"Little Miss Wood, you are now asking me to solve an ethical question that's been unanswered for more than ten thousand years." I smiled wistfully. "I am not—repeat not—big enough to answer the following question: 'Shall a killer in the confessional, who has been given absolution by his God, subsequently be punished by his fellow man?'"
"But what has that to do with it?"
"Let's have you answer one: 'Could you truly bare your secret soul to God if you suspected that some prying human being was taking it all down on a tape recorder?'"
"No, I suppose not."
"Then our 'Thought Police' would be standing as a human barrier between any man and his God."
"I suppose so—but couldn't I tell?"
"Tell?"
"Tell whether someone was listening to my thoughts?"
That was another stumper. Does the sign wear out any faster if it's read? Can the radio transmitter be measured to tell whether the broadcast has any audience? Does the tree that falls in the forest barren of animal life generate the same wave-motion as it would if all the leaves were replaced by active eardrums? There are lots of analogs, but are any of them valid?
I said, "If I cry out, how can I know whether I am being heard?"