The Bans

He had studied the data; the numbers were crystal clear. He had spoken to scientists; the psychologists, biologists, and sociologists were all in agreement. He had listened to his political advisors; to a man, they believed it would look proactive and caring. Most of all, he had followed his own conscience: The angel on his right shoulder had shouted down the devil on his left. It was, simply, the right thing to do.

And so, on his first day in office, the new president issued Executive Order 4589–29, banning online gambling.

In his speech to the nation, he said, “I know some of you will dislike my executive order, but please be considerate of your fellow citizens. The numbers and the science have spoken: Up to five percent of the population has a genetic predisposition to gambling addiction. For that five percent, online gambling could ruin their lives. It has already ruined so many. Therefore, this is the only moral thing to do. We must save them from themselves.”

The next day, in his morning briefing, once again he studied data. Once again, he spoke to scientists, and once again he listened to his political advisors and to the angel on his shoulder. And so on his second day in office, the new president issued Executive Order 1502–01, banning all use of marijuana.

In his speech to the nation, he said, “Please, I beg of you: Think of your fellow citizens. I know many of you have no interest in marijuana. I know others among you can use it responsibly. But my policy advisors have shown me case studies. In those studies, folks began to smoke marijuana, then they smoked it more and more until eventually, it had taken over their lives. They spent all their time thinking about it. They spent all their money to buy it. They’re far from the only ones to whom this has happened. So, you see, I’m left with no choice: The only thing to do is to ban it.”

That’s the way it went seemingly every day of his first month in office. Every morning, scientists and advisors presented him with data showing that some activity or substance or ideology was harmful to a small percentage of people. But every life is valuable and every life is precious, and if his executive orders saved even one life, it would all be worth it. So, in short order, guns were banned, since not everyone could use them safely. Religion was banned when the president got word that some congregations took religion too literally and used it to fuel their hatred of others.

One day, a scientific study came out that caffeine was “the world’s most abused drug.” Then, eventually, stories emerged of men and women who drank so much coffee that it affected their sleep at night. The interest groups and philanthropies came out in droves, except this time they weren’t saying, “If it saves one life.” The new refrain was: “If it saves one night’s sleep.”

Coffee was banned with executive order 72–2291.

With coffee banned, muffin sales dipped. People no longer could buy coffee, so they no longer needed a sweet, crumbly pastry to go with it. Nevertheless, a study came out that said the sugar in muffins could contribute to obesity.

For the new president, the order to ban muffins hit particularly close to home. He loved muffins, but that was precisely the trouble, for he had little willpower and sometimes ate three in one sitting. He had put on 25 pounds in recent months. He needed the full power of the federal government to save himself from himself.

Over the next year, computers were banned because they caused screen fatigue for three percent of users. Cars were banned after a slight uptick in auto accidents. Golf was banned after a fluke day in which three men were hit in the head with golf balls and passed away.

Water was banned in the summer, when drownings went up. Heat was banned in the winter when six furnaces throughout the country exploded in one week. It was cold in places like Minnesota, of course, and the people who lived there suffered all winter. But not one furnace explosion took a life in Minnesota, and so the ban — on heat, in a Minnesota winter — was deemed a success, and the new president, became more popular than ever.

If you enjoyed this story — and even if you didn’t — you should check out my book, Ticketless: How Sneaking Into The Super Bowl And Everything Else (Almost) Held My Life Together.