Chapter 10: The Allure of Easy
The next morning, the room filled faster.
Not because people were early.
Because something unfinished had followed them home.
Marcus arrived first, as usual.
He didn’t sit straight away.
He stood at the edge of the circle, looking at the empty space in the middle.
Yesterday, it had felt… possible.
Today, it felt exposed.
Unstructured.
Slow.
He exhaled and sat down.
Helen arrived next, notebook already open.
“You look like you’ve been thinking,” she said.
Marcus gave a short laugh.
“That obvious?”
“You’re standing in a doorway staring at carpet.”
“That’s not carpet,” Marcus said.
Helen raised an eyebrow.
“Oh?”
“It’s a gap.”
She paused.
“Yes,” she said quietly. “It is.”
Sam came in, shaking rain from his coat.
“Morning,” he said, dropping into a chair. “Are we still analysing flooring, or have we moved on?”
Marcus didn’t smile.
“We’re still not making decisions.”
Sam leaned back.
“Ah,” he said. “So we’ve upgraded from flooring to frustration.”
Lena arrived last, slightly breathless, energy already ahead of her.
“Okay,” she said, sitting down. “I’ve been thinking.”
Marcus nodded.
“Good,” he said. “So have I.”
A pause.
Then Alex spoke.
“I looked into something last night.”
The group turned, subtly.
He didn’t usually lead.
“There are systems,” he said carefully, “that could help with this.”
Marcus leaned forward immediately.
“What kind of systems?”
A flicker of hesitation.
“AI,” Alex said.
The word landed differently for each of them.
Marcus didn’t hesitate.
“Of course there are,” he said.
His shoulders dropped slightly, something loosening.
“Why wouldn’t there be?”
Helen’s pen stopped.
Sam didn’t move.
Lena leaned in, eyes lit.
“What kind of AI?”
Alex found his rhythm.
“Facilitation systems. They track contributions. Balance voices. Highlight bias. Keep discussions focused.”
Marcus nodded, already there.
“That would solve it.”
No hesitation.
Just relief.
Sam turned his head.
“Would it?”
Marcus looked at him.
“It would move us forward.”
Helen closed her notebook.
“Forward where?”
“Toward decisions.”
“That’s not the same thing,” she said.
Marcus exhaled.
“It’s closer than this.”
He gestured around the room.
The space.
The circling.
The not-quite-getting-anywhere.
Lena leaned in further.
“Wait—this could be bigger than just this group.”
Sam closed his eyes briefly.
Here we go.
“It could run sessions like this everywhere,” Lena continued. “Different groups, different locations, real-time input, instant feedback—”
“Lena,” Helen said gently.
“—pattern tracking across discussions, shared learning—”
“Lena.”
She stopped.
“What?”
“One thing at a time.”
Marcus shook his head.
“No, she’s right,” he said. “This is scalable.”
Sam leaned forward.
“Everything doesn’t have to be scalable.”
Marcus turned to him.
“Everything that works should be.”
Sam smiled slightly.
“That’s an assumption.”
“It’s a practical one.”
Helen stepped in.
“What would it be using to make decisions?”
Marcus gestured.
“Data. Inputs. Patterns.”
Helen nodded.
“Yes. But whose?”
A pause.
Alex answered.
“Everyone’s.”
Helen tilted her head.
“Which everyone?”
Another pause.
“The people in the room?” she continued. “Or people who aren’t here?”
Alex hesitated.
“Potentially both.”
Helen nodded slowly.
“So we don’t fully know what it’s drawing from.”
Marcus leaned back.
“We don’t fully know what people are drawing from either.”
“That’s not the same.”
“Why not?”
“Because we can ask people.”
Marcus shrugged.
“People don’t always know.”
Sam spoke quietly.
“Sometimes they do.”
The room shifted.
Sam looked at the centre.
“And sometimes… they don’t say.”
Lena turned.
“But if it tracks everything—”
“It won’t track what isn’t said,” Sam replied.
“It can infer,” Marcus said.
Sam nodded.
“Yes. Infer.”
A pause.
“That’s not the same as understand.”
Marcus’s tone sharpened.
“So what’s your alternative? We just sit here and hope everyone expresses themselves perfectly?”
Sam didn’t react.
“No,” he said. “We learn to listen better.”
Marcus gave a short, frustrated laugh.
“That takes time.”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
Marcus leaned forward again.
“This solves the time problem.”
Helen looked at him.
“At what cost?”
Marcus didn’t hesitate.
“We don’t know yet.”
Helen nodded.
“Exactly.”
Alex spoke again, quieter now.
“It would make things clearer.”
Marcus nodded.
“Yes.”
“And easier.”
That word landed.
Easier.
No one spoke for a moment.
Lena broke it.
“Well… yes,” she said. “That’s the point, isn’t it?”
Marcus exhaled.
“Finally.”
Helen looked at Alex.
“Say that again.”
Alex hesitated.
“It would make things easier.”
Helen nodded slowly.
A pause.
“That’s what we all felt.”
No one answered.
They didn’t need to.
Marcus looked down at his hands.
Lena leaned back slightly.
Sam watched them both.
Helen’s voice softened.
“It’s the relief.”
Silence.
Because she was right.
Marcus let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.
“Yes,” he said.
No argument now.
Just honesty.
Sam spoke gently.
“Relief from what?”
Marcus didn’t answer immediately.
Then:
“From this.”
He gestured again.
The space.
The effort.
The not knowing.
Helen nodded.
“Yes.”
Alex shifted.
“I’m not saying we should use it.”
Marcus looked at him.
“You’re not?”
Alex shook his head.
“I just… noticed how quickly it made sense.”
That landed.
Lena gave a small laugh.
“Me too.”
Sam nodded.
“Of course it does.”
Marcus looked around the circle.
“So what are we saying?”
“That we ignore something that could help?”
Helen shook her head.
“No.”
“We notice it.”
Marcus frowned.
“That’s not a decision.”
“No,” she said.
“It isn’t.”
A pause.
“And that might be the point.”
No one rushed to fill the silence.
For once.
Marcus leaned back slowly.
Not convinced.
But not pushing.
Sam looked at the centre again.
“It’s still there.”
Lena followed his gaze.
“Yes.”
No one moved toward it.
Not this time.
After a while, Marcus checked his watch.
“Same time tomorrow?”
No one answered immediately.
But no one stood up either.
The space in the middle remained.
And this time, it didn’t feel like something missing.
It felt like something they were not quite ready to give up.
Reflections
When something promises to make life easier, what do you feel first?
Relief?
Excitement?
Urgency to act?
What might that feeling be trying to move you away from?
Think of a time when you chose a solution because it was faster or simpler.
What did you gain?
What did you quietly lose?
Whose perspective do you instinctively trust when making decisions?
Your own?
An expert?
A system?
What perspectives do you not ask for?
In the conversation you just read:
Marcus sees efficiency.
Helen sees risk.
Sam sees what isn’t being said.
Lena sees possibility.
Each is right.
Each is incomplete.Which one do you most recognise in yourself?
What changes when you treat different perspectives not as obstacles…
…but as data you haven’t understood yet?What if wisdom isn’t about choosing the right answer…
…but about holding enough perspectives long enough for a wiser answer to emerge?
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