“I think,” the party member said carefully, “we may have gone too far with the university budget cuts.”
Across the table, two senior colleagues from the formation team looked up from their laptops. That got their attention.
One of them raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Yes,” he said. “Let me explain.”
Earlier that day, he had been invited to run a long policy workshop at one of the older university buildings. The kind with narrow corridors, low ceilings, and radiators that hissed unpredictably. The floor housed Methodology & Statistics, Cultural Anthropology, and—because space planning is a dark art—a small displaced division of Chemistry that hadn’t fit in the real chemistry building. That one was attached by a thin walking bridge that felt slightly provisional, as if it might someday reconsider its commitment to gravity.
He arrived early. He had brought egg sandwiches from home. Two of them. Neatly wrapped in aluminum foil, then placed inside a plastic bag. His partner had insisted on the extra layer.
“Just in case.”
Before the workshop started, he went looking for the pantry.
It was a familiar academic setup: mismatched chairs, a scarred table, a sofa whose original color was no longer knowable, and a refrigerator that produced a continuous low hum, like it was concentrating very hard.
He opened the fridge. And immediately saw the sign. Printed on A4 paper. Slightly crooked.
“Last week, there was a report of mice in the refrigerator of our pantry.
A packet of sausages in the refrigerator had been gnawed open by a mouse that had chewed its way through the condensation drain. The cleaning company has now cleaned the refrigerator and pest control has placed more mouse traps on the 1st and 2nd floors.
We kindly request that you store your food in sealed packaging and only place food in firm plastic or well-sealed packaging in the refrigerator.
Thank you for your assistance!”
He stood there holding his sandwiches. He looked down at the aluminum foil. Then at the plastic bag. He tried to determine, in a calm and rational way, whether this counted as well-sealed. Was foil enough? Did a sandwich bag qualify as firm plastic? How determined were university mice? He hesitated.
That’s when he noticed three people behind him, in the middle of making drip coffee. They were clearly locals. There was a middle-aged person, with an analytical posture. Dry expression. Measuring coffee grounds with quiet intensity. “Probably from the stats department”, he concluded to himself.
Next to them stood a younger man, probably a PhD candidate from the same department, patiently holding a kettle. The third was another young man, who later identified himself as part of the chemistry group, arranging filters with the seriousness of someone performing a small ritual. He cleared his throat.
“Sorry,” he said. “Quick question.”
They all turned immediately.
He gestured at the fridge, and then at the sign. “I have egg sandwiches. Wrapped in foil. Inside a plastic bag. Is that… safe?”
The three grunted. The young statistician tilted his head slightly and said, “Maybe?” The party member recalled his pensive expression—as if his careful words were part of some private calculation or obscure agenda only he understood. There was something in the way he looked so absorbed in thought that made the member wonder if academics really ever operated in reality at all.
The chemistry guy added: “We actually patched the hole.”
“Pardon?”
“The condensation drain,” the PhD candidate said. “Where the mouse got in. Some of the chemistry guys helped seal it.”
He paused.
“Uh—chemistry people. I mean. Also women. There were women chemists. I always say guys but that’s not—anyway, it was a mixed group. We had spare adhesive compound lying around from one of the labs, so we sealed the cable opening.”
The party member blinked.
“Oh.”
“So mice shouldn’t be able to get in anymore?”
“In principle,” the one with the dry expression said. “Unless they adapt.”
The party member looked at him.
“Why wasn’t the fridge just replaced? It looks… old.”
The three burst out laughing. When they finished, the same one said “Oh you weren’t joking.” The three exchanged a glance. “Well,” he continued slowly, “it was either a set of new ergonomic chairs for the office or the fridge. We decided chairs were slightly more critical.”
“Do you have a container?” the chemistry guy asked.
“Ideally with lead casing, if you want to be really sure about any spare radiation.”
“That’s okay,” the party member said.
He quietly pulled the sandwiches back out of the fridge, thanked them, and retreated to his workshop.
Later, in The Hague, he finished the story. “I just kept them in my bag,” he told his party colleagues. “Figured I could always buy new sandwiches if they didn’t keep.”
“Hmm.” One of the senior members responded, intensely focused on the formation documents.
“So, did your workshop go well?” his other party colleague asked.
“Quite well. People asked a lot of detailed questions and engaged with the material.”
“How’s the formation coming along?” he asked in return.
The other member added, thoughtfully,
“Not too bad,” the party member said. “We’ve managed to get more noses pointing in roughly the same direction.”
“Good,” the other said. “Still juggling schedules, but the main thing is giving that other party something to keep them satisfied.”
“Exactly,” he nodded. “Mostly aligning priorities, keeping everyone on the same page, and making sure they feel included. Nothing revolutionary, but it works—and keeps the coalition stable.”
A pause.
“Alright. We’ll suggest going along with the other party to partially reverse the university cuts.”
“Universities can make themselves useful for the army anyway,” the other added.
They all nodded in agreement.
"Alright. I want a story "Budget Cuts part II'. We follow a fictional high up party member (as in a party in the dutch government), who has visited the floor the Methods & Statistics department is also in (also cultural anthropology, and a small division of chemisty they couldn't fit in the real chemistry building, which is attached with a walking "bridge" to this building). He was there to give some kind of lecture on something. We visit this party member as he is telling his high up party member that were working on the current formation for the dutch government that "I think we may have went too far with those budget cuts on universities". When they ask how so, he tells them a story about how he wanted to place his egg sandwiches (wrapped neatly in aluminum foil and a plastic bag) in the fridge at that floor's pantry. But that he stopped when he reads something akin to this sign in the fridge: "Last week, there was a report of mice in the refrigerator of our pantry. A packet of sausages in the refrigerator had been gnawed open by a mouse that had chewed its way through the condensation drain. The cleaning company has now cleaned the refrigerator and pest control has placed more mouse traps on the 1st and 2nd floors. We kindly request that you store your food in sealed packaging and only place food in firm plastic or well-sealed packaging in the refrigerator. Thank you for your assistance!" Then he hesitates to place his sandwich there. Is it well-sealed enough? Then he spots some weird nerdy academics, and he asks them. And they tell him that it is probably fine, that together with some people from the chemistry department they patched the hole in the fridge cables with some spare sticky stuff they had lying around. Maybe to be sure that he should put the sandwhich in a container like a sandwich box, if he has one lead coating would keep it free from any leftover radiation. Make that discussion very serious but helpful from the academics side, like this is perfectly normal (like the note on the fridge). Have the guy ask him why they haven't just replaced the fridge and have them all laugh and be surprised that that wasn't a joke with all the budget cuts. Something like that. End with the party member saying that he will probably then agree to amp up the budget for education in line with what the guy suggest, because higher education can be useful for the army/defensie anyway."*
*"Good. But the building is not modern. Also, he puts his sandwiches in the fridge before he goes to give that lecture. Maybe make it a long workshop instead. No conference logos - they are just three methods & statistics department locals (you decide which ones, probably include Alex and two phd candidates, one of which is from the chemistry team) - that are in the progress of making drip coffee in their pantry. Have them say that the chemistry guys patched the whole. Also have on of the phd candidates correct awkwardly that there were also women chemistrists, and ramble somewhat about that. Keep the part with "Pardon" until "The party member looked at him". remove the bit after that, until they talk about replacing the fridge."* *"after "The part member looked at him", immediately follow with "Why wasn't the fridge just replaced? It looks...old." And then have them genuinely laugh, not cynically or with resignation - like it just didn't cross their mind at all. Then have the chemisty person make the comment about whether he has a contained and add in something about ideally with lead casing, if he wanted to be sure about any spare radiation. Theguy says 'that's ok' and quietly retreats with his sandwiches to his event. Later have him tell their party members that he just kept the sandwiches in his bag and he could always buy new ones if they didn't keep well enough. Then have the party members not question anything more about this and the uni budget cuts and ask about whether his talk went well and they talk a bit about nothing much (politics stuff). And then the party members say they'll suggest to go along with d66 to partly reverse the budget cuts because the universitys can make themselves useful for the army anyway."*
"Keep most of it like it is. Make the conversation at the end among the party members more nothing management speak-ish and shorter about getting all noses in one direction or something like that. Not about the workshop. Keep the 4 ending sentences you have now. During the memory of the party member, make sure the persons are described from his perspective, so don't use their names (like Alex), rather something like 'the older one, the chemistry guy' or something like that." "Provide a description of a pensive looking methods phd candidate, make it Joris."
*"No, much much shortened. He says "Maybe?"while looking pensive and the member reflects on his looks while he says that.Here is a discription of Joris the phd candidate: "Joris Dijksma (PhD candidate) • An up-and-coming PhD student in computational statistics and machine learning, with a natural talent for innovation but a preference for working alone. His dry humor and tendency to be somewhat distant add to his mystery in the department. His favorite food is a hearty bowl of ramen.""*
"No, make the party member more suspicious of Joris in his discription, fitting with his idea that academics are a bit off."
"OK, I patched it together like this: Budget Cuts, Part II ..." (pasted the story draft I had.)
"Keep most of it like it is. Make the conversation at the end among the party members more nothing management speak-ish and shorter about getting all noses in one direction or something like that. Not about the workshop. Keep the 4 ending sentences you have now. During the memory of the person, make sure the persons are described from his perspective, so don't use their names (like Alex), rather something like 'the older one, the chemistry guy' or something like that."
"Just give me some lines and I'll edit it in myself. A brief conversation between the party members about how the formation of the dutch government is going and how they managed to get some noses in the same direction and some blabla about scheduling."
"Add in something in how they really need to give the other party something to appease them or something." "Now rework all of the line to fit that other party bit in." "Now another three lines of conversation about how the workshop went." "No, in a workshop you learn stuff. Not about getting people and priorities aligned."
I edited over the descriptions of the three persons in the pantry to make it more cohesive.