The Court of Harmony

Mr. Riverton threw off his covers, stretching out the stiffness of sleep before making his way downstairs. His eyes drawn to his brewed coffee, forgotten from last night, now cold and untouched.

Stepping outside, the morning sun peaked through the cover of grey clouds, the streets condensation frosting the lawns. A small figure cycled past the ever-cheerful Vincent, pedalling furiously as he completed his paper route, tossing folded newspapers onto stoops with practiced precision and a cheerful greeting.

“Morning, Mr. Riverton!” Vincent smiled joyful, waving as he slid a fresh newspaper onto the steps.

Riverton nodded in appreciation, picking up the paper and flipping it open. His fingers brushed against the bold headline, the words memorable and definitive:

“The Court of Harmony: The People vs. The Power A Case of Choice vs. The Illusion of Protection.”

The Quinn Cormwell Court would host today’s hearing, a case where decisions were once debated, not blindly accepted.

Riverton exhaled slowly. This one was going to be interesting.

He went about his usual morning, toast in the toaster, eggs sizzling on the stove top. He stretched out his arms, rolling his shoulders back, settling into his morning Pilates routine.

The TV played softly in the background, just noise at first. Until

“Live from Quinn Cormwell Court, The Tribunal of Free Will is now in session,” the broadcaster announced.

Riverton paused mid-stretch. He turned to face the screen.

The grand courtroom came into view. Completely packed, tight with curious tension. Murmurs rose from the crowd, unease hanging in the air.

Riverton barely noticed the smell of his burning toast drifting through the kitchen. He wasn’t thinking about his breakfast anymore.

This wasn’t just another trial. This was about freedom itself.

A loud bang echoed through the courtroom as Judge Berty slammed his gavel onto the table. The sound cut through the lingering whispers, pulling everyone’s attention to the front of the room.

Harriett Uberman, the bailiff, stepped forward with a sharp glare. "Quiet in the court!” she commanded.

The people quickly settled. Tension smothered the air, thick and full of anticipation.

Judge Berty took a steady breath, looking around at the faces before him some full of doubt, others brimming with quiet frustration. He leaned forward.

"This court is now in session. The People vs. The Power a trial to decide the fate of freedom itself. But more importantly what is freedom? And whose eyes should we look through to understand it?”

The silence stretched. And, Across the courtroom, people shifted in their seats. Some nodded, believing rules and guidance kept things in order.

Others sat stiff, hands clenched, refusing to accept a world where their voices no longer mattered.

Lines were being drawn.

This was more than just a trial, it was a turning point.

Marley James stood as the prosecutor, representing The People.

"Your Honour, we come before you today with a troubling case an attack on choice itself. Freedom, reduced to nothing but the illusion of control.”

As Marley James started warming up, he continued his opening arguments.

"The Government claims that advertising is responsible for bad decisions, unhealthy habits, and rising obesity. They point fingers at ads for simple things such as ham and salad sandwiches, of all things, rather than addressing the real issues at hand.”

"The Defence will argue that restrictions will ‘protect’ citizens, I ask, but at what cost? At what severity? And, to what end?”

"Do we still have freedom, or will it soon slip away lost to us, much like the Library of Alexandria?”

Marley James looked on at the jurors.

"Will we still have the right to decide for ourselves, or is freedom slowly being altered and manipulated chipped away bit by bit, until we forget we ever had it?”

Alannah Heatable stepped forward as the Defence for The Government’s Advocate.

Shooting Marley James a sharp glare, eyes burning with intensity a silent attempt to intimidate the prosecution.

With a steady breath, she cleared her throat and straightened her jacket and corrected her posture, before confidently beginning her argument.

"Your Honour, our aim is simple. The protection of the people.”

"If bad choices, such as substances or even processed foods, continue to be advertised freely, consumers will keep making poor health decisions.

Is it not our responsibility to shield them from danger, even if that means protecting them from their own ability to freely choose?”

A wave of gasps spread through the courtroom, followed by others, who gave shocked scoffs and bursts of hushed conversation.

The reaction was immediate people shifting in their seats, heads shaking, whispers turning into heated murmurs and frowned faces.

The room was split now more than ever.

Some looked outraged at the suggestion that the community wasn’t capable of making its own choices that their decisions were somehow wrong just because they didn’t align with what someone else deemed correct.

It wasn’t just about food. It wasn’t just about advertising. It was about control.

And beneath all the noise, an important question dipped in silence sat plainly

"Who gets to decide what’s right and wrong? And by whose opinion do we measure good and bad?”

"It feels like personal responsibility is treated like a disappearing act as if banning exposure to something is the same as solving the problem. It’s easier to say, ”The advertisement made me do it,” than to confront the reality of choices, consequences, and self-awareness.

Instead of encouraging education, self-discipline, and informed decision-making, society leans toward the easiest fix, restrict, censor, and pretend the issue disappears.

So what’s next? Shopping catalogues? Considering they showcase sugar and salt-loaded specials more than nutritional options, are we going to start regulating discounts on indulgences too?"

Marley James spoke with conviction his words passionate, heartfelt, undeniably for the people. But not everyone saw it that way.

Some sat rigid, their expressions doubtful, trapped in their own assumptions. They couldn’t fathom how anyone could stand against the mighty Government.

"They are our protectors,” one jury member declared firmly, as if the very idea of questioning them was absurd.

Another leaned in, whispering to his neighbour, shaking his head uncertain, conflicted -torn between loyalty and truth.

Some in the room found themselves drawn to both sides each argument held weight, each perspective had merit. And still, beneath the debate the deeper question remained.

"Are we truly making decisions that matter, or are we simply accepting blanket bans and the illusion of protection?”

Marley James continued his argument "Your Honour, this trial isn’t just about a ham and salad sandwich advertisement,

it’s about the bigger picture. So instead of distractions with trivial matters, let’s focus on logic.

If advertisements truly held that much power, wouldn’t we all be mindless consumers, buying up everything we’ve ever seen on Television and social media platforms?”

"Would catchy jingles from childhood dictate our destiny? Should we abandon self-awareness entirely and accept the idea that exposure alone determines behaviour? At what point do we stop blaming influence and start taking responsibility for our own decisions?

Because if we never learn how to navigate choices, how do we grow as individuals?

If we keep regulating choices under the illusion of ‘protecting people,’ what happens when the restrictions extend beyond food? Beyond advertising? Beyond tangible things? What happens when opinions, emotions, independent thought are conditioned?

When limitations start shaping who we are and who we are allowed to be?”

The Defence cut in sharply, with an ear-splitting voice.

"But exposure shapes behaviour, does it not?”

The courtroom stirred some nodding in agreement, others frowning, sensing the weight of the statement.

It was an argument that sounded convincing on the top surface. Simple. Direct. But was it really that black and white?

The Prosecution refused to back down, agitated by the lack of care for the core issues the Defence showed.

"Then let me ask this if limited exposure truly changes habits, why doesn’t this logic apply to government propaganda? Political advertising? Mass persuasion? Does selective restriction only work when it’s convenient? Because, here’s the truth, restricting things doesn’t change behaviour.”

"I understand this" Marley James continued, offering a personal past experience as an example.

"I was 125kg an absolute 'chunkasaurus'. And it wasn’t because advertisements brainwashed me into eating or tricked me into making frowned-upon choices. It was because food is, and always has been, delicious. I was taught to eat for every occasion:

- Hungry? Eat.

- Happy? Eat.

- Sad? Eat.

- Horny? Eat.

- Bored? Eat.

- Depressed? Eat.

- Celebrating? Eat.”

The only time I didn’t eat was when I was angry. Marley James leaned closer to the courtroom, lowering his voice, And honestly, can you picture Hulk pausing mid-rage to sit down to sip soup.”

The jurors leaned forward, intrigued yet unsettled, exchanging glances, uncertain where to land between logic and regulation.

An echo of laughter stirred through the courtroom part shock, part agreement, part unexpected amusement and the tension had momentarily shifted. Even the Judge cracked a tiny smirk, though quickly concealed beneath judicial neutrality.

James pressed on, driven by his beliefs and passion for simple freedom of choice.

"Your Honour, choices matter. Freedom matters. Instead of addressing emotional regulation, we just normalize indulgence. Instead of tackling the deeper issues behind unhealthy habits, we scrutinize sandwich ads and call it progress. Another scapegoat. Another surface-level blame game disguised as a solution. When do we stop shifting the responsibility and actually teach people how to make informed choices?”

The room fell into a tense silence the weight of his words sinking in.

Alannah Heatable seized the moment, taking control of the courtroom with unshaken confidence. “A humorous observation,” the Defence smirked with a condescending demeanour, "but the matter remains!

Regulation prevents harm,” she argued, her voice cutting through the tension."

Cold and direct Alannah snapped "Consumers aren’t always rational.

And, Advertising plays on impulse, encouraging advertisers to take advantage of human nature, encouraging bad choices, unhealthy habits. People are susceptible to being misled.”

She paced slightly, addressing the jury directly.

"Education programs? Alternative solutions? Those would cost money. A burden that falls on taxpayers, hardworking community members. Blanket bans, on the other hand, are not only cost effective but they are necessary. It’s the simplest way, the best way and the only way to protect the public before damage is done.”

Marley James took a steady breath, shaking off his frustration.

“Your Honour, regulation without education is merely restriction disguised as wisdom. People don’t learn by having choices erased they learn by understanding consequences.

A way to pass the issue around like political ping-pong, waiting for someone else to deal with it.

The conversation is never about educating moderation, alternative choices, empowerment, or a genuineness for real change. Just regulation. Because regulation is easy.

And it allows those in charge to appear proactive rather than actually addressing root causes.”

Marley James paused, taking a moment before directing his point at the contradictions.

“while the Defence argues that advertising shapes consumer decisions, I ask, do they not rely on the very same techniques to influence policies, messages, and public perception. So again I will argue, if limiting exposure truly alters behaviour, why doesn’t that logic ever apply to them?”

Reflecting on his own past bad choices vs self awareness, Marley James confessed.

“I have made bad choices, and I have had bad habits and I learned to make better decisions. Isn’t that how freedom works?”

Marley turned slightly, scanning the jury, his gaze steady.

“Now I wonder when rules are signed off, aside from the forced conformity, do decision-makers even realize how short-sighted these policies are? I fear maybe we have become, simply too distracted to notice?”

The jury exchanged uneasy glances, and shocked gasps. Some let out mumbles of frustration, others shook their heads, unsure what to think. And then Karen stood up.

“Are we seriously debating this?” she huffed, hands on her hips, looking around for support. So now we’re just letting anyone say anything?”

Across the room, Sue the easily overwhelmed juror wobbled in her seat. Her face was pale, her hands shaky as she held onto her armrest. “I just… I can’t… it’s too much,” she whispered, voice faint.

And then down she went.

Histeria filled the courtroom as Sue dramatically collapsed, like a helpless damsel fainting at the horrors of reality.

Karen barely glanced at her. “Oh, for gracious sakes,” she sighed, waving a hand like she was shooing away a fly. "What nonsense" Karen hissed under her breath.

The room echoing with clashing opinions some agreeing with Karen, others rushing to help Sue, who lay completely limp, fully committed to her collapse. Only one thing was clear people saw freedom very differently.

Judge Berty cradled his chin, deep in thought, absorbing the day’s arguments. Did limiting exposure truly protect society, or did it simply strip away the power of choice? The debate had been clear, the back-and-forth relentless both sides had their merits.

The courtroom sat in expectant silence, tension thick in the air.

Judge Berty, unsure how to rule, exhaled slowly, then stood up, adjusting his robes.

“Court is adjourned.”

The gavel slammed, echoing through the room.

And as the crowd shifted, waiting for more, he offered only one final thought “All I know is… this isn’t what I signed up for.”