Welcome to The Nonlinear Library, where we use Text-to-Speech software to convert the best writing from the Rationalist and EA communities into audio. This is: Bruce Wayne and the Cost of Inaction, published by TurnTrout on September 30, 2022 on LessWrong.
My brother (DivineMango) and I (TurnTrout) wrote this first arc of a Batman fanfiction in the summer of 2020.
1: Don't Look Away
“The man’s starving. That doesn’t change if you look away, Bruce.”
Hand wrapped firmly around his son’s shoulder, Thomas Wayne directed his son’s flinching gaze towards a haggard face. The man looked crumpled, his beard long and unkempt, his eyes bagged and bloodshot. A tattered cardboard sign hung heavily from his neck:
Bruce was scared. At eight, he’d seen homeless people before, but he’d never connected the dots: this was a person, just out on the street.
Thomas walked towards the man, his designer leather shoes tapping out a confident pace against the pavement. In a smooth motion, he pulled out his billfold and kneeled to speak.
The man flinched. He seemed surprised anyone had even noticed he was there, and his eyes widened as he recognized the magnate of Wayne Enterprises. Ignoring the looks shot his way by the affluent passersby, Thomas spoke with the man. After about a minute, he pressed two crisp large bills into the man’s dirty hands; between the bills was the business card of one of Gotham’s better psychiatrists.
As the father and son resumed their stroll, Bruce looked up at his dad, his eyes still wide.
“What happened to him? Did he used to be a kid like me?”
Thomas considered his response as they walked down the boulevard and past the gleaming storefronts. To their right stretched a verdant park dotted by dark wooden benches, some of which encircled a duck pond. Together, they sat.
“His name is Oscar, Bruce. He’s seen terrible things. Sometimes, people, good people, can get hurt in ways that don’t heal. It’s not like skinning your knee—it’s like falling down a dark well, and no one comes to help you climb out.”
“That’s awful.”
“Yes, it is. It is awful.”
“I don’t want to. I shouldn’t get any more toys until we help these people.”
Thomas blinked. The musical conversation of a happy couple drifted by. The sun cast long and deep shadows across the park.
“I’m proud of you, Bruce. Never forget that feeling. But... that’s not right. If you only let yourself be happy when everyone else in the world is, you’ll never smile again. The world is big, and no man or woman can fix everything by themselves.”
“Why not?”, Bruce asked earnestly, legs swinging lazily under the bench, feet grazing the tips of the grass.
“Why not?”, Thomas echoed softly. “Problems are hard. To land on the moon, we had to understand mathematics, and physics, and ten thousand details besides. To stop viruses, we had to understand our own bodies so well that we could teach them to attack the virus before it could hurt us. If you want to change the world, you have to understand it first.
“Even though we employ many skilled people, I can’t just cut a check for ‘fixing everything.’ If people get hurt and never heal, we need to understand why. Then, we need to change the system in just the right way, so that the problem goes away and never comes back. That’s hard work, and there are many problems.”
Bruce nodded. The sun winked over the skyline, and the sky waxed purple. Darkness would soon be upon them.
“Some people use this as an excuse. Since they can’t solve everything, they won’t try to solve anything.
“It’s easy to let details like Oscar fade away. You might notice a broken flower pot the first time you walk by, but by the third pass, your mind forgets to notice. But Oscar isn’t a flower pot. He was someone’s son. He had dreams, and heroes, and toys.”
The silver and black skyline glimmered against the velvet curtain sky. Silence overcame them for a moment, like the pause before a question's answer. Thomas' gaze meandered onto the nearest tower, which housed the main branch o...