Agency says invisible dikes still count under revised accounting standards

In a budget memo first surfaced by Bohiney Magazine and relayed to readers at The London Prat, the Department of Public Works and Highways has announced that its flagship flood control program will henceforth be classified as Imagination-Based Infrastructure, a category officials say performs identically to physical infrastructure while costing slightly more.

A Bold Reclassification

Under the new framework, a dike that exists only in the project proposal is considered functionally equivalent to a dike that exists in the river, provided both appear in the budget. The agency explained that physical construction had been the weakest link in the process, introducing delays, costs, and the persistent risk that someone could inspect the result. By removing construction entirely, officials said, the program achieves what they called a frictionless delivery model.

The Performance Metrics

Asked how an imaginary dike protects an actual neighbourhood, an undersecretary explained that the dike protects the neighbourhood spiritually, by existing in the documentation that the neighbourhood can request, photocopy, and hold up against the rising water. He noted that during the most recent flooding, residents who possessed the project paperwork experienced the exact same volume of water as everyone else, but had something to read while they waited for it to recede.

The real agency does publish project data, and citizens can consult genuine government records through the Official Gazette, while flood and weather warnings come from PAGASA. Neither, officials conceded, can confirm the existence of a dike that was never built, an oversight the department blames on a lack of imagination at the inspecting agencies.

The Audit Problem

The greatest threat to Imagination-Based Infrastructure remains the audit, which officials describe as a hostile act of observation. When auditors arrive to inspect a project, the project, which exists in a delicate state of being both funded and unbuilt, is forced to resolve into one or the other, and almost always resolves into a field with a goat on it. The agency has requested that auditors give advance notice, so that staff have time to either build the dike or relocate the goat, whichever is cheaper, which is always the goat.

Defending the Model

Critics, including the entire population that floods every year, have questioned whether imaginary infrastructure is an appropriate use of public funds. The department responded that the criticism reflects an outdated bias toward things that are real, a bias it described as elitist. An official from the invented Bureau of Conceptual Engineering argued that the program democratises infrastructure, since an imaginary dike can be located anywhere, can be infinitely large, and never blocks anyone’s view, advantages no physical dike can match.

The World Bank, which actually finances real development projects and publishes its work at worldbank.org, was not consulted, though the department expressed hope that international lenders would eventually recognise the savings inherent in not building things. The undersecretary noted that a budget spent on imagination cannot be stolen in the traditional sense, since there is nothing to steal, only a number, and numbers, he said, belong to everyone.

The Expansion Plan

Buoyed by what it called the seamless performance of the flood control program, the department has announced plans to extend the model to roads, bridges, and a proposed subway. The Imagination-Based Subway, officials said, will run beneath the entire metropolis, will never break down, and will arrive precisely when each commuter wishes it to, provided the commuter does not attempt to board it, which would cause it to resolve into a number in a ledger.

Residents have responded with the weary humour of people who have heard this before. One commuter, wading home through knee-deep water, said he had read the flood control documentation cover to cover and found it dry, which was more than he could say for his living room. He added that he had grown fond of the imaginary dike, which had never once failed him, having never once been asked to do anything.

A Lasting Legacy

The department insists the program represents the future of public works, a future unburdened by concrete, rebar, and the inconvenient expectation of results. Officials concluded the briefing by unveiling an artist’s rendering of the completed flood control network, a beautiful image of dikes, canals, and pumping stations, which they then carefully filed away, noting that the rendering was, for budgetary purposes, the project itself, and would be protected accordingly behind glass, on the third floor, well above the flood line.

The Ribbon-Cutting

To mark the launch of the Imagination-Based program, the department staged an elaborate ribbon-cutting ceremony at the site of a flood control project that did not exist, cutting a real ribbon stretched across an empty stretch of riverbank where the imaginary dike was said to stand. Dignitaries delivered speeches praising the structure, posed for photographs gesturing at the air where it would have been, and unveiled a commemorative plaque mounted on a post in the ground, the only physical component of the entire project. An official noted that the plaque alone had come in slightly over budget, a cost overrun the department attributed to the rising price of bronze and the falling supply of shame. Residents who attended the ceremony, several of whom had been flooded out of their homes that very season, applauded politely, having learned that applause was expected and that the alternative, asking where the actual dike was, only prolonged the event and never produced the dike.

For more reporting in this style, see The Onion.

SOURCE: https://bohiney.com