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The mayor of Utopia City was a well-built handsome man, the sort of man you’d see in a Men’s Warehouse advertisement, with perfect hair, perfect teeth, and a perfectly tailored sense of style.
Like most politicians, the mayor wasn’t as popular as he thought he was, but his approval ratings were north of 50%, which was nothing to sniff at.
He lived on 100 acres somewhere outside city limits, which in past years would have been problematic, legally. His residence, palatial, with swimming pool, movie theater, and an underground bunker, was heavily shielded from satellite by trees.
Each morning he drove into town in his SUV. Some days he saw a residence still smoking from the previous night’s fire, or a local store with newly shattered windows. He’d walk from the parking garage to City Hall and spend the morning working through the endless piles of papers. He had done much to improve the city, but nothing could be done about the paperwork.
At lunch he walked a block to his favorite restaurant, an Italian bistro. Being health-conscious, as all men who strived to live a good life should be, he avoided the pasta except on Friday, his cheat day, and ate a salad instead.
Today, as he walked back to City Hall, a citizen accosted him. It was a bright, clear day, and the other man, well-dressed, like a teacher or accountant, pulled a gun and told him to hand over his keys. He wanted his vehicle and knew where it was parked. He’d been watching the mayor, watching him closely.
The mayor eyed the citizen. He was a good judge of character, and he could tell the would-be carjacker had the nerve to do what needed to be done but had never done it before. So the mayor nodded and reached into his inner jacket pocket. Pedestrians along the sidewalk and those looking through the windows of the convenience store they stood in front of watched to see what would happen.
From the jacket pocket the mayor retrieved a 9mm and shot the concerned citizen five times. The citizen lay bleeding out on the sidewalk as the mayor continued to his office. The onlookers went about their business.
That afternoon, the police chief entered his office. He was there to request more officers.
“What for?” the mayor asked.
“To protect the journalists.”
“Hire what you need. We’ll get the funds somewhere.”
That evening the mayor had a meeting with one of those journalists, a big name from an important paper. The news shows were flashier, but the intellectuals read the old standards. He met the bespectacled gentleman at his office door and walked him back outside, past the bistro (the body had been removed), to one of those Japanese restaurants where they cook the food at the table. As flames rose and the chef’s blade chopped, the interviewer asked the question everyone asked: “The statistics are astounding. In less than a year, murders, arsons, assaults, robberies, drug crimes, everything has fallen to zero. This is the City Without Crime. How did you do it?”
The mayor smiled charmingly. “You just have to understand how the world works.” The cook slid a heap of steak and vegetables onto his plate. “Selling alcohol was only a crime during the Prohibition. If you make a law, you increase the crime.” He took a bite and lifted his chopsticks in gratitude to the cook. “So we got rid of the laws. The City Without Crime. Trust me. Someday, everyone will do it.”