//------------------------------//
// Chapter XI: Well, That's Just Your Opinion! 
// Story: PRAT 
// by Integral Archer 
//------------------------------//

Due Process leaped out of bed and looked at the clock: it read 1:00 a.m. What, thought he, outraged, only one in the morning? What was taking the day so long to come?

He skipped to his kitchen to make some warm milk. Having shotgunned the beverage and chewed on some ice to assuage the resulting burns on his tongue, he climbed back into bed. A long while later, or so it seemed to him, he looked at the clock again: it read 1:10 a.m. What, thought he, only one in the morning? What was taking the day so long to come?

He repeated this process till dawn. Twice he had to fly down to the convenience store to replenish his store of milk.

“It looks as if you had a rough night,” said Princess Celestia, a few hours later, in the auditorium of Canterlot High.

“Hm?” said Due Process. “I . . . no!” He fell to his knees to pick up a piece of paper that the fluttering of his wings had knocked from the desk. “No, not at all, Your Majesty! On the contrary: I’m hopeful.”

“Hopeful?”

“Yes, hopeful. I think we have a chance.”

Princess Celestia laughed in her gentle, maternal way. She was surprised to note that Due Process features unusually contained no traces of a rancorous reaction.

“I thought you said we had no chance of winning.”

“That’s what I thought too, but . . . well, Your Majesty, call me crazy, but I could’ve sworn that when I was delivering the closing statement yesterday . . . I could feel something close to comprehension in the room. I think that not only did the commissioners understand, but they know the people understand too. You remember how they applauded when I finished yesterday? The PRAT is first and foremost a political entity, motivated by politics, and even they, I think, should find it hard to go against what is the obvious desire of the people.”

“We shall see,” said Princess Celestia, for the commissioners were now entering the room.

For the first time in the proceedings, it was not necessary to enjoin the crowd to order. The commissioners entered in silence; they exchanged a few brief whispers among themselves in silence; they scribbled in silence; Petty Nicety cleared her throat in silence.

“Hearty Bucks v. Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns,” she said, “decision: Having heard the oral arguments of both the applicant and defendant, the Tribunal has reached an opinion. My comments now shall be only a brief summary: a full case document, with summaries and references shall be made available to the public, in the atrium after the proceedings or at the Tribunal’s headquarters, in either case for the low, low price of one hundred bits.

“The complainant alleges that he faced discrimination in services on the basis of race from the defendant. In response, the counsel for the defense has alleged that the discrimination was made lawfully, claiming that the requirement that resulted in discrimination based on the Code-protected ground of race was of a bona fide nature.

“The complainant has alleged that his interview for studentship at the School was abruptly cut short after the interviewer said he could not be considered on account of his being an earth pony. The complainant has produced a letter that he alleges was written by the dean of the school, confirming the sentiment expressed by the interviewer. As the defense has not rebutted this allegation, and as the dean himself admits to have written this letter, we accept it. In our opinion, this is enough to establish a prima facie case against the defendant.

“The counsel for the defense alleges that such a discrimination was made properly, the requirement of being a unicorn being, in the defense’s opinion, bona fide. The question that seizes the Tribunal is whether or not this is the case.

“The Supreme Court of Equestria, in Special Snowflake v. Furniture & Sundry Ltd., established the test for a bona fide occupational requirement. For a bona fide occupational requirement defense to be successful, the defense must show that the requirement:

“1. was adopted in good faith, in the belief that it is necessary to fulfill a legitimate work-related purpose,

“2. was adopted for a purpose or goal that is rationally connected to performing the job,

“3. and is reasonably necessary to accomplish the work-related purpose.

“There was no disagreement among us regarding point one: We do not doubt the sincerity of the defendant. At no point in the complainant’s case was any sign of maliciousness of heart evident. We found the wording of the curriculum, and the quotes of the designers of the curriculum, compelling in this regard. It may, of course, be, and was, argued, that the curriculum and its designers have its origins in a time where gross injustices were commonplace and accepted without a second thought; however, whether that’s the case in the present circumstances does not concern point one—that question is the one asked by points 2 and 3.”

Petty Nicety paused. Everypony in the room could have sworn they heard a faint knocking sound somewhere; but so quiet, so distant, it seemed, that it was impossible to say whether it was in the room, somewhere in the depths of the building, or whether it existed at all. They didn’t know it was one of Due Process’s feet, tapping nervously against the floor; he looked as if something was on the verge of ripping him apart from the inside.

“Points 2 is not so easily resolved. That question hinges purely on what is meant by the word rational. Unfortunately, in this particular instant, no established test can give us guidance in this matter. Therefore, it seems prudent that the Tribunal, in determining what constitutes rational, should default to the reasonable pony test: we ask ourselves what a reasonable pony would consider rational.

“We agree with the complainant that a belief, by virtue of its being common and widespread among the intelligentsia, does not necessarily make it rational; indeed, throughout history, many thinkers, widely lauded for their intellect, have held beliefs we know today to be irrational. The state of rationality is not subject to consensus, and a generally rational pony can hold several irrational beliefs. The relevance to the case at hoof is: given the evidence, is being a unicorn a rational connection to performing the tasks required of a student at Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns?

“The defense has asserted that it is a rational connection; since nopony has been able to present any colorable evidence of an earth pony’s performing magic, it is therefore reasonable, in the defense’s view, to conclude that being a unicorn is rationally connected to the tasks of the School’s syllabus. Here, it seems to us, the defense is asserting that the absence of evidence is evidence of absence; the defense is predicated on this supposition. Despite there being generations of philosophers who have asserted the contrary, it is not in the nature, scope, or authority of the Tribunal to decide such complex metaphysical matters. But until the philosophers have settled that question, the Tribunal must give the benefit of the doubt—that there is indeed a rational connection between being a unicorn and performing unicorn magic—until such time as it is determined that such a line of induction is faulty.

“I can’t take it!” yelled a mare somewhere in the back of the room; she got up from her pew and bolted to the exit. Petty Nicety waited for the door of the auditorium to come to before resuming:

“It was hardest for us to come to a consensus regarding Point 3. It should be noted that in this matter, a true, objective evaluation is impossible. Scientific philosophy has definitely established that, to establish necessity, an overwhelming body of evidence, collected across a range of diverse experiments establishing cause and effect, constitutes necessity—but it can easily be seen that applying this methodology to determine whether a certain case of discrimination on a protected ground is impossible, for it is impossible for anypony to step outside the realm of his prejudices and experiment in a realm completely devoid of racism; therefore, as usual, we most limit ourselves to the reasonableness test.

“To resolve this issue, we were satisfied that a sufficient disproof of the defendant’s claim that the requirement of being a unicorn is bona fide would be a single, independently verifiable case of an earth pony performing unicorn magic; indeed, this would demonstrate that only prejudice and social conditioning are what has discouraged and prohibited earth ponies from this art. Though, in our examination of history, there have been a few reports of earth pony magic that, in our opinion, would warrant a closer examination, we were unable to find a single case whose veracity would hold under the rigor of a legal tribunal. Therefore, we consider it ‘reasonable’ to conclude, given the absolute dearth of evidence that an earth pony can, or has, performed unicorn magic, the defense holds under Point 3.

“Therefore, the Tribunal, being satisfied on all three points as per the test, considers the claim of a bona fide occupational requirement put forward by the defense to be valid.”

“Yes!” cried Due Process, soaring into the air as if propelled by a spring whose tension had suddenly been released. His access was taken up by the spectators, and they too roared: it was a mixture of laughs, screams, jeers, and cries, but there was an undoubtable tone of jubilation under it all.

“We did it, Your Majesty!” said he; and forgetting all his propriety, he hugged her, and went even so far as to kiss her. “We did it! I knew we could! See? Your faith wasn’t misplaced!”

Somewhere in Due Process’s mind was the question as to why the princess wasn’t as enthusiastic as he—some nagging doubt, easily drowned out by the flood of ecstasy. But if he had pursued that line of questioning, he would’ve have noticed that Princess Celestia was not looking at him or at the crowd: she was looking at the commissioners, who were shouting something that could not be heard for the clamor of the crush, and at Res Judicata, who seemed more assured of herself than ever.

“Mr. Due Process!” Petty Nicety screamed, during a slight attenuation of the noise level. “Would you let the Tribunal finish?”

“I’m sorry!” said Due Process, sitting back down. “I’m sorry! Please forgive me.” He went quiet, but he was unable to hide his grin.

When the volume of the room subsided enough to allow Petty Nicety to be heard—it was quite obvious at this point that they would never again be able to achieve a silence—she continued:

“However, the Tribunal has not forgotten that the bona fide occupational requirement defense is just that—a defense, not a right. That the defendant’s claim passes all the tests prescribed by precedent does not mean that the defense did not engage in any illegal discriminatory behaviors—only that we take the defense into consideration.

“Though, in the Tribunal’s opinion, no direct evidence can be found of illegal discrimination manifesting in any of the defendant’s actions, one must not be wilfully ignorant of historical context: one must remember that not too long ago, it was common, even expected, that every attempt an earth pony made to improve his or her living conditions, by pursuing employment and education, would be stymied by an unconscious, deep-seated prejudice which, though alleviated by the great efforts of the earth pony community over the last century, still insidiously persists to this day. Having the facts of the case laid out before us, it is obvious to the Tribunal that, in rejecting Mr. Hearty Bucks, the School found itself content in an expectation of docility and compliance from him as an earth pony. This attitude undoubtedly stems from the long history of regarding earth ponies as inferior. The number of complaints we’ve been receiving has been only increasing; this is evidence of those in power’s evident refusal to accept the progressive advancements that have been achieved in such a short span of time. If they cannot resist overtly, they do so covertly by plausibly deniable affronts. The Tribunal considers the facts before it to evince such an affront on a balance of probabilities, and the Tribunal would be derelict in its duty if it let this injustice go without further comment.

“Consequently, the complaint is accepted. The Tribunal orders—”

“What?!” The screech was Due Process’s. He hovered high, high above the rest of the crowd, so high that the top of his skull beat against the roof. As he was looking forward, he couldn’t see that several pegasi in the crowd had taken up his reaction; added to the cacophony of laughs and jeers was now the sound of skulls hitting wood.

“The Tribunal orders,” shouted Petty Nicety, “that the defendant pay the complainant a sum of ten thousand bits, for injury to dignity, feelings, and self-respect!”

“This is outrageous!” shrieked Due Process, landing on the floor, his wings failing him.

“We are no longer seized of this matter,” said Petty Nicety.

“But you said!” gasped Due Process. “You said the defense was valid! The defense is valid!”

“I said we are no longer seized of this matter!”

“I’ll give you a matter to be seized of!” cried Due Process, leaping onto the desk and reaching for the zipper to his trousers.

He was on the verge of producing the deciding piece of evidence when he heard somepony clear her throat. He turned and saw Princess Celestia looking up at him. The dignity of her bearing and the placidity of her features struck him—but it was the fact that he saw absolutely no reproach or rancor that melted him. She looked at him in a fammilial, almost maternal, assurance, such that he could not but climb down from the desk, bow his head, and pin his ears.

“What does ‘not seized’ mean?” piped up Hearty Bucks. “Does that mean we can get ice cream now?”

“Of course, sweetie,” cooed his mother.

“Yay!” he chirped. “I love you, Mommy!” Then, breaking out of his mother’s embrace, before she or Res Judicata could stop him, he galloped over to the defendant’s table.

“Princess,” he said, beaming with the unadulterated bliss only an uncorrupted child can effect, “my mommy is taking us out for ice cream. Do you come with us?”

“She can’t!” shrieked his mother, running over to him and grabbing him by a hoof. “She’s busy.”

“Aw, come on!” said Hearty Bucks.

“I’m afraid your mother is right,” responded Princess Celestia, laughing. “Please forgive me, my dear, but I have business to attend to. Perhaps some other time.”

“Come on; why not?” complained the little complainant as his mom and lawyer dragged him away. “Is there not enough money again, Mommy? I can share some of my ice cream with the princess if there’s not enough.”

“No, that’s not it, sweetie” said Res Judicata. Her words addressed Hearty Bucks; but she turned back with a smirk and the volume of her voice was much too loud for the ear of her client right beside her to listen comfortably, such that Due Process knew that the comment was meant for him. “It’s just that this res has been judicataed.”

Due Process’s ears twitched at the laughs to which Res Judicata and Hearty Bucks’s mother gave cackle to, which seemed to linger in the air long after they had left.

“Res judicata,” he mumbled to himself between clenched teeth. “That makes no sense! It’s already past tense. You wouldn’t say: ‘The matter has been decideded’!”

Princess Celestia beside him chuckled. And suddenly, at the sound of her appreciation of a comment made only for himself, a raw, burning sense of self-consciousness and shame enveloped Due Process: he thought of how he had addressed himself to her when they’d first met; how he had pontificated, as if he were an authority, during the carriage ride to Canterlot High for the first time; how he had behaved during the Gala, when he had held himself to be one of the gentry at one point in the evening, and some stud, at another; how, during the Tribunal’s proceedings, he had talked and talked and talked, unaware of how ridiculous he had appeared, not caring that he had been in fact saying nothing, not knowing that they were all aware of it.

“I . . .” he stammered briefly; and, without another word, he took off, unable to withstand, for a microsecond longer, the insupportable burden of having to stand before the world.