“Thank you for agreeing to be interviewed Mister President. I know I haven’t always been writing the most positive things about you so it’s brave of you to agree to this,” the brunette said as she clicked her pen to joy a note at the top of her pad of paper. Elizabeth Brookings was one of the best investigative reporters in the world, and she had been on my case since I had declared my candidacy for the White House.
I smiled, “A free press is so valuable to a functional democracy. I want to get beyond calling everything Fake News and talk about the exciting things my administration is doing. And dissent and disagreement is vital.”
She nodded, “I see. Yet you have blocked some stories from being published by my own paper.”
“Those were in the interests of national security. As you know my background is from the intelligence community. We had a rough few years of not being on the same page as the previous administration but now I want us as a nation to move forward. That’s the intelligence services, the military and civilian government all singing from the same hymn sheet as we confront external threats and work to unify our people,” I answer still smiling.
It was true, my work as President so far had been geared towards addressing the rifts in the nation. State actors, particularly from our former enemies, had targeted those natural fissures and worked to splinter and divide us. They had used social media to manipulate us, to stoke disagreements between neighbours and repairing that damage had been of paramount importance to me.
With that had come some compromises. Compromises that Miss Brookings had picked up on before anyone else had, and had been pursuing with a dogged enthusiasm that was commendable if also annoying.
“Let’s start with your unusual campaign ads,” she said.
I laughed, “I prefer to think of them as innovative.”
“Well there were reports that they used some pretty advanced techniques to manipulate people’s perception,” she said.
“You say that, but isn’t that what all ads do? And your reporting on this has been based on the accusations of one mentally ill man who was terminated from the campaign and was trying to get back at for firing him. There needs to be more proof than that before you accuse me of brainwashing America,” I replied.
“You said brainwashing, I used the term ‘psychological manipulation’,” Elizabeth Brookings responded.
I laughed, “Yes, and it still sounded much more sinister. People voted for me because they wanted a change and I offered it. They wanted competence and expertise in the White House and I was very effective at showing that I could steer the ship. That you don’t trust me because I was in the CIA doesn’t mean that I’m doing anything immoral.”
“Yes, but studies show that exposure to your ads on both traditional and social media increased the chances of someone would vote for you by a substantial amount,” she said, “How do you explain that?”
“I had a good ad team, and a compelling campaign. We targeted our ads well, and did what campaigns have always done just better. Besides you’ve been obsessing over my ads since before the election and it’s not like they’ve turned you into a hypnotized zombie,” I countered.
She makes a note, and studies me again.
“I know there’s something odd in your ads,” she said, “I just need to find out what. Eventually it’ll come out, it always does.”
“Well that’s why I wanted to talk to you. I do need a press that acts as a voice of dissent, but I’d rather you drop this line of study. Maybe focus on taxes or something else,” I said, reaching into my suit jacket’s inner pocket and pulling out a small metallic device and pressing a button on it. The device emitted a high pitched tone.
Miss Brooking’s expression went slack and she relaxed, slumping into her seat. Of course I didn’t want to preside over a country of hypnotized slaves. The ads had just given people a push towards voting for me, but not a strong enough one to look too suspicious. I didn’t need a Putin like ninety-plus percent of the vote. However it also gave me a way to directly control people when needed.
“Taxes are much more interesting. Focus on tax policy and the environment,” I said to the dazed woman, allowing the suggestions to sink into the malleable suggestible state her mind was in.
Studying her in her suggestible state I added, “And you know that if you seduce me you will get much better information. In fact you know that seducing me is the best way to get a quote for your new story on tax policy.”
I pushed the button again, the tone sounded a second time and she blinked as her mind resumed its normal operation. She looked confused for a second then smiled, “Mister President, have I told you that you are a very attractive man?”
I raised an eyebrow as she stood, and began to disrobe. She was a beautiful woman, and it was nice to see her getting right to the point of the matter. I’d have to do a lot more interviews with her over the next four, or let’s say eight, years.
That wouldn’t be too taxing. I do support the free press.