In a society built around a grand Cybertronian taxonomy that is obsessively revised and reinterpreted, the one thing that never changes—the one that must never change—is the system itself. Every revision, every reinterpretation takes place within a rigid framework of social stratification. Nothing must threaten the Functionists’ core philosophy: utility as an organizing principle.

If you could step outside the system you would recognize it for what it is: a prison. Worse that that, it is a prison full of willing prisoners. And not only are you a prisoner within the system, you are a prisoner within your own body. Whether you were born or made, forged or constructed cold, you are trapped inside your alt mode. The Functionists built the lock and the Senate holds the key; but most of are unaware that we are locked in.

Make no mistake: your life is mapped out in front of you are, as clear as the grooves in your transformation cog. You can no more choose to change jobs than Cybertron can choose to stop orbiting the Sun. You can no more acquire a skill unrelated to your vocation than the sky can acquire a conscience.

In denying you the ability to reject your alt mode—in preventing you from pursuing a path of your own choosing—both the Senate and the Council say they are acting in your best interests. They have a responsibility, they say, to ensure that you make best use of your god-given form. If you turn into a drill, that is because Primus knows that Cybertron needs drills. To deviate from your function is to risk invoking the wrath of god and brings the world to its knees.

In truth, it is about control. Multi-skilled population is an empowered population. And if you reject your alt mode, what next? Could you reject your class? Would you reject your government?

The Functionists don’t rely solely on the theology when rebutting arguments for change. Working outside your alt mode would be confusing, they say. Imagine being treated by a medic with tank treads; you would question their competence. And they extend the same question to the minors. “Would you feel comfortable working alongside a microscope?” And to the military: “Would you put your life in the hands of a soldier who turns into a data slug?”

And it is true. People would be unnerved—at first. But the Functionists—enabled by the Senate—have created the conditions that have given rise to the culture of suspicion; and they have done so deliberately, because it reinforces the status quo. Moreover, it fosters division, and division is another means why which they can control the population. The more walls you can put up between people, the easier it is to contain them, and the stronger the structural integrity of the system.

And that is why when you see a stranger you don’t think, “What are they like?” You think, “What are they for?” You don’t think, “What are their hopes, dreams, aspirations?” You think, “What do they do?” and then you think, “Where are they positioned in relation to me? Do they sit above, alongside, or below? Are they better than me, or I them?”

Even if you believe in the grand Cybertronian taxonomy, ask yourself this: who decides on that order? And then: why should there be an order? And that is the question the Senate and the Functionists fear the most, because they know that their world would collapse if people arrived at the answer. Why should there be an order? I’ll tell you: there shouldn’t be.

Be happy in your work, they say, for it enriches you. Be grateful for your alt mode, for it defines you. Be thankful for the system—it protects you. Be mindful of your betters—they think for you. I say enough. Reject your work. Reject your alt mode. Resist the system. And your “betters”? You have none. We are all equal. And we have a right to decide how to live our lives.