The Circle

accountability. Senators and representatives, mayors and councilpersons,
     have occasionally released their schedules, and have allowed citizens varying degrees
     of access. But still we wonder, Why are they meeting with that former-senator-turned-lobbyist?
     And how did that congressman get that $150,000 the FBI found hidden in his fridge?
     How did that other senator arrange and carry out trysts with a series of women while
     his wife was undergoing cancer treatment? I mean, the array of misdeeds carried out
     while these officials were being paid by you, the citizenry, is not only deplorable,
     not only unacceptable, but also unnecessary.”
    There was a smattering of applause. Santos smiled, nodded, and continued.
    “We’ve all wanted and expected transparency from our elected leaders, but the technology
     wasn’t there to make it fully possible. But now it is. As Stewart has demonstrated,
     it’s very easy to provide the world at large full access to your day, to see what
     you see, hear what you hear and what you say. Thank you for your courage, Stewart.”
    The audience applauded again for Stewart with new vigor, some of them guessing what
     Santos was about to announce.
    “So I intend to follow Stewart on his path of illumination. And along the way, I intend
     to show how democracy can and should be: entirely open, entirely transparent. Starting
     today, I will be wearing the same device that Stewart wears. My every meeting, movement,
     my every word, will be available to all my constituents and to the world.”
    Stenton got off his stool and made his way to Santos. He looked out to the assembled
     Circlers. “Can we give Congresswoman Santos a round of applause?”
    But the audience was already clapping. There were whoops andwhistles, and Santos beamed. While they roared, a technician emerged from the wings
     and hung a necklace around Santos’s head—a smaller version of the camera Stewart had
     been wearing. Santos held the lens to her lips and kissed it. The audience cheered.
     After a minute, Stenton raised his hands, and the crowd quieted. He turned to Santos.
    “So you’re saying that every conversation, every meeting, every part of your day will
     be broadcast?”
    “Yes. It will all be available on my Circle page. Every moment till I sleep.” The
     audienced applauded again, and Stenton indulged them, then again asked for quiet.
    “And what if those who want to meet with you don’t want a given meeting to be broadcast?”
    “Well, then they will not meet with me,” she said. “You’re either transparent or you’re
     not. You’re either accountable or you’re not. What would anyone have to say to me
     that couldn’t be said in public? What part of representing the people should not be
     known by the very people I’m representing?”
    The applause was drowning her out.
    “Indeed,” Stenton said.
    “Thank you! Thank you!” Santos said, bowing, putting her palms together in a posture
     of prayer. The applause continued for minutes. Finally, Stenton gestured for calm
     once more.
    “So when are you starting this new program?” he asked.
    “No time like the present,” she said. She pushed a button on the device around her
     neck, and there it was, the view from her camera, projected on the giant screen behind
     her. The audience saw itself, with great clarity, and roared with approval.
    “It begins now for me, Tom,” she said, “And I hope it begins soonfor the rest of the elected leaders in this country—and for those in every one of
     the world’s democracies.”
    She bowed, she put her hands together again, and then began to walk off the stage.
     As she was nearing the curtains at stage-left, she stopped. “There’s no reason for
     me to go that way—too dark. I’m going this way,” she said, and the lights in the auditorium
     came on as she stepped down to the floor, into the bright light, the room’s thousand
     faces suddenly visible and cheering. She walked straight up the aisle, all the hands
     reaching to her, grinning faces telling her thank you, thank you, go forth and make
     us proud.

That night, in the Colony, there was a reception for Congresswoman Santos, and she
     continued to be swarmed with new admirers. Mae briefly entertained the notion of trying
     to get close enough to shake her hand, but the crowd around her was five deep, all
     night, so instead Mae ate from the buffet, some kind of shredded pork that had been
     made on campus, and waited