He smiles. “Sometimes the economy benefits from a steady hand of guidance.”
Lili folds her arms. “What do you have against the state trying to care for its citizens? Christ, you grew up within socialism.”
“And don’t you think that gives me more experience to speak to the inherent flaws of a planned economy? The free market is much more capable of self-regulation than a centralized system, much better at encouraging excellence and meeting needs.”
“Or perhaps it just makes you selfish and heartless.”
“When a state reaches into you and your life that much, it’s demanding, not offering.”
Lili frowns. It’s not an unintelligent remark. “You mean rights in exchange for protection. Basically, the social contract.”
“Yes. In socialist societies, you aren’t given the freedom to enter into that contract. You’re forced into it.”
“Okay, no—we’re all born into some preexisting social contract, no matter what country. Nobody chooses to be born into capitalism, either. No one lives in an actual state of nature.”
“So, what individual freedoms are you willing to sacrifice for state protection?”
She shakes her head. “Sacrifice is such a loaded word, it distorts the entire argument. You need to start from the reverse—what state protection are we looking for?”
“And?” Aleksandr takes a seat by the reflecting pool, its bench. He looks at her, waiting.
It’s a little disconcerting: someone wanting to hear what she has to say, rather than forcing their own opinions on her.
“Well,” she starts, stepping towards him. She lets the hem of her dress sway a little, as she stands between his legs, not touching him. When he’s sitting down, he’s almost her height, but instead of leveling their dynamic, it makes her feel more unsettled. His dark eyes, watching her.
“Ideally,” she says, “a society—its government—provides necessities like education, food, housing. Healthcare, childcare. If you stumble, there’s support to help you get back on your feet.”
“That level of state apparatus just forcibly protects people from themselves.”
Lili makes an exasperated noise in her throat. “State protection is what we’re discussing.”
His hand comes to rest on the back of her knee, a light touch. The muscles of her thigh jump, but she doesn’t move away. “It cripples people, societies,” he says. Against her better judgment, her hands settle on his shoulders. “Encourages mediocrity. If you’ll always be caught by a safety net, what do you have to strive towards?”
“Or maybe it’ll make you feel safe enough to strive, rather than just survive.”
“Consequences are important.” His index finger starts to rub a pattern on the soft skin behind her knee.
“This isn’t about mitigating consequences.”
“No, it’s about insulating people within the gray indifference of bureaucracy, the illusion of protection, so they don’t notice the theft of their freedom.”
“So, poverty then. Expose people to their consequences—you just mean poverty is the consequence for not being deemed valuable by the market.”
“You can’t protect people from everything.”
“And people aren’t responsible for every horrible thing that happens in their life.”
He shrugs. “Sink or swim.”
Lili’s hands tighten in the fabric of his suit. “That’s a really fucking nicely sanitized way of saying you’re alright with people drowning.”
Aleksandr tilts his head. Narrowed gaze, examining her reaction—and she realizes the playfulness, the teasing bite of intellectual sparring, had drained out of her voice.
Lili steps away from him. She looks at the trees of the park, green beyond the stretch of glass windows.
It doesn’t matter what she thinks, what he thinks. It doesn’t matter if they disagree. That isn’t what this is.
Aleksandr stands. “Enough about politics,” he says. “I brought you here for art.”
