------------------------------------- Ronny was irritated by her know-all air. He tapped the book he’d been reading with a finger. “They don’t control the government. Avalon’s got a three-party system. Any time the people don’t like the government, they can vote in an alternative.” “That’s an optical illusion. There are three parties, but each is dominated by the fifty families, and election laws are such that for all practical purposes it’s impossible to start another party. Theoretically it’s possible, actually it isn’t. The voters can vary back and forth between the three political parties but it doesn’t make any difference which one they elect. They all stand for the same thing—a continuation of the status quo.” “Then you claim it isn’t democracy at all?” Tog sighed. “That’s a much abused word. Actually, pure democracy is seldom seen. They pretty well had it in primitive society where government was based on the family. You voted for one of your relatives in your clan to represent you in the tribal councils. Every one in the tribe was equal so far as apportionments of the necessities of life were concerned. No one, even the tribal chiefs, ate better than anyone else, no one had a better home.” Ronny said, snappishly, “And if man had remained at that level, we’d never have gotten anywhere.” “That’s right,” she said. “For progress, man needed a leisure class. Somebody with the time to study, to experiment, to work things out.” He said, “We’re getting away from the point. You said in spite of appearances they don’t have democracy on Avalon.” “They have a pretense of it. But only free men can practice democracy. So long as your food, clothing and shelter are controlled by someone else, you aren’t free. Wait until I think of an example.” She put her right forefinger to her chin, thoughtfully. Holy smokes, she was a cute trick. If only she wasn’t so confounded irritating. Tog said, “Do you remember the State of California in Earth history?” “I think so. On the west coast of North America.” “That’s right. Well, back in the Twentieth Century, Christian calendar, they had an economic depression. During it a crackpot organization called Thirty Dollars Every Thursday managed to get itself on the ballot. Times were bad enough but had this particular bunch got into power it would have become chaotic. At first no thinking person took them seriously, however a majority of people in California at that time had little to lose and in the final week or so of the election campaign the polls showed that Thirty Dollars Every Thursday was going to win. So, a few days before voting many of the larger industries and businesses in the State ran full page ads in the newspapers. They said substantially the same thing. _If Thirty Dollars Every Thursday wins this election, our concern will close its doors. Do not bother to come back to work Monday._” Ronny was scowling at her. “What’s your point?”