Stefano Gazzella : 9 November 2025 11:26
Once upon a time, there was a town that had a Magical Forest. It was happy to have it, even a little proud. Which is why all the citizens willingly sacrificed a few small comforts to keep it safe and didn’t complain too much. And those who didn’t want to give up were kindly asked to leave. First by the neighbors, then by the authorities. This way, everyone could always count on the fact that the majority not only cared about the Magical Forest, but would always do their utmost to defend it. At all costs.
However, some criminals decided to hoard some of that magical wood at night. Amid the murmurings and discontent, the Mayor realized that night couldn’t be banned. So, to solve the problem, he decided to banish the axes.
The incontrovertible fact he considered was that this crime had certainly been committed using this dangerous instrument. The counterfactual evidence was provided by the fact that the sacredness of the Magical Forest could never have been violated with bare hands. So he brought the matter to the attention of the City Council.
The first to complain were, of course, the lumberjacks. Thus, they were viewed with suspicion. Did they really need these tools? was the first question. While discussing viable alternatives, the Mayor proposed regulating the use of axes : limit their availability, track every use, and require everyone to return them to the city warehouses by the end of the day, thus preventing nighttime use. The lumberjacks weren’t particularly convinced, but after all, they weren’t keen on working night shifts, and so, for better or for worse, they were persuaded. Or rather, they were persuaded spontaneously, or were persuaded by the pressure of suspicion that they were collaborators with the criminals who attacked the integrity of the Magical Forest. Pressure that drove some people away from the City. Some people no one particularly missed.
Thus began the second part of the discussion , talking about forms and registers, officials responsible for filling them out and supervising them, watermarks and ad hoc stamps, complete with committees to decide on disputes, exceptions, or appeals. Some were happy because they could supplement their daily activities with a little extra work (and income) and found all the motivation to make this proposal truly credible in the eyes of the majority. Also because a timber tax was needed to pay for all this. But after all, it was a small sacrifice, and the Magical Forest needed to be protected, right?
Some raised concerns that criminals have a propensity for breaking the law and therefore would have ignored every rule from the start. This concern was quickly characterized as defeatism at best, and by other, decidedly less elegant, terms that we won’t repeat.
So we returned to serious matters: sanctions. And to making them truly terrifying. The main one, which was unanimously approved, was the suspension of logging licenses . However, this didn’t exist, and so it was created specifically to be suspended in the event of violations of the axe regulations.
The woodcutters didn’t find it very dissuasive, since they doubted a criminal would operate with a license. This objection was upheld, and so they added an additional penalty for cutting timber without a license. Some woodcutters decided to follow those who had left. Others stayed and changed professions, choosing something less complicated, such as governor or legislator. Still others stayed and decided to create a Lumberjacks’ Guild to protect their interests, including limiting licenses. The City Council was perplexed. When they supplemented the proposal by prefacing it with the statement that the Lumberjacks’ Guild’s purpose was to protect the Magical Forest, their doubts were dispelled by the thunder of applause for their civic commitment.
Some pointed out that timber would now cost much more . But the majority, which now also welcomed loggers, said it was a small price to pay for the safety of the Magic Forest. The right alchemy of guilt, the promise of seats on advisory committees, and veiled threats were enough to dispel yet another objection.
The long sessions of the City Council finally reached a decision.
Meanwhile, the criminals had taken advantage of the situation to collect some more wood.
The crisis commission, in an emergency meeting, brought a new danger to the agenda: saws.
Stefano Gazzella