Civil Affairs By Wetrats Chapter Four: Father Knows Best Interesting place you’ve got here, son. Catastrophically mis-managed, but certainly interesting. Calm down. I’m not laying the blame entirely at your feet. I presume most of the institutional flaws were already in place well before your time. That was a pun, Shaun. Not a particularly good or clever one, but a pun nonetheless. You would understand puns, and their importance, if this was an actual goddamn institute of learning. I’ve seen your Bioscience Division, your Robotics Division, your Advanced Systems Division, and your absurd Synth Retention Bureau. You know what I haven’t seen? I haven’t seen a single goddamn classroom. There’s not even a fucking library! Your department heads call themselves doctors. As far as I can tell, I’m the only genuine doctor in this entire place. You don’t just get promoted to doctor, for Christ’s sake, you have to work for it, study for years, defend your knowledge before your peers. Doctor isn’t a title, and it sure as shit isn’t a job description, a doctor is a teacher. It’s what the word means. It’s from Latin. Jesus Christ, you backwards hayseeds down here don’t even know Latin? I’m sorry, son, are you not used to being spoken to like this? Were you expecting me to finish my little tour and come back all awestruck by the wonders your people have achieved down here? It doesn’t work that way. True academics are intellectually tough. They have gone through a process in which every brilliant idea they came up with was challenged. A process where they learned that ninety-nine point nine nine nine nine nine percent of those brilliant ideas have been come up with already. And that ninety-nine point nine nine nine nine eight percent of those brilliant ideas have been proven wrong. A huge part of a good education isn’t learning information, it is learning that you probably aren’t nearly as smart as you think you are. And you people, your precious Institute, aren’t anywhere near as smart as you think. You want an example? Here’s an example: you spend a huge amount of resources building a machine that looks and behaves so much like a human being that you have to carve it up to be sure it isn’t one. And then you put a fucking broom in its hands. What the complete fuck, Shaun! Build a robotic vacuum! Christ, and I thought the Commonwealth needed my help. You people REALLY need my help. And not to run around chasing your lost toys, either. You need me to teach you how to think.