ENTRY 100a: Cousin Program
“Comrade. Convict. Co-worker. This word means Cousin.”
Transhumanity has grown strange and, in many ways, far
apart. Egos that first developed to deal with tribes of no more than a hundred
individuals, to recognize kinship with others by smell, accent, and facial
shape, are adrift in a community of billions that challenge any definition of
what transhumanity is or might be—and with AGIs, uplifts, the Factors and other
alien species, many transhumans become lost, unable to define themselves by
their relationships with others, to others. With the vast host of transhumanity
sometimes only a thought away from them, individuals become alienated, lonely,
and withdrawn. Studies of this phenomenon point to how dangerous it is—the
afflicted show high incidence of developing psychoses, low empathy, suicide,
falling under the persuasion of charismatic individuals and movements—and have
suggested a means to fight it: the Cousin Program.
Mostly popular in penal habitats, the Cousin Program forces
casual socialization and fraternization by matching subjects up according to
similar traits or interests, giving them common goals, and staging low-danger
moderate-stress events that force interdependency and communication. Some
habitats have even adopted variations of the Cousin program as alternative
community service: an isolated hypercorp bigwig may find themselves scrubbing
air filters alongside a hermetic digital archivist, the only two in the habitat
that are conversant in Bulgarian.
Military units throughout the system have made extensive use
of Cousin program, both for therapeutic purposes and as a tool to develop
small, close-knit teams. Unlike civilian programs however, milspec Cousin
“bonding events” tend to be moderate to high-stress and openly dangerous for
the transhuman participants, involving combination of teamwork, survival,
communication, problem-solving, and combat skills to achieve the stated
objective—or just to allow the group to survive. Whether or not the group
“wins” is, of course, secondary to whether or not they form the close-knit
relationship that the military in question aims for.
Using the Cousin Program
The Cousin program provides several opportunities for
players and gamemasters to expand on and interact with their characters. The
forced socialization provides opportunities for individuals from disparate
social, cultural, and economic groups to mix and mingle in a non-threatening
environment; unlikely friendships and contacts may develop. Cousin events can
force together individuals who would not normally come into contact, providing
opportunities to inject a PC or NPC into a game. A PC group may start out a
military unit forged during a Cousin program “trial by fire,” or the gamemaster
can design such a scenario to encourage closer bonds and teamwork between
players. The main consideration with the Cousin program is that the
participants have some interest or trait in common, and usually not an obvious
one like faction or morph type—both characters may speak the same language, or
share an interest in similar media, be interested in the same authors or
hobbies, etc. This small connection is at the core of the Cousin program, and
provides a way for the characters to relate and open up to one another.
ENTRY 100b: CommServ
In post-scarcity economies, there is no place for debtor’s
prisons, or for any physical incarceration at all, unless the safety of the
individual or community is at risk. Still, there are systems in place to check
when a morph does break local regulations or draws on an excess of local
resources to the point of inconveniencing others. The typical penalty is simply
restricted access: local makers and dispensaries will refuse to give the
offending morph anything besides the basic materials needed for survival.
Continued or aggravated demands on the system or efforts to defraud or hack
their way past the limitation usually results in a blackmark or stigma being
placed on the morph’s ID, which restricts their opportunity to obtain favors and
often leads to a degree of social shaming. For particularly egregious offenses
or longstanding patterns of abusive behavior, habitats typically tighten the
restrictions, including filtering the morph’s Mesh content, and this penalty
usually lasts without a time limitation.
While a pain in the ass, this low-key penalty system is
advantageous in that it exhausts a minimum amount of resources from all parties
involved; the morph under a penalty is still free to go about their business,
live their life, and get things done. If the restrictions do become too much
for a morph to bear, there’s always community service.
CommServ is voluntary and dynamically scheduled; any time
the morph has hours to spare they can flag their status and the local matrices
will spit out a list of tasks that can be done, the physical and
skill/classification requirements, and where they can pick up the equipment.
Typical tasks in most habitats include cleaning, basic maintenance, and
beautification: running a vacuum brush over electronics panels, changing out
air filters, scraping off and reapplying the safety stickers on the airlock,
etc. More skilled or dangerous labor is valued more highly, but is often
restricted to doublecheck that the morph has proper safety precautions
(including spotters) in place. Most stations also organize group CommServ
events on a regular schedule for larger coordinated procedures like flushing
the pipes and security checks. Some habitats even count positive suggestions on
how to improve the care and running of the community as CommServ, provided
they’re good enough to implement.
Using CommServ
It can be easy for a player character who is new to the
whole post-scarcity concept to go a little overboard or be a little wasteful;
it’s also likely that during the extraordinary events that PCs regularly
participate in they might piss off a few residents. Either way, the PCs may end
up receiving any of the penalties listed above. Instead of suffering quietly
(or with much bitching) to the cold shoulders they get when asking for
something better than grey nutragoop and sterilized water, players can choose
to have their characters do a couple CommServ jobs around the station—a great
way for them to meet other people, practice or pick up a new skill, or
familiarize themselves with aspects of the habitat that might be important
later. In addition to minimizing the period characters suffer the rationing and
restrictions mentioned above, sustained or substantial CommServ efforts can
earn the character favors from local residents—trivial favors generally require
6 hours of CommServ, minor favors 24 hours of CommServ, and major favors 60
hours of CommServ or more.
Two excellent entries! As a social scientist, I love these kinds of thoughts about how society might change if the parameters of life are changed. I think it's probably the most fascinating aspect of science fiction in general :)
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