Xenoid tourists who want to learn all about the political history of Earth always get the same tour: First they view the ruins of the Acropolis in Athens and the Roman Forum, then their guides take them to Geneva, proud seat of the World Human Parliament.
The visit invariably takes place in two stages over two days.
First day, a Sunday, they are brought to the large building where they tour the immense, empty halls. This allows them to appreciate the walls and floors of fine marble (a material found only on Earth), the gigantic holoscreens, the comfortable ergonomic desks decked out with sophisticated computer voting terminals. Visitors can also admire walls adorned with frescos by great contemporary Earth artists—allegorical representations of Truth, Justice, Virtue, and the other eternal themes of every democracy.
The next day, a Monday, the xenoids return with their guides to watch representatives and parliamentarians in plenary session. They attend their heated debates, listen to their passionate arguments, watch the voting process with great interest, taking long holovideos of the hotbed of human passions that constitutes any governmental body.
Their guides then wearily explain the principle of representative democracy, by which each city sends its favorite sons to Parliament so they can all come to common agreement on which decisions are best for the whole planet.
This explanation typically satisfies ninety percent of the tourists.
As for the other, more curious ten percent, who keep on asking how Parliament can be sure Planetary Security will carry out any regulations they pass, how the people who elected them can remove them if they don’t fulfill their promises, and other fundamental questions, the guides take them outside the gigantic edifice and show them something.
A simple Planetary Tourism Agency sales kiosk, mobbed by all the other tourists trying to buy reminders of their stay on Earth.
Smiling wistfully, as if they are letting down their hair, the guides mention the fact that this one simple kiosk takes in almost as much money in one day as the entire monthly budget of the World Human Parliament.
Then the interested tourists stop asking questions. They’ve understood who really rules the planet. And they march off, content, back to taking holovideos.