This Sociological Life

Your flat that night looked less like a home and more like a seminar room that had lost an argument with itself: Candour's risk map pinned beside Hume's draft lecture title, red circling the same streets Jonah had once described, cheerfully, as "just a load of numbers."

"Sociology was supposed to be the thing that explained a society to itself," you said, half to Jonah, half to the room. "Comte thought it would replace superstition with reason. He didn't say anything about what happens when the reason gets sold to the highest bidder."

Jonah didn't look up from the staff list. "So which one of them decided the facts were worth more as a weapon than as an explanation?"

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