How nice. Very nice.
“Well, that’s how it happened.”
With a nameplate in front of him that read [Invited Professor, Faculty of Economics, Sorbonne University — Maximilien de Robespierre], that familiar face lifted a cup of warmed milk to his lips.
“Would you like a cup?”
“No, thank you. Even so, your ability to get things done is still amazing, now as ever.”
“Could it really compare to yours, former Controller-General? It would be like flaunting wrinkles before a pupa.”
Me? I’m an extreeeemely safety-first, self-preservation kind of person. I hate stepping forward and doing things myself.
“But former Controller-General, what brings you here? I have a lecture soon.”
“It seems the life of a professor suits you fairly well?”
“One must fulfill the duty one has accepted. And there is a certain fun in watching those chicks who have only just become university students groan over the assignments I give them.”
So what brings you here?
Robespierre continued with a faint smile.
“There is a law I wish to create, and I wanted to discuss it with someone.”
“…You’re going into politics? Wait a moment. Which drawer did I put the party membership application form in?”
“I. Am not. Going into politics.”
“A joke. A joke.”
You old man… if you hear that kind of joke often enough, it starts sounding sincere.
Robespierre let out a short laugh, then returned to a serious expression.
“Hm. A discussion… judging from the fact that you did not know I had become a professor, I take it I was not the first person with whom you wished to have this ‘discussion.’
…Very well. What did Party Leader Sieyès say?”
“Wow. Sharp as ever.”
“For now, my principal profession is still that of politician rather than professor.”
As expected of someone born into crushing poverty and who passed the high civil service examination with nothing but his own body and mind, his head really worked fast.
Leaning toward Robespierre, I said,
“The name of the law is the Anti-Monopoly Act.”
“And the contents?”
“A bill to regulate wicked companies that disturb the market economy.”
“Hm.”
He stroked his chin for a moment, then asked me,
“The Anti-Monopoly Act. Regulation of companies. Please explain more specifically.”
“Max. What do you think a market is?”
Without waiting for his answer, I continued.
“In my personal view, a market is a place that creates infinite possibilities. It is the very starting point where new value is created and society is changed through endless competition and change for better goods and a better life.”
But at the same time, it is also a ruthless place.
“Just like any other duel, not everyone in the dueling ground called the market can emerge a winner.
If constant competition and change are necessary to the market, that also means participants who fail to change are eliminated.”
A duel in which everyone stakes their lives.
“And so, from time to time, there are those among them who choose a somewhat more ‘comfortable’ path.”
“A comfortable path.”
“Collusion, hostile takeovers and mergers, and in severe cases even physical harm. People who seek to gain a definite advantage in exchange for dirtying their hands a little.”
“……Hm.”
“In the distant East, there is a proverb. One loach muddies the whole water. Draw near black ink and even white paper turns black.”
“If one or two people who disturb the market begin to appear, then later the entire market becomes overrun with dirty tricks and schemes?”
“Of course. To put it bluntly, if there is no one to punish people for winning competition through foul means, then not doing it would be…”
“Not doing it would make you a fool. I understand perfectly.”
Robespierre once more stroked his chin with thoughtful eyes and spoke slowly.
“In The Wealth of Nations, Adam Smith said that all people act for their own benefit. I do not agree with that statement one hundred percent.
If even a mother’s maternal love or pity toward the poor are said to be actions performed for one’s own benefit, then the world becomes far too bleak.
And all the more so when I have before my eyes a living counterexample to that idea.”
Who? Me?
“Me?”
“Who else could there be? No matter how I think about it, I cannot believe your conduct in Versailles in the past was for your own benefit. What kind of merchant in this world crashes into the king twice? Most would flatter him instead.”
That was… because of the flow of the times, you know. The unavoidable current of history. It absolutely wasn’t because I was pissed off and slammed into him.
“I understand perfectly what worries you. Certainly, if those who gain an advantage through dishonest means are not kept in line, corruption will spring up like mushrooms after rain.”
“Exactly. Is it not the role of a night-watchman state to protect diligent and decent taxpayers?”
“If that is so, then how far should that role of the night-watchman state—and beyond that, the Anti-Monopoly Act—be able to exercise its power?”
Sharp. As expected of a lawyer who made a living grinding people down over legal clauses.
“If possible, it should be strong. Strong enough that they would never even dare try.”
“Why?”
“Think of water. Once ink is dissolved into it, turning it back into clean water again requires an enormous amount of process and effort.
One must make a fire, boil the water over it, and collect the separately evaporated moisture before it is finally purified.”
“So we cut off the head in one stroke. Then how do you intend to enforce it?”
“We could forcibly break up the company. Or convert it into a public enterprise, or put it up for auction. If not that, we could distribute shares to the company’s laborers so that the laborers could participate in the shareholders’ meeting and monitor the company.”
“…Former Controller-General, I ask this just in case.”
“What is it?”
“Are you perhaps a communist?”
“You fucking…”
You’re the communist! And it’s not me—the problem is that this damned age itself is insane!
“I am, to the marrow of my bones, a capitalist.”
“And yet what comes out of your mouth is no different from that of a hardline Mountain faction member. …Are you truly unwilling to join the party?”
“Yes, I am unwilling.”
“A pity. In any case, I will organize your meaning carefully. Please take care on your way out.”
“What? Why would I leave? You haven’t even drafted the preliminary clauses yet.”
If I leave, you might go and make another lunatic policy like a Maximum Price Law!
But whether I said that or not, Robespierre calmly replied,
“The enactment of laws is the authority of the legislature. Why is a person outside the government trying to interfere with the legislature’s exclusive authority?”
“No, but isn’t this practically the same as a proposal from me?”
“A proposal is a proposal, and an introduction is an introduction. Or are you displeased?
Then you should run in the next Controller-General election, win, and interfere with your authority as head of the executive branch. That would be something I look forward to.”
“Y-you…!”
Graaah.
He was disgustingly good at verbal sparring.
I lost. My opponent was the greatest mouth-fighter in history. A man who talked even the king’s head off—how was I supposed to beat him?
As I climbed into the car grumbling, Mr. Pétion asked gently,
“Sir, why do you look so miserable?”
“Robespierre pissed me off.”
After everything I’ve done for him! What a cold-hearted man.
“Haha. They do not call him the Incorruptible for nothing. Shall I take you back to headquarters now?”
“No. Let’s also pay a visit to the President of the National Assembly.”
“You mean President Brissot—Jacques Pierre Brissot.”
“If I’m going to win people over, I might as well simmer both sides and prevent possible risks in advance.”
As I said that, I sank deeper into the seat.
Jacques Pierre Brissot.
Leader of the Plain faction and current President of the National Assembly.
If Priest Sieyès was the head of the faction within the Plain made up of former clergy and nobles, then this man was the head of the faction made up of journalists and writers.
During his time as a journalist, they said he had received plenty of support from pro-revolution businessmen, so he was quite close with businessmen too. In other words, he was the kind of social butterfly who was friendly with everyone.
I had met him several times before, and the last time had been at Mirabeau’s funeral, so this was the first time I’d seen him in years.
“Hahaha! Why, what an honored guest! With such distinguished people visiting from the beginning of the year, my fortune must be excellent this year.”
Brissot, who looked like the killer from No Country for Old Men, held out his hand to me with a warm smile entirely unlike his face.
“Thank you for the welcome.”
“Come, come, please step inside. There are other guests waiting as well. Ho ho.”
“Oh, if there are other guests, then I seem to have come at the wrong time. I’ll return another day.”
“Haha, not at all. You will know some of the faces yourself. It is no inconvenience at all, so please come in and at least have a cup of tea.”
“Then I will shamelessly impose upon you for a short while.”
“Haha, a wise decision!”
Brissot tilted his head as if telling me to follow him and led the way to the reception room.
“Well then, dear friends! An honored guest has arrived today. Let us all enjoy this pleasant time together. Hahaha!”
“Hello, I’m Guillaume de Toulon. If you would permit it, I will shamelessly sit in for a short whi—”
“……”
“What the fuck. Why are you people here?”
With the trust-owning businessmen averting their eyes behind him, Brissot looked back and forth between me and them as though he had no idea what was going on.