These revelations are duly followed by grave tsk-tsking and chin rubbing and hand-wringing about how these vitally important issues are still being mishandled and even ignored by the government. The commissioners are officially thanked for their diligent efforts and given commemorative paperweights with the wrong middle initial. The president and the relevant cabinet secretaries and government officials pledge to give the commission’s recommendations “the most serious consideration” (which is to say, none whatsoever), and everyone goes back to ignoring and mismanaging the vital issues.

Six months later, one of the ex-commissioners writes a pained and well-argued op-ed piece in The New York Times, complaining that nothing-not one single recommendation-has been acted upon. Whereupon a junior White House press secretary issues a pained, not-very-well-argued statement saying this is simply “not the case.” Moreover, that as a result of the commission’s “fine work,” a number of things have been done, though he is not at liberty to go into the details. Moreover, further study is needed, as this is-“indeed”-an issue of vital importance not only to the nation, but to all nations. And that’s the end of it.

The TATA Commission, on the other hand, was proceeding rather differently. The proceedings themselves were eminently watchable. One pundit pronounced it a new kind of reality TV show, where instead of being voted off the island, you were voting to kill the contestants.

The pros and cons of Transitioning, which had started policy life as a notional “meta-issue,” were being fiercely debated on live television and beamed into millions of American homes. The names of the commissioners, most of whom had been obscure Washington lobbyists and special interest advocates, were now familiar, and none more than Randolph K. Jepperson, Cassandra Devine, and her sparring partner, the Reverend Gideon Payne. As these pugilistic spectacles wore on, the public’s view of Transitioning was evolving. More senators had come over to the pro side, though the anti side was hardening. But a surprising 38 percent of the American public now favored having the option of being legally euthanized in return for huge tax breaks and subsidies. Posters were going up: UNCLE SAM WANTS TO KILL YOU!

“The chair recognizes Foggo Farquar, chairman of the President’s Council of Economic Advisers,” Randy said. “Mr. Farquar, good morning. You were asked by this commission to study the economic impact on the U.S. Treasury of the Transitioning proposal?”

“Yes, I was.”

“And what were your findings?”

Mr. Farquar took out a large binder whose contents were projected onto a screen in the hearing room.

“The so-called Baby Boomer population cohort,” he said, “numbers approximately seventy-seven million people born between 1946 and 1964. Given the rate at which they are currently retiring and withdrawing funds from Social Security, as well as the Medicare and Medicaid systems, we estimate”-the next slide showed a series of bar graphs, all the color of deep red-“that Social Security will exhaust its resources approximately two and a half months from now.”

“From today?”

“As of noon. Yes.”

“That’s not very desirable, is it?”

“I would call it very far from desirable, Senator. But those are the numbers. They do not lie.”

“Have you then run the numbers in the event that Transitioning becomes the law of the land?”

“Yes. As I was requested to, by this commission.”

“And?”

The next slide showed more bar graphs, all colored black.

“According to our projections-at the direction of this commission-in the event only twenty-five percent of retiring Boomers opted to, um, Transition at age seventy-”

The commissioner representing ABBA interjected, “They would of course have the option to do so at age seventy-five.”

Cass rolled her eyes.

“Yes,” said Mr. Farquar, “though that would of course significantly decrease the savings to the Treasury. In the event, the savings to Social Security based on Transitioning at age seventy would be…approximately eighteen trillion dollars over seventeen years.”

“Are you then saying,” Randy said, “that for each one percent of Boomers who Transition, that would save the United States Treasury about one trillion dollars?”

“Approximately, yes.”

“Mr. Chairman,” Gideon interjected.

“I’m not finished questioning the witness, Reverend Payne. I’ll yield when I am finished. Thank you for your patience.” Randy returned to his witness. “That’s quite a savings to the Treasury, is it not?”

“Yes. Of course, the total savings would be offset by the tax benefits the government would be offering in exchange for Transitioning-the elimination of death taxes, free medical, and the other benefits described in the bill. Those benefits,” Mr. Farquar said, looking toward the various Boomer special interest commissioners, “do seem to be increasing as the bill progresses. At any rate, the overall impact of Transitioning would be, yes, decisive and consequential and indeed beneficial to the government in terms of revenue outlay. I mean, inlay.”

“Are you saying in effect that this would save the Social Security system?”

“Oh yes. Absolutely. Social Security would become solvent. Something it has not been for a very long time. You understand, Mr. Chairman, that I take no position on the issue. I’m just a simple numbers cruncher.”

A ripple of soft laughter went through the chamber.

“Thank you for crunching, Mr. Farquar. Your witness, Reverend Payne.”

Gideon said, “Mr. Farquar, you have a degree in economics, do you not?”

Randy leaned forward into his microphone and said, “Reverend Payne, Mr. Farquar is one of the country’s most eminent economists. He is the president’s top economic adviser. I think we can take it for granted that he has a degree in economics.”

“I did not mean it as an insult, Senator Jepperson. But since we as a nation are in deplorable economic shape today, I thought I would just inquire.”

Another ripple of laughter.

“We’re not here to harass our witnesses, Reverend Payne,” said the chair. “Proceed with your questions.”

“Senator, I well understand the purpose of this august body. Mr. Farquar, I apologize for my frankness. But we are here, after all, to study a most grave issue. As it were.”

“I appreciate that, sir.”

“So you’re saying, Mr. Farquar, that this…Transitioning is the…final solution to the Social Security crisis?”

An awkward, embarrassed murmur went through the hearing room.

Cass had been anticipating this. A few days ago, Terry had said to her and Randy, “Sooner or later he’s going to call us all Nazis.”

“Reverend Payne,” Foggo Farquar said, his face reddening, “I am most certainly not saying that.”

“But you implied it. You did say this would finally solve the problem.”

Cass broke in. “Mr. Payne”-she steadfastly refused to call him “Reverend”-“why are you comparing Mr. Farquar to Adolf Hitler?”

“I am merely trying to let some light into this miasma of moral degradation to which you have led us, Miss Devine.”

“This isn’t the Wannsee Conference, Mr. Payne. We’re not talking about exterminating six million Jews, Gypsies, homosexuals, Catholic priests, and mentally disabled. We are talking about a voluntary program by which Americans could opt to do something altruistic, even noble, on behalf of their children, in the face of intractable irresponsibility by the federal government.”

“Your nobility is showing, Miss Devine.”

“Mr. Chairman, permission to question the witness.”

“Proceed.”

“Mr. Farquar,” Cass said, “am I correct that your wife’s family emigrated from Poland in the 1930s?”

“Yes, they did.”

“And why was that?”

“They were fleeing Nazi persecution, on account of their being Jewish.”