The Kingdom of Very Careful People
In a quiet, efficient kingdom where everything worked, everyone was very happy.
Or at least, everyone said they were.
The trains arrived on time. The streets were clean. The buildings stood tall, like obedient children who never asked questions.
And in this kingdom, people were free to speak.
They just had to be… careful.
Very careful.
There was, for example, a man who once said,
“I think maybe things could be improved.”
It was a gentle sentence. Soft. Rounded at the edges. No sharp corners.
The next day, a group of Very Helpful Officials appeared.
They smiled.
They said,
“Hello. We noticed your sentence. It may not be entirely accurate.”
The man blinked.
“Not accurate?”
“Yes,” they said kindly. “You said ‘things could be improved.’ But many things are already excellent. Your sentence might cause unnecessary confusion.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Of course you didn’t,” they said, still smiling. “Which is why we are here to help you correct it.”
They handed him a revised version.
“I appreciate the many excellent things that are already excellent.”
The man looked at it.
It was… accurate.
Very accurate.
He signed it.
Soon, the people of the kingdom became better at speaking.
They learned to round their sentences before finishing them.
“I think maybe—actually, never mind.”
“It’s quite good already.”
“No comments.”
It became a kind of art.
Children in school practiced Safe Speaking.
Exercise 1:
Turn this sentence into a safer version.
Original:
“This policy is confusing.”
Revised:
“I may not fully understand this excellent policy.”
Original:
“This doesn’t make sense.”
Revised:
“I may not fully understand.”
Original:
“This is a problem.”
Revised:
“There are areas for further appreciation.”
Full marks.
In time, the kingdom became even more peaceful.
Arguments disappeared.
Discussions became shorter.
Opinions became lighter, like helium balloons that floated away before anyone could hold them.
And the officials were very proud.
“Look,” they said, “no conflict.”
And it was true.
There was no conflict.
Only… silence, arranged neatly.
One day, a visitor arrived.
He listened to the conversations.
He noticed something strange.
Whenever someone spoke, they would look around first.
Not nervously.
Just… habitually.
Like checking the weather.
“Why do you do that?” he asked.
The people smiled.
“It’s just good manners.”
The visitor stayed a little longer.
He noticed that people had many thoughts.
Deep thoughts. Funny thoughts. Frustrated thoughts.
But most of these thoughts lived quietly inside their heads, like tenants who had forgotten how to leave the house.
“Why not say them?” he asked.
The people laughed.
“Oh, we can.”
They paused.
“We just choose not to.”
Before the visitor left, he asked one last question.
“If everyone is careful all the time… how do you know what people really think?”
The people considered this.
Then one of them said,
“We don’t.”
Another added,
“But everything is still working.”
And everyone nodded.
Because that was true.
Everything was working.
Perfectly.
In the Kingdom of Very Careful People, nothing was ever wrong.
And because of that,
nothing ever changed.
PS: If you enjoy this kind of writing, support me at my bookstore so I can continue writing things people think… but don’t always say.
