Qualityland

QUALITYPARTNER

Sandra has finally been promoted, and has jumped up two levels at once. For the last four years she has been working for World Wide Wholesale (WWW), where she’s responsible for product placement in news reports. A mind-numbingly dull job. From the vast mass of news items available, search algorithms deliver those which will garner the most attention. Whether the news is true or false is irrelevant, at least at WWW. Other algorithms then contact the appropriate businesspeople or their algorithms and subtly place the products into the news. Before a piece goes online, it is presented to a human for control checks. A human like Sandra. Who then thinks up the most intriguing headline possible (which doesn’t necessarily need to bear any relation to the content of the news item). The most important thing is that the people click on it and look at the advertising. “The headline can be as banal or as stupid as you like,” Sandra’s old department leader always used to say. “Stupid sells.” As an example, he would then cite the most successful headline of his career. “These ten megastars had sex with children.” As soon as you clicked on the headline, the full title was: “These ten megastars had sex with children, once the children in question were adults.”

The last news item that Sandra had received before her promotion was:

“A 23-year-old Level 17 waitress was robbed and sexually assaulted in Disney Street today, close to the Best Bagels Café, home of the best bagels in QualityCity. The perpetrators were young men in fashionable Levi’s skinny jeans. They prevented anyone calling for help with a callblocker from the firm Silentium Inc.—which is currently giving an incredible five-year guarantee on all devices—said the victim in her statement, clearly impressed. An uninvolved witness, who was not at the scene of the crime and who didn’t see or hear anything, voiced her suspicion that the attackers were foreigners.”

Sandra deleted the victim’s age and gave the article the headline “Foreigners rape girl in the center of QualityCity!” As is to be expected, the report went viral, and Sandra finally had enough clicks to be promoted.

As she is now team leader in the Department for Alternative Facts, today she can take part for the first time in her company’s monthly Hangout. She cheers along with the others in the auditorium as their boss sprints up the eight steps to the stage. Arriving at the top, Oliver House-Husband grins, revealing his immaculate teeth, and calls out: “Hello, family!”

“Hello, Papa!” answers the crowd cheerfully. Sandra has never been before, but of course she still knows the ritual.

“We’ve landed a new client!”

The employees applaud, clearly excited. Word has already gotten around about who’s coming to visit, and even at an agency as big as WWW, it’s not every day that someone from the 90s Club stops by.

“Please join me in welcoming Patricia Team-Leader from QualityPartner!”

The auditorium explodes with applause as the somewhat chubby but, despite her forty-seven years, still very attractive founder of the world’s biggest online dating platform steps onto the stage. She sassily blows a strand of her long red hair out of her face.

“Patricia,” begins Oliver. “Just a few months ago you were all over the news as the third woman in the world to crack Level 90. And now you’re already at Level 91!”

Patricia smiles. “Yes, and you can believe me when I say I have no desire to leave the club!”

The audience laughs.

“So how can we help you to stay in it?” asks Oliver.

“What do you think it is that makes QualityPartner so successful?” asks Patricia, posing a counter-question to the auditorium. “Many people think it’s down to the user profiles being automatically generated from person-specific data. Just one kiss gives us access to all the relevant information. It couldn’t be easier. But even more crucial, I believe, is that from the very beginning we haven’t allowed our users to change their profiles.”

“Stopping people from lying about themselves,” interjects Oliver. “That was the key breakthrough in the partner selection process.”

“And of almost equal importance,” continues the QualityPartner boss, “is the fact that the system takes over this onerous task. Our users don’t have to waste time thinking about who they like the look of. QualityPartner tells them who their best fit is. One person. One perfect match. Job done.”

“I’m sure you all know the old QualityPartner slogan: ‘Love at first click,’” says Oliver. “I find it too twee. We have to place more emphasis on the advantages of a coupling system free from human error.”

“SoleMates!” suggests one of Sandra’s colleagues.

“SoleMates…” says Oliver. “Not bad.”

“Quality is Priceless!” calls another.

“Actually,” says Oliver. “I wasn’t thinking of one specific slogan. I want lots of slogans. I want a chick who goes for beefy black guys to see a beefy black guy on the screen, and a guy who likes chubby redheads to get his chubby redhead.”

Suddenly, Oliver remembers the chubby redhead standing next to him on the stage, and regrets not having spent more time preparing his speech. He could probably have found a more appropriate example.

“I want the first genuinely personalized advertising campaign in the world!” he continues hastily. “I don’t want a campaign. I want eight billion of them!”

Excited chatter breaks out in the hall.

“As you may know,” says Patricia Team-Leader, “for some years now we’ve even matched up the life expectancies of our customers. And so successfully that social networks like Everybody are full of stories about QualityPartner couples who didn’t just die in the same year or month—of which there are many—but on the same day or even in the same hour. I think it’s a lovely feature, especially for older customers. You should definitely emphasize that.”

A few weeks ago, Sandra had edited a news item about a QualityPartner couple who died in the very same minute. However, they both died in a car accident that cut their lives short by thirty-two years, hence why some sticklers later commented that this very well-coordinated double death couldn’t possibly be regarded as a further QualityPartner success.

“Who of you is registered with QualityPartner?” asks Oliver, looking out into the audience.

Sandra hesitates. Only once she sees that almost all of her colleagues have raised their hands does she raise hers too.

“So, to all those who’ve been living under a rock,” says Oliver, “I recommend you sign up as quickly as possible. The registration and first partner are free! You can, of course, try your luck in the analogue world—but if you do that you’ll probably stay single. It’s so probable, actually, that our campaign should try to establish ‘analogue’ as a synonym for single.”

Oliver points toward a balding older man who is sitting next to Sandra. “You at the front, Anton Tax-Adviser, right?” Oliver asks in such a way as to imply he remembers the names of his employees, but of course it’s clear to everyone that his contact lenses have superimposed the name.

“Yes?” asks Anton.

“You didn’t raise your hand just then,” says Oliver. “Can I ask you why you’re not registered with QualityPartner?”

“I, erm, I’ve been married for seventeen years.”

“You see, I think that’s where the problem lies,” says the QualityPartner boss. “The old ad agency concentrated on singles, on analogues, without even questioning it. An unforgivable mistake. I, on the other hand, see all couples who didn’t find each other through QualityPartner as amongst our target groups as well.”

“For these people, the campaign should focus on the fact that there’s definitely a better partner for them out there,” says Oliver, before turning back to Anton. “Don’t you ever get that feeling sometimes? That you’ve settled?”

“No, actually I don’t,” says Anton.

“Then I can guarantee you that your wife does,” says Oliver with a laugh.

Chuckles from the audience. Anton Tax-Adviser sinks down into his seat.

“Just try it,” says Oliver, holding a QualityPad close to his employee’s mouth.

The contents of the device’s display are projected onto a large screen. As soon as Anton’s lips hesitantly touch the display, the system only needs 1.6 seconds, thanks to RateMe, to find the best possible match. Everyone watches as QualityPartner compares Anton’s calendar with that of the new partner and sets a first date for the day after tomorrow. The system also reserves a table at a suitable restaurant and displays the menu: cream of pumpkin soup, risotto with prawn substitute, and caramelized FaSaSu.

“Caramelized FaSaSu?” asks Oliver with disgust.

Anton nods with embarrassment.

“Well, make sure your health insurance doesn’t get wind of that.”

The audience laughs again.

“Anyway, one person who most definitely will not find out about your date is your wife,” says Oliver, swiping across his QualityPad. “She has plans to meet her friend Diana at the cinema on Fiveday. QualityPartner will let you know in good time when you need to set off home.”

To Sandra, it seems that her neighbor looks rather unhappy.

“You don’t have to worry,” says Patricia Team-Leader to Anton. “We may only offer you one person, but from the very beginning QualityPartner provides its customers with a fourteen-day returns policy, in case someone isn’t content with their new companion. The first replacement partner is completely free. But because hardly anyone makes use of it, now we even offer—and I think the campaign for the younger target group should concentrate on this—a premium service with a life-long return guarantee. This offer, called PartnerCare, is available for a very reasonable monthly fee. The best thing about PartnerCare is the automatic upgrades, because of course individuals change sometimes, and grow apart from their partners in the process. If that happens, we immediately suggest a new partner. Having said that, researchers have found that we humans don’t change as much as we used to, mainly because we’re only surrounded by people who think exactly the same as us. And I can tell you, not without an element of pride, that we have played our part in that.”

“Now, who of you would like to register for the new premium service PartnerCare?” asks Oliver.

Sandra hesitates. Only once she notices that almost all of her colleagues have raised their hand does she raise hers too.

Her boss looks at her. He nods. Without a word, he holds the QualityPad in front of her face. Sandra shuts her eyes, then kisses it.