The best minds are not in government. If any were, business would

Host: The conference room was bathed in sterile fluorescent light, the kind that makes truth look sharper than it should. Through the glass wall, the city glowed beneath the late evening haze — a constellation of office windows still burning long after human endurance had clocked out. The faint hum of air conditioning filled the silence, constant and impersonal.

Jack sat at the long table, jacket off, tie loosened, a laptop open before him and two empty coffee cups beside it — trophies of exhaustion. Across from him, Jeeny sat with her notebook, pen resting lightly in her hand, her eyes studying him rather than the presentation glowing on the screen.

Jack: “You know what Reagan once said?”

Jeeny: “Which quote are we defending tonight?”

Jack: (smirking) “‘The best minds are not in government. If any were, business would steal them away.’”

Jeeny: “Ah, cynicism with a suit and tie.”

Jack: “No. Realism with a profit margin.”

Host: Her eyes narrowed slightly — not in anger, but curiosity. The kind of look that meant she was about to challenge everything he just said.

Jeeny: “You really believe that? That government’s where intelligence goes to die?”

Jack: “Not die — get buried under paperwork.”

Jeeny: “You think business is any cleaner?”

Jack: “Cleaner? No. Smarter? Usually.”

Host: He leaned back, the chair creaking beneath him, a small mechanical protest in the silence.

Jack: “Look around. Innovation, disruption, progress — it all comes from companies, not committees. Business rewards creativity. Government punishes it with red tape and meetings that never end.”

Jeeny: “And yet, it’s government that keeps those companies from eating people alive.”

Jack: “Regulation doesn’t save people. It just slows the inevitable.”

Jeeny: “You sound like a man who thinks ethics are bad for business.”

Jack: “Not bad — inefficient.”

Host: The tension thickened, but not like hostility. It was the dense electricity of two ideas colliding in midair.

Jeeny: “You forget what business was made for, Jack. It wasn’t to improve the world — it was to profit from it. And when profit becomes purpose, everything else — morality, humanity, even truth — becomes negotiable.”

Jack: “And government isn’t corruptible? Please. Power’s the same disease — just with worse branding.”

Jeeny: “The difference is intent. Government, at least in theory, exists for the public good. Business exists for shareholders.”

Jack: “And yet, government still needs business to function. Every project, every technology, every rescue plan — funded by private enterprise, designed by people trying to make something better and make a living.”

Jeeny: “And when that private enterprise collapses — who cleans up the mess?”

Jack: “Taxpayers.”

Jeeny: “Exactly. The people government was meant to protect.”

Host: The rain began to tap against the glass behind them — slow, rhythmic, patient, as though the world outside was eavesdropping on their argument.

Jack: “You talk like idealism can fund hospitals.”

Jeeny: “And you talk like cynicism can heal anything.”

Host: He stared at her then — the sharpness in his expression fading into something closer to fatigue, or maybe recognition.

Jack: “You ever worked inside the system? The government, I mean.”

Jeeny: “I have. And yes, it’s slow, bureaucratic, maddening. But I also saw people who gave up comfort for service. Who stayed late not because of bonuses or stock options, but because they still believed one decision could help someone they’d never meet.”

Jack: “Noble. But naïve.”

Jeeny: “No. Necessary. Because if cynics stop believing, Jack, all we’re left with are opportunists.”

Host: The light from the city flickered on their faces — two worlds reflected in glass: one lit by ambition, the other by duty.

Jack: “You think the best minds should go into government then?”

Jeeny: “I think the best minds should go wherever they can make people’s lives better — and not just their own.”

Jack: “So, if you had a choice — a brilliant engineer, a visionary leader — would you rather see them designing a new iPhone or fixing public infrastructure?”

Jeeny: “I’d rather see them fixing trust.”

Jack: “That’s not a job title.”

Jeeny: “It should be.”

Host: The words landed like a quiet strike — not loud, but irreversible.

Jeeny: “You know what Reagan really meant, Jack? He wasn’t mocking government. He was exposing how society values intellect only when it profits someone. We glorify the visionary CEO but mock the civil servant. We forget that both hold the same raw potential — to build or destroy.”

Jack: “And business builds faster.”

Jeeny: “And forgets faster too.”

Host: The room dimmed slightly as the storm outside thickened. Lightning flashed briefly, illuminating their reflections in the glass — two silhouettes against a skyline built by both dreamers and accountants.

Jeeny: “Government fails when it stops attracting the best minds. Business fails when it stops serving more than itself. We need both.”

Jack: “Balance. You always come back to balance.”

Jeeny: “Because that’s the one thing neither sector has mastered.”

Host: He smiled faintly — weary, but softened.

Jack: “You know, I used to believe business was the purest test of intelligence. No ideology, no politics, just results.”

Jeeny: “And now?”

Jack: “Now I think maybe intelligence isn’t the same as wisdom. The first builds systems. The second questions them.”

Jeeny: “Exactly.”

Host: The rain quieted. The city hummed beyond the glass, its towers and streets glimmering like circuits in a living machine — powered by ambition, sustained by belief.

Jeeny: “Reagan wasn’t wrong about the best minds. But he missed something.”

Jack: “What’s that?”

Jeeny: “The best minds aren’t just the smartest. They’re the ones that remember why they think.”

Host: He looked at her then — the argument done, the echo of truth settling between them like a shared confession.

Jack: “So maybe the real tragedy isn’t that business steals the best minds…”

Jeeny: “…but that government stopped giving them a reason to stay.”

Host: They sat in silence. The city outside continued its restless glow, powered by thousands of unseen decisions — some for profit, some for people, most for both.

And in that still room, surrounded by reflections of progress and decay, the truth of Reagan’s words shimmered — not as cynicism, but as warning:

That intelligence without conscience becomes ambition,
and leadership without service becomes empire.

Because the best minds don’t just build —
they remember who they’re building for.

And when they forget,
no government, no business,
and no future
can truly call itself wise.