Dissertation Offense/Defense

Rachel gave an internal groan -- the door to conflict was being pried open. Unconsciously her shoulders set more squarely and she grabbed the corners of the table. "Yeah. I think we do. You want to sell people...sorry their data...in order to justify 'monetization of assets' while I'm committed to focusing on how we protect data to prevent abuse. I'd say that...oh, thank you..." She took a sip of the soda that had been placed in front of her. "I'd say that's pretty much opposed."

Ethan grimaced. He needed to keep his temper in check. "Rachel. I'll drop the marshal language if you'll stop making gross assumptions." Her use of idealism as a cudgel was what had annoyed him so much during classes with her. "The fact that a modern, knowledge-based economy values data does not mean that I favor indiscriminate behavior. Hell, even if you assume I did, it wouldn't make sense. Economics 101 says that in order for something to have value it has to be scarce. Thus I would favor protecting data if for no other reason that I'd want to drive up its value before selling it. But I don't think that way. People say..."

"Like hell you don't think that way. Does this sound familiar, 'Ethicists will wrap themselves in a self-righteous cloak woven from an idealistic dismissal of revenue opportunity and consumer acceptance.'? It seems to me th..."

"Christ. I wrote that almost three years ago and...I can't believe you. Whatever you do, you should ignore the fact that the assignment was to write a position piece to be used in a debate format." Ethan was considering throwing in the towel on the whole thing. Sanjit would just have to live with disappointment. "Rachel. You can't honestly tell me that every line of text you wrote for course work represents personal opinion rather than meeting the requirements of an assignment. Shit, if that was the case I'll have to go dig up some of my high school work for you so you can get really pissed at me.

Both of Rachel's palms were facing Ethan. She took a deep breath and said, "Okay...okay. You're right, I was making assumptions and those could be construed as aggressive."

Ethan was still hot under the collar. "Construed my foot! More like just plain aggressive."

"Fine. You're right." She took a long drink of her Diet Coke to collect her thoughts. She'd promised Rajagopalan that she'd try to make the arrangement work. "So how about if we start by talking through our general thesis? No assumptions about the other person's work, just our own. Is that fair?"

Ethan nodded his assent. Her admission came as a surprise; maybe she'd mellowed a bit with time. "Fair enough. Chivalry dictates that ladies go first."

"Lulling me into showing my hand, huh?"

The wary expression on her face was so incongruous with the previous few minutes that he grinned. "Of course not. Would I do such a thing?"

She wished the grin wasn't charming. She said, "Yes. But I'll let you get away with it this time." Her crab cakes arrived and she toyed with them for a moment while she got her thoughts in order. "As you know, I have a protectionist view of how data should be treated. I'd like to take a close look at what people really want or don't want when it comes to data. Most of the literature deals with personal data, but that is too constrained for what I think needs to be discussed."

"Are you thinking about classifying data types? There tons of work already done on that angle."

"Yeah, I know. I'll clearly have to do a full survey and then decide if an existing model can be used or not. Then I can build my research plans from there. I guess my basic point is that what people want and what they know about how data are being used are significantly out of sync. More than that, without adequate protections being put in place, the abuse..."

"'Abuse' is pejorative don't you think? At least as assumptions go?"

"...the abuse will likely continue to expand."

Ethan had finished his garden salad and was considering Rachel carefully. He wondered if she used contacts for working out because the glasses were back on for their dinner. Her hair was still damp and it was leaving dark patterns on the shoulder of her shirt. Somehow she managed to hide herself in her clothes which he couldn't understand given what he'd seen a few hours earlier. It troubled him that he'd been so dismissive of her as a person. Clearly Ling and Phil were really close with her and that counted for a lot. Moreover Sanjit was a fierce judge of character and Ethan knew that the old man thought of Rachel more as a daughter than anything else.

He said, "Well I can see why Sanjit pointed us at each other. Aside from the potential for a spectacle, I have the same need. No matter how anyone feels about the subject, data is being heavily monetized today. It's certainly possible that some traditional business models will fail in favor of data monetization but if we don't understand how social and legal factors apply, then we're going to have a hard time establishing stability that can spark further investment in innovation. So I have to start with a discussion of what kinds of data there are, how it's being used, how people feel about it and whether they even understand it before breaking into the world of business models etc."

Rachel smiled thinking of Sanjit. "Crap! The old manipulator was right as usual. Do you suppose we're going to have to tell him?"

Ethan broke into his heavily-accented impression of their mutual friend once again. "The simple people of a village said that Deepak was wise because he said the sun will rise in the East every single day. The people also said that Deepak was wise because he said the sun would set in the West every single day. But Deepak knew that observing the obvious did not make him wise, it just made him right."

She laughed.

**

The evening had steadily cooled since the mild afternoon and the walk back from dinner was chilly for Rachel. She'd been warm from her exercise and shower before dinner, but now her lack of a sweater or jacket was noticeable. The Nalgene bottle was empty, but having to keep her hand out of her Jeans pocket meant that it was cold as well. She was oddly pleased with the evening. They' managed to talk about their field of mutual interest without arguing. More than that, the whole thing had ended up feeling oddly like a date rather than a meeting and she was puzzled by that. There was no way that he intended anything but a business meeting and she certainly was expecting nothing more. But their discussion on the way back had strayed into unfamiliar territory for them. She'd never talked to him about his life before GW. She knew the scuttlebutt that he had made a killing, but she really didn't know much about him. Now she knew that he'd finished his undergraduate in Atlanta and his MBA at Kellogg. They hadn't touched on anything really personal, but she understand why he had moved back to Chicago.

When they got to the hotel, the lobby was warm by comparison to the evening air. Unfortunately the elevator retained nothing of that warmth, rather it seemed that the air conditioner was still cranked on full force. "What floor?" She asked him as the doors slid shut.

"15. So what time do things get started tomorrow?"

"I believe we have to be down there around 9:30 for a 10 start."

Ethan shook his head. "Academia runs on a different clock from the rest of the world."

"There are bunch of people who flew in from the West Coast and I think the organizer was trying to be thoughtful about..." The elevator gave a shudder and ground to a halt. Rachel looked up at the ceiling and then frowned. There was an additional, unnerving metallic clanking noise. "What the hell was that?"

"Whatever it was, it didn't sound too good." Ethan punched a few buttons. He pushed in the red Emergency Stop button which did nothing more than start a buzzer which only stopped when he pulled it back out. "Interesting. That's obnoxious. Let's see if I can get someone on this." He'd opened a metal cover that hid a heavy black plastic phone. He waited for a moment and then said, "Yeah, uh, hi there. There's two of us in an elevator that seems to be stopped. Uh huh. Maybe a minute now." He listened for a bit. "Alright, thanks. We'll be patient."

Rachel had crossed her arms and she had a concerned look. "What'd they say?"

"He wanted to know if everyone was okay and that they were aware of the situation. They're going to..." The fan stopped whirring and the lights went out to be replaced by blue-ish emergency LEDs. "...reset the system which will take a few minutes."

Rachel wasn't happy. Aside from being cold, she really needed to pee. The two of them stood in the semi-darkness, not knowing what to say, waiting for something to happen. Twenty-five minutes crept by with glacial deliberateness so that when the phone finally rang, they both gave a start.

Ethan answered the phone. "Yeah, hi again. Ethan. ...and you are? Okay Vince, what's the story?" He listened and then asked, "There's nothing you can do? How about prying open the doors and getting us..." He listened again. "Well that sucks. Okay please call when you know something more." He hung up. "It's going to be a while. Apparently something fried on the control system and we're stopped between floors in a way that they can't easily get us. He said if it gets serious they can come in through the ceiling but they'll reserve that for a last resort."

Rachel told herself not to think about her bladder. She wanted to give Vince a piece of her mind and tell him to get them out through the ceiling, or wall, or whatever, but just do it quickly. Yet she knew she had to stay calm. "Wait. Between floors is ridiculous. They should be able to get us from half a door-height on either side of a floor, right?"

Ethan shook his head, "Nope. Apparently the floor with the ballrooms takes up two floors and..."

"Shit." Rachel's good mood had ebbed away. "This is ridiculous."

"Yeah, you said it. Looks like we just have to wait it out." Ethan noticed that she was using her free hand to rub her opposite arm. The Nalgene bottle preventing her from using both hands. "Here..." He took the bottle from her and set it on the ground and then offered his coat. "Put this on."

After triple-checking that he was sure, she accepted the jacket and gratefully shrugged into the sleeves that were still warm from his arms. One of two problems was solved, but her bladder was quickly becoming a top priority. She began pacing back and forth.

Ethan took a seat against the wall nearest the phone. He looked at her in his jacket and was surprised by how much he liked the image. "You know it might be a bit easier of a wait if you didn't try to run a marathon in here?"

"What? No, I'm just preoccupied." Rachel decided to try to distract herself. She knew sitting was only going to make the pressure worse, so she leaned against the wall opposite from Ethan. Minutes ticked by before she finally spoke. "Why'd you go back to school? I mean people all said that you'd had a really successful company. Most people come back for a degree, especially something in IT Management, as a way to start or re-start a career not end it."

Ethan tilted his head back until it rested on the wall. "I hadn't thought of my career as finished, maybe derailed is more like it. Yeah, the company was a success. But I wasn't willing to stay on after the acquisition and be relegated to a program manager instead of being the exec in charge. I kind of got screwed in the deal by my oldest friend and it left me a little lost I guess. So some time away from the corporate game seemed like a good plan and all the better if that time gave me some tools to avoid getting rogered in the future."

Rachel realized that she was approaching the point of no return. Her gut was spamming and she'd die of embarrassment if she soiled herself in front of Ethan. Damn it, she was going to be embarrassed no matter what. Tears of frustration began form at the corners of her eyes.

It became increasingly clear that she was distressed. Ethan mistook her behavior for claustrophobia or concern over the failed elevator. "Hey, hey. What's going on?" He got up but didn't approach for fear that closing the distance to her would only exacerbate her anxiety. "We're going to be fine. The hotel has experts working on the problem. There's nothing to be scared of."

"I'm not scared, I'm about to burst -- between the water after my workout and the diet cokes at dinner..."

Wow, had he misread the situation. He could see the panic in her eyes and knew that she wasn't kidding. He looked down at the big blue bottle on the floor. Looked at her and pointed at it. Rachel wanted to scream it was so humiliating. "No...no way!"

Ethan realized there simply wasn't anything he could say that was going to help. There was only one thing he could do. He turned and faced the wall.

Panic surged in Rachel as she realized she might not even hold it long enough to use the bottle. "Shit!" She clawed at her jeans and jammed her thumbs under the elastic of her panties before pushing both to her ankles. She fumbled with the bottle, unscrewing it as fast as she could. Thank god the opening was so wide. She only partially squatted and jammed the mouth of the bottle up to her crotch. Sweet release.

Panicked urgency abated and was instantly replaced with the horror of the situation. The hissing spray sounded like a fire hose in the cramped space and was succeeded by the pungent, ammonia-ish odor of her urine. She was bare below her waist in a compromised position and Ethan stood motionless not more than two feet away. The moment she was done she screwed the top on tightly and unceremoniously hoisted her clothes back into place. Had the lights been on, her face would have fairly glowed with embarrassment.

She set the bottle next the wall and sat with it behind her as if hiding the evidence could erase the last few minutes. She stared at the floor.

Ethan waited another few minutes and then returned to the spot where he'd been sitting before. He intuited that making any sort of wise-ass comment wasn't a good plan. He could see the flush of her cheeks and knew her to be a proud woman. It was simply best to let the whole thing go. He said, "Do you plan to teach after you finish up the doctorate?"

She nodded.

"Rachel. Don't worry about it. These things happen."

She didn't nod or react and he dropped any attempt to speak, figuring that she would begin when she was ready. After a few minutes, the phone broke the silence. Ethan picked up the receiver. "Vince -- do you have good news for us? Great. Uh, yeah. I'm in 1803 and Ms. Aberleib is in 15..." Ethan looked over at Rachel.

Rachel said "1526" in a flat tone.

"1526. Okay, I'll let her know. Thanks for the call." Ethan hung up again and turned to Rachel. "Should be only a minute or so more. They are going to comp our rooms and tomorrow's meals are on them."

Just then the lights came on and the elevator gave a lurch. A few moments of awkward silence later it stopped at the 4th floor. Rachel grabbed the bottle and mumbled a quick good night. She bolted for the stairwell and left Ethan standing in foyer. He figured he'd see the jacket eventually and pressed the up elevator button until a different car opened up for him. So much for an easy start to the research.

**

The persistent tone of an incoming Skype call interrupted Rachel's train of thought. "Crap." Was all she could say when she realized that it was time for her scheduled call with Ethan. She'd fled the conference after her complete mortification following the dinner with Ethan. Now she was doubly embarrassed as it was ridiculous that she should have let that situation affect her so much. Ethan had been an absolute gentleman. He'd dealt with the situation with as much class as possible.

After briefly considering ignoring the call, she answered. "Hey, Ethan." She had to suppress a smile when she saw him. He was sitting on what looked like a porch or deck. She was looking up at him from a laptop-based camera. Summer looked good on him. He was in a well-worn t-shirt and the faded blue fabric complemented his tan skin. He hadn't shaved in a few days and while a cliché, it gave him a rugged look that she liked.

"Rachel. I'm glad we could make this time work." Ethan had reverted to business mode with Rachel. After seeing her in the gym and then having what he had thought was an enjoyable dinner, everything went to hell. The situation in the elevator had thrown cold water on any headway they'd made from the animosity of their days in class together. They'd only communicated by email since that day and had traded a number of source materials and data sets. But he knew that they had to talk more consistently if they were going to get any results so he'd pushed for the Skype call. He jumped right into work mode. "Thanks for sending over the Tradle and Crabtree paper. I st..."

"Ethan. Sorry, but I need to get something off my chest. I really owe you an apology. The last time we saw each other didn't end well and it was entirely my fault."

The apology had caught Ethan off-guard. "Er. Look, Rachel. Seriously that wasn't a big deal."

Rachel ran her fingers through her hair. "No, that's true but I made it more of a thing than it needed to be and it's irked me since then. I don't know if I'm more embarrassed by what I had to do on the elevator or how I reacted to it. On top of it all, you were a total gentleman about it and then I was...I was childish."

This was a side of Rachel that was new to Ethan. Apologies were not something frequently heard from her. "Okay." He had a feeling that she needed him to accept what she was saying. "I appreciate your saying something."

"Thanks, Ethan." Rachel gave a nod and sat up a bit straighter to signal she was ready to work. "So what did you think of Tradle? I wasn't expecting much from them but there was some good work in there."

Ethan was pleased that things seemed to be back on-track a bit. "Yeah, agreed. I think they could have been more specific about their choice to set aside traditional security practices in favor of privacy controls, but it was helpful for what you mentioned in your mail."

The conversation became steadily more technical in nature and Rachel's comfort level increased. She liked to move while thinking and was constantly getting up and walking around her living room. Ethan, who was content to lounge on his deck, was distracted though she had no idea she was the cause. The summer Sunday morning apparently had a relaxed dress code. It wasn't until she got up that he noticed what she had on, or more to the point, what she didn't. Rachel was in a summer dress. It was obviously a light fabric and loose fitting so she could bear the heat of her apartment. D.C. summers are notoriously humid and unpleasant and he could easily guess that her meager budget did not include air conditioning. Her breasts had a pleasing lift to them and the dress did justice to the outline of her nipple. After a few minutes he decided that his favorite vantage point was when she would present her profile to him. The dress was cheap and flimsy, but her figure was complemented by it nonetheless.

"Hey...did we lose audio or something?"

Ethan forced himself to replay in his mind what he'd just heard her say. "Sorry, yeah the audio quality dipped there for a moment." Of course there was no such problem, he was not paying attention to the task at hand. "Can you repeat the question?"

"I was talking about the timing of our putting a survey in the field. We have budget for three separate passes and I want to make sure we don't waste our opportunities."

"I agree. What about doing two in the fall and then waiting a few months and doing two more in the spring. That way we can get similar sample sizes for each set."