Wife runs a 12-node network on foot. Husband files report instead
The committee reviews this field report with professional appreciation for its central figure. The wife maintains a twelve-contact morning circuit — couples, singles, professional dog walkers, park employees — with full situational awareness ('mostly friends', enemies catalogued), zero technology, and a cadence of one lap per day. This is relationship infrastructure, built and maintained by hand. The committee recognizes the workmanship instantly, because the committee's members built every such network you have ever benefited from.
The husband's contribution, entered faithfully: he attends once, is recognized by no one, forgets the name of his sole contact AND that contact's dog, and converts the experience into a national newspaper column. The committee wishes to be surprised. The committee is not surprised. Observing a woman's uncompensated social labour and monetizing the write-up is a genre older than the byline.
Jean is exempt from all criticism. Jean maintains park-wide approval, crosses festival checkpoints on reputation alone — 'she's got a wristband', and the committee has decided she does — and greets every node in the network daily. Jean is hereby appointed the goose's deputy, the first canine so honoured. The goose was consulted. The goose approves, warily.
Directive to the husband: three names by September, learned properly, humans' own. Max's owner first. That is all. Dismissed — walkies.