The Story - part 7

Betts bent down and picked up a rock about the size of his fist off the ground and, turning towards the parking lot, hurled it directly into the lot full of parked cars.

“What are you-“ George was cut off by the metallic thunk of the rock bouncing off the roof of a car in the lot. “You hit someone’s car!” he finally got out.
“Maybe it was my car.” said Betts, almost to himself. “Do you know what that is the sound of, George?” he continued more loudly, still facing the lot.
“A car. You hit someone else’s car!”
“That,” continued Betts, seemingly oblivious to George’s frantic response, “is the sound of a rock hitting someone I created.”
“Cars. You make cars?”
Betts let out a laugh. “No, not cars.” he said squatting down and selecting a slightly smaller rock. “Line workers in factories make cars.”

Betts turned towards George again and hurled the rock over his head towards the building. George winced and hunched his shoulders at the sharp ricochet sound the rock made as it bounced off a glass window.
“And windows? You make cars and windows?”
Betts laughed again. “You’re not getting this, George.” and he bent down and selected yet a third rock.
“Wait!” pleaded George, “You don’t make cars and you don’t make windows, so how do you say the rock hit something you created?”
Betts weighed the stone in one hand and tossed it to the other. “You see things in such macroscopic terms, George.” he said tossing the stone back and forth between his hands. “A car, a window, most things made by man are less than the sum of their parts.”
“You mean greater than.” corrected George.
“Are you certain? Look at a car in the parking lot. It is one car. You sit in it, you drive it, you park it. One car. One purpose. One function. Think for a moment of the energy poured into building it. Melting steel, molding plastic. The wiring, paint, electronics, and the labor to put all the pieces together. All that you get out of that energy, is something that drives you to work.”

George thought about this while Betts inspected the stone momentarily.

“More than just the energy needed to build a machine, is the energy consumed in creating it. The hours of labor, the materials, the testing, the hundreds of prototype machines built before it, all consumed to make that one final product. A single product with one function. Once the technology is created, building the machine based on that technology is a forgone conclusion. The sum of the parts, the sum of the labor, is so much more than the final product, that actually building it almost seems a waste of time entirely. Trivial compared to the science that brought you to that point. Given that, George, what do you think it is that I do make?” Betts held the stone in one hand now.
“The parts?” George guessed.
“Warmer.” said Betts with a slight grin.
“The technology that creates the parts?”
“Exactly.” said Betts tossing the stone up between them and catching it again.

“How much technology can there be in a window?” said George doubtfully.
“You tell me, George. How do you think you make a smooth, flat 6 foot by 8 foot sheet of glass? Roll it on the counter with a little flour and a really hot rolling pin maybe? Mix in a little paprika to give it that nice dark tint? Then paint it with a big can of silver spray paint to make it reflective?”
“I’m sure its something a little more technical than that.” said George defensively.
“No, its a lot more technical, George.” said Betts, pointing his finger at George. “And the part of it that makes it more technical is precisely what makes it so much more important than just a window on a building.”

“I’m trying to understand the point here.” George was starting to get annoyed with Betts, customer or not.
“That’s where we starting this conversation isn’t it?” said Betts tilting his head.

George had lost track in all the discussion and rock throwing.

Betts continued. “You asked me what the point was of preparing reports if they were just being thrown away. I say, you spend all that time, effort and energy, only to generate something that is essentially worthless in comparison to the work put into it. Would you agree?”

George nodded.

“George,” said Betts pointing behind himself at the parking lot. “I can throw a rock in almost any direction and hit something I created. How far do you need to throw a rock to hit something you created?”

George looked down at the report in the trashcan next to him.

“Yes.” said Betts. “That is the point.”

Betts turned and threw the rock up at the light on the end of the lamppost near them. The rock hit the glass globe squarely, shattering it and sending the shards of glass tumbling to the ground.

“You make street lights too?” asked George grimacing at the sound of the glass breaking.
“No. That was for fun.” said Betts grinning broadly.
“Eventually security will be out to talk to you about that.” said George folding his arms, having had about all he could stand of this.
“Probably not.” said Betts turning and walking towards the parking lot. “I own the building and the company.”

to be continued…

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