The Circle


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Dave Eggers The Circle

We’re calling it Demoxie, Bailey zinged. It’s democracy with your voice, and your moxie.
And it’s coming soon.
That morning Mae was invited to the developers’ pod, where she found twenty or so
exhausted but inspired engineers and designers, who apparently already had a beta
version of Demoxie ready. When Mae entered, cheers erupted, the lights dimmed, and a
single light shone on a woman with long black hair and a face of barely contained joy.
“Hello Mae, hello Mae’s watchers,” she said, bowing brie y. “My name is Sharma, and
I’m so glad, and so honored, to be with you today. Today we’ll be demonstrating the very
earliest form of Demoxie. Normally we wouldn’t move so quickly, and so, well,
transparently, but given the Circle’s fervent belief in Demoxie, and our con dence that it
will be adopted quickly and globally, we couldn’t see any reason to delay.”
The wallscreen came to life. The word Demoxie appeared, rendered in a spirited font
and set inside a blue-and-white striped flag.
“The goal is to make sure that everyone who works at the Circle can weigh in on issues
that a ect their lives—mostly on campus, but in the larger world, too. So throughout any
given day, when the Circle needs to take the company’s temperature on any given issue,
Circlers will get a pop-up notice, and they’ll be asked to answer the question or questions.
The expected turnaround will be speedy, and will be essential. And because we care so
much about everyone’s input, your other messaging systems will freeze temporarily until
you answer. Let me show you.”
On the screen, below the Demoxie logo, the question Should we have more veggie options
at lunch? was bookended by buttons on either side, Yes and No.
Mae nodded. “Very impressive, guys!”
“Thank you,” Sharma said. “Now, if you’ll indulge us. You have to answer, too.” And
she invited Mae to touch either Yes or No on the screen.
“Oh,” Mae said. She walked up to the screen and pushed Yes. The engineers cheered,
the developers cheered. On the screen, a happy face appeared, with the words You are
heard! arcing above. The question disappeared, replaced by the words Demoxie result: 75%
of respondents want more veggie options. More veggie options will be provided.
Sharma was beaming. “See? That’s a simulated result, of course. We don’t have
everyone on Demoxie yet, but you get the gist. The question appears, everyone stops
brie y what they’re doing, responds, and instantly, the Circle can take appropriate action
knowing the full and complete will of the people. Incredible, right?”
“It is,” Mae said.
“Imagine this rolled out nationwide. Worldwide!”
“It’s beyond my capability to imagine.”
“But you came up with this!” Sharma said.
Mae didn’t know what to say. Had she invented this? She wasn’t sure. She’d connected
a few dots: the e ciency and utility of the CircleSurveys, the constant Circle goal of total
saturation, the universal hope for real and un ltered—and, most crucially, complete—
democracy. Now it was in the hands of the developers, hundreds of them at the Circle,
the best in the world. Mae told them this, that she was just one person who connected a
few ideas that stood inches apart, and Sharma, and her team, beamed, and shook her


hand, and they all agreed that what had already been done was setting the Circle, and
possibly all of humanity, on a significant new path.
Mae left the Renaissance and was greeted, just outside the door, by a group of young
Circlers, all of whom wanted to tell her—all of them on their tiptoes, bursting—that they
had never voted before, that they had been utterly uninterested in politics, had felt
disconnected entirely from their government, feeling they had no real voice. They told
her that by the time their vote, or their name on some petition, was ltered through their
local government, and then their state o cials, and nally their representatives in
Washington, it felt like sending a message in a bottle across a vast and troubled sea. But
now, the young Circlers said, they felt involved. If Demoxie worked, they said, then
laughed—when Demoxie is implemented, of course it will work, they said—and when it
does, you’ll nally have a fully engaged populace, and when you do, the country and the
world will hear from the youth, and their inherent idealism and progressivism will upend
the planet. This is what Mae heard all day, as she wandered through the campus. She
could barely get from one building to another without being accosted. We’re on the verge

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