Just Say It

'Some people seem to be able to make fast decisions. It's seen as a strength, a badge of honour, a flexing of powerful mental muscles. But I always knew that I needed time to come to a decision. Maybe it's the way my brain is wired.'

Nat Brase placed both hands on the plinth and surveyed the audience, then the bank of TV cameras directly in front of him. All the expectant lenses stared back.

'I seem to take more information into account when I make a decision. The connections in my brain are longer, not slower.'

Nat was the clear favourite in this election. Regarded as highly intelligent, his campaign had been measured, free from the slightest whiff of scandal, refreshingly boring.

'There was a time when I felt rushed into making decisions, and those decisions were always bad. At the sweet shop, with a long queue behind me, I would choose the wrong chocolate bar.'

Nat stretched his back upwards to emphasise his above average height, lifted his chin to highlight his strong jawline, and shook his fingers out of view. He breathed in and out several times, slower and slower each repetition.

'I learnt how to buy myself time. I learnt how to create the space to make the right decisions. I can do this.'

A make-up artist was brushing the final minor adjustments to the host's face, then dashed off. Nat kept his eyes focused on the space in front of him.

'Focus.'

But Nat could no longer focus.

'F-o-c-u-s.'

Nat looked to his left and saw his nearer challenger. Then to his right, he saw the candidate who should have withdrawn long ago.

'I lead by consensus. This is just a question of repeating what has already been discussed. Focus.'

The host touched his earpiece, the room went completely silent.

---

"But what if the unexpected happens?" asked the host. "What if Manchester's water supply is poisoned and becomes undrinkable for months?"

The first voice was to Nat's left. "Of course we would spare no expense. We would requisition all the bottled water in the country and send it to Manchester. No man, woman or child would get sick. We would do everything we could to keep the city supplied with clean, healthy, drinking water."

The audience applauded vigorously. After a short respectful pause the next voice was from Nat's right.

"As long as it's not London's water." A shocked silence. "No seriously, I'd do the same, I'd find clean drinking water for all those Mancs."

"Nat Brase," announced the host. "As the likely winner, you're going to be directing policy. What would you do?"

Nat ran the costs of the various options through his mind. There were problems with each option. He could do the maths, he just needed time to optimise the results.

"First thought, best thought?" continued the host.

Nat lowered his head, his brain firing with the complex options available to him. He foolishly looked across to his advisors and knew that the host had clocked this.

"What's so hard about the question Mr Brase?"

There were just too many options. The infrastructure was complex, the budgets unclear, he wasn't sure how quickly the bottled water suppliers could respond. Supply chains weren't his strength. Which reservoirs did Manchester get its water from?

"Just say it!" demanded the host.

"Just say it!" demanded the voices left and right.

But Nat just wasn't sure what he would do without further analysis.