‘Truth’ is not subjective

Once upon a time, a fox with a large bushy tail and a disingenuous smile changed his name from Reynard to ‘Chicken Little’ and applied for a post in a local hen coop. During the interview for the position, which was conducted by members of the Scottish National party, he wore red plastic wattles, which he had won in a Christmas cracker, sellotaped to his chin – although he needn’t have done so. Simply to identify as a chicken was more than enough for the thick-as-mince panel members.

However, it was pointed out that Reynard – to mis-species him for a moment – had used this ruse before and eaten almost an entire coop of chickens and given the rest as presents to close relatives. The chickens now awaiting the arrival of Reynard, and their fox-exclusionary supporters in the media, pointed this out with some alarm and the panel was forced to reconsider its decision. While Chicken Little was undoubtedly a chicken and definitely not a fox, he would not be allowed to take up new employment in a hen coop on account of his past record with regard to chickens.

It then became clear that several other foxes, all inexpertly disguised as chickens, were applying for the same position. As the furore grew, the thick-as-mince panel decided that they too would be excluded from the shortlist. But they still insisted these creatures were chickens. ‘If they are no different to chickens, why have they been excluded? Have any chickens who have been nasty to other chickens been excluded?’ a sharpish interviewer enquired. But even from the most senior of the thick-as-mince panellists, there was no coherent response.

Meanwhile everybody else in the country looked at this debacle and thought to themselves: ‘Nobody really believes Reynard is actually a chicken.