Fable
After a mirror that can write official documents enters the city, city rules must be clearer than the mirror
The prefectural city had newly cast a batch of bronze mirrors that could inspect documents for the government offices, estimate disaster conditions and assign craftsmen. Every bureau competed to obtain a mirror: the household office used it to check grain registers, the works office used it to schedule bridge repairs, and the academy used it to review admission applications. At first the prefect thought that the more mirrors there were, the faster city affairs would run.
Before long, trouble arrived. The workshop mirror ranked the oldest bridges last because it looked only at repair counts; the academy mirror favored the children of wealthy city households because their records in the old registers were more complete; the household office mirror produced results, but no one knew whom to go to when it was wrong.
Someone suggested smashing several mirrors. The prefect did not agree. He asked each office three things: which decisions this mirror is used for, who gets hurt if it errs, and who has the authority to change the rules and deactivate it. Most officials could not answer.
So the prefectural city established a mirror affairs committee. Before a new mirror went into service, it had to write down its purpose, boundaries, the old registers it used, the reviewer, and the appeal route; high-impact matters had to be stamped by a person before release; old mirrors were reviewed quarterly to see whether they favored certain neighborhoods and whether they kept decision records.
The mirror affairs committee also handles accountability. The mirror gives suggestions, but the staff member still has to explain the reasons for adopting them; if citizens have objections, they can see which window they should go to; if the mirror makes repeated errors, it is first downgraded for use, then the source is investigated.
The prefect first set up a mirror registry. Each mirror recorded its purpose, the people affected, the evidence that could be checked, the official responsible, the conditions for deactivation, and the review date. The various offices found it troublesome, but once something went wrong, they finally knew who to go to for changes instead of shifting blame to the bronze mirrors.
The prefect later decreed that new mirrors must undergo a hearing before entering the city. If a mirror only gives suggestions, the rules are lighter; if it affects money and grain, school admissions, and disaster relief, then stricter review, appeals, and suspension arrangements are required. City affairs may use mirrors to speed up, but city rules cannot trail behind mirrors patching holes.
Years later, the prefecture did not use bronze mirrors less—it used them more steadily. The prefect said what the city needed was not a mirror that never errs, but a set of rules for public instruments that determines where they may be used, how they are supervised, who is responsible, and when to stop. The deeper mirrors enter governance, the more indispensable these rules become.