Optimizing the Planet in Fifty Words or Less

"What's your plan, Molly?"
 
I stared at Jeremy, my loyal and intensely irritating husband for the past thirty-four years. I wanted to pretend that I didn't know what he was talking about, but he knew me too well to let me get away with it.
 
"What's yours?" I countered.
 
He grinned. "You go first."
 
I sighed. "I don't have a plan. The whole thing is insane."
 
"it's an attempt to make things better. A long shot — but a shot. We have to try. The Global Inquiry could trigger a popular awakening. It's the first time everyone on the planet has been asked to participate in decision-making."
 
"And a team of AI programs will make the final decision. I barf at the thought."
 
"The AI team will compile and organize, and formulate a five-year plan. They are not programmed to input anything except what we tell them. Every voice counts. Can't you see that?"
 
"it's nonsense. Even if AI comes up with a perfect plan that's actually workable, there's no way of enforcing it."
 
"No way except good will. We have to count on good will now, Molly. There is nothing else left."
 
I snorted. "Look around you. Good will died decades ago. Centuries ago, if it ever existed at all."
 
"There are good people."
 
"And they get squashed like bugs."
 
"All the more reason to speak up," Jeremy said. "What do you have to lose? Fifty words. Just one good idea."
 
He stood up, walked behind my chair, and kissed the back of my neck in exactly the right place.  
 
"The deadline is at 2AM tomorrow in our time zone," he said gently.
 
I said nothing at all. I walked into the living room and sipped my after-dinner tea while Jeremy loaded the dishwasher. I couldn't help admiring his patience. He was a peacemaker to the core. Every time I tried to start a fight, he would just continue being his pleasant self and trust me to see the light. It usually worked.
 
It was working now.
 
I had planned to spend the evening watching TV or reading the next chapter of Scarlett’s Revenge, which I had foolishly volunteered to review for a member of my writing group. Instead, I sat in front of my computer, trying to formulate a message that would improve the world as I knew it.
 
Where to begin?
 
Stop wars ... 
 
Supply potable water to everyone ...
 
Develop safer and more productive farming methods ...
 
Limit population growth ...
 
Clear the air ...
 
Safeguard the environment for humans and non-humans alike ...
 
Extend basic human rights to everyone, even the inhumane ...
 
All in fifty words of less, without adversely impacting the lifestyle to which I had become accustomed.
 
I pounded on my keyboard, writing and re-writing, editing and re-editing, organizing and re-organizing, agonizing without ceasing.  I had been peddling my work for over two decades, and had even published a book that sold over 760 copies, but this was the challenge to end all chalIenges. I could never compose fifty words that would make a difference. I was a useless slug on the face of the planet, and my absence would free up resources for more worthy individuals.
 
But Jeremy had faith in me. I couldn't disappoint him.
 
At 1:45 AM, I pushed the SEND button and fixed myself a brandy nightcap.
 
I wasn't satisfied with what I had written. But it was something. Better than nothing. At least, that's what Jeremy believed.  
 
We need to meet face-to-face, and talk to each other. Tell our stories, and make up new ones. Refuse to accept doom as the final answer. Move forward together in hope and love and sacrifice. Refuse to believe that nothing can be done.
 
Jeremy should go into politics. He is the most powerful influencer I know. Better than any AI team imaginable, because he cares. He really cares. And when somebody cares, it's contagious.