"I mean they are not valuable in themselves. You can make cheap, synthetic jewels that are almost as beautiful, can't you?" "Yes, of course, but--" "So they are only valuable because they are rare, because you _call_ them valuable, because they show the people who buy them have enough money to buy them. Wearing them is really a way of saying, I'm rich, to everyone who sees you." He shrugged. "We don't care about that sort of thing here." Kirk clenched his fists in frustration. Maybe he should have specialized in alien psychology. He made another try. "I know you don't. That's not the point. The point is that you can trade them for other things, for--" The older native who had announced the Council decision broke in again. "As you said, the mining is very hard, disagreeable work. We feel that when you begin to do disagreeable things for an end that is not valuable in itself, you are beginning to tread a dangerous path. There is no telling where it will end. One such situation leads to another. We might end up cooped up in a room all day, shut away from the sun and air, turning bolts on an assembly line to make machines, as we have heard often happens on Terra." He looked slightly shocked at the picture. "Being surrounded by technical conveniences isn't worth that." He looked at Kirk patiently, as though this should be self-evident. "On Terra and on most of the other planets we have had word of, people seem to spend their time making all kinds of things that have no value in themselves, because they can be sold or traded. Other people spend their time trying to persuade people to buy these useless things. Still other people spend all day making records of how many of these things have been sold. No! This path is not for us." He shook his head. "We don't know how it came about that all these people spend their time at these unpleasant, useless things. They can't have wanted it that way. No human being could want to spend his time doing silly, pointless things. How could you believe in yourself? How could you walk proudly? How could you explain it to your children? We must be careful not to make the mistake of taking the first step in that direction." Kirk felt hopelessly confused. The reasoning was all wrong, but how could he explain it to them? He began slowly, from another angle.... * * * * * He stood there for a long time after they had left, trying to control his rage. He had tried everything he could think of. He had argued, reasoned, pleaded with them. He had raged at them, threatened them. Nothing had worked. The threats had not disturbed them. He thought of sending out an emergency beam for help. But what would he say when the ship arrived: put these people under martial law--force them to work--it's for their own good? He'd like to see if they could do it, he thought. He'd be betting they couldn't. He paced up and down, clenching his fists.