"Perhaps. My mathematical analysis implies that order must underlie everything, however disorderly it may appear to be, but it does not give any hint as to how this underlying order may be found. Consider-Twenty-five million worlds, each with its overall characteristics and culture, each being significantly different from all the rest, each containing a billion or more human beings who each have an individual mind, and all the worlds interacting in innumerable ways and combinations! However theoretically possible a psychohistorical analysis may be, it is not likely that it can be done in any practical sense."
"What do you mean 'psychohistorical'?"
"I refer to the theoretical assessment of probabilities concerning the future as 'psychohistory.' "
The Emperor rose to his feet suddenly, strode to the other end of the room, turned, strode back, and stopped before the still-sitting Seldon. "Stand up!" he commanded.
Seldon rose and looked up at the somewhat taller Emperor. He strove to keep his gaze steady.
Cleon finally said, "This psychohistory of yours... if it could be made practical, it would be of great use, would it not?"
"Of enormous use, obviously. To know what the future holds, in even the most general and probabilistic way, would serve as a new and marvelous guide for our actions, one that humanity has never before had. But, of course-" He paused.
"Well?" said Cleon impatiently.
"Well, it would seem that, except for a few decision-makers, the results of psychohistorical analysis would have to remain unknown to the public."
"Unknown!" exclaimed Cleon with surprise.
"It's clear. Let me try to explain. If a psychohistorical analysis is made and the results are then given to the public, the various emotions and reactions of humanity would at once be distorted. The psychohistorical analysis, based on emotions and reactions that take place without knowledge of the future, become meaningless. Do you understand?"
The Emperor's eyes brightened and he laughed aloud. "Wonderful!" He clapped his hand on Seldon's shoulder and Seldon staggered slightly under the blow.
"Don't you see, man?" said Cleon. "Don't you see? There's your use. You don't need to predict the future. Just choose a future-a good future, a useful future-and make the kind of prediction that will alter human emotions and reactions in such a way that the future you predicted will be brought about. Better to make a good future than predict a bad one."
Seldon frowned. "I see what you mean, Sire, but that is equally impossible."
"Impossible?"
"Well, at any rate, impractical. Don't you see? If you can't start with human emotions and reactions and predict the future they will bring about, you can't do the reverse either. You can't start with a future and predict the human emotions and reactions that will bring it about."
Cleon looked frustrated. His lips tightened. "And your paper, then?... Is that what you call it, a paper?... Of what use is it?"
"It was merely a mathematical demonstration. It made a point of interest to mathematicians, but there was no thought in my mind of its being useful in any way."
"I find that disgusting," said Cleon angrily.
Seldon shrugged slightly. More than ever, he knew he should never have given the paper. What would become of him if the Emperor took it into his head that he had been made to play the fool?
And indeed, Cleon did not look as though he was very far from believing that. "Nevertheless," he said, "what if you were to make predictions of the future, mathematically justified or not; predictions that government officials, human beings whose expertise it is to know what the public is likely to do, will judge to be the kind that will bring about useful reactions?"
"Why would you need me to do that? The government officials could make those predictions themselves and spare the middleman."
"The government officials could not do so as effectively. Government officials do make statements of the sort now and then. They are not necessarily believed."
"Why would I be?"
"You are a mathematician. You would have calculated the future, not... not intuited it-if that is a word."
"But I would not have done so."
"Who would know that?" Cleon watched him out of narrowed eyes. There was a pause.
Seldon felt trapped. If given a direct order by the Emperor, would it be safe to refuse? If he refused, he might be imprisoned or executed. Not without trial, of course, but it is only with great difficulty that a trial can be made to go against the wishes of a heavy-handed officialdom, particularly one under the command of the Emperor of the vast Galactic Empire. He said finally, "It wouldn't work."
"Why not?"
"If I were asked to predict vague generalities that could not possibly come to pass until long after this generation and, perhaps, the next were dead, we might get away with it, but, on the other hand, the public would pay little attention. They would not care about a glowing eventuality a century or two in the future.
"To attain results," Seldon went on, "I would have to predict matters of sharper consequence, more immediate eventualities. Only to these would the public respond. Sooner or later, though-and probably sooner-one of the eventualities would not come to pass and my usefulness would be ended at once. With that, your popularity might be gone, too, and, worst of all, there would be no further support for the development of psychohistory so that there would be no chance for any good to come of it if future improvements in mathematical insights help to make it move closer to the realm of practicality."