George H. Cutter, a self-made businessman who once drove a truck, strides through his California factory with a proprietary air. The opening pages establish a world where physical strength and mental toughness are valued equally, and where Cutter's bond with his workers is built on shared history rather than sentiment. When a scientist named Bolen offers him a device called Confidet—a tool that sharpens human performance—Cutter's response is immediate and pragmatic: he wants results, not theory.

The excerpts trace a rapid transformation: efficiency reports climb, employees like Harry Linden show dramatic improvement, and Cutter expands the experiment beyond administrative staff. Yet the story's title hints at a double meaning—confidence as both self-assurance and deception. The catalog subjects list 'Science fiction' and 'Businessmen — Fiction,' but the text itself is more interested in the mechanics of control than in futuristic technology.

The Confidet as a Plot Device, Not a Scientific Prop

The story's central invention, the Confidet, is described only through its effects. Bolen, its creator, calls it 'the most important thing in the world' but offers no explanation of how it works. The narrative focuses on outcomes: a sixty-percent efficiency increase in Harry Linden, a divorce trial attended during work hours, and the firing of three department heads. The device itself remains a black box, a McGuffin that drives character action rather than a subject of technical speculation.

This treatment aligns with the story's 1954 publication in If: Worlds of Science Fiction, a magazine that often blended social commentary with speculative elements. McKimmey uses the Confidet to explore workplace dynamics and personal ambition, not to predict future technology. The catalog category 'Social Speculation' fits better than 'hard science fiction'—the story is less about how the device works than about what people will do to gain an edge.

Cutter's Voice and the Language of Control

Cutter's dialogue and internal monologue reveal a man who measures everything in terms of strength and weakness. He yells at a truck driver to 'Get that junk out of the way!' and later laughs with the same man, reinforcing a hierarchy where he is both boss and former peer. His walk through the shop is described as a ritual: 'He liked the heavy driving sound of the machines in his ears, and the muscled look of the men.' The prose itself is muscular, with short sentences and active verbs that mirror Cutter's impatience.

When Bolen demands a dissolved contract, Cutter 'reddened faintly' but quickly calculates the profit potential. The narrative never condemns or celebrates his choices—it simply reports them. This flat, observational tone extends to the description of Mary, Cutter's wife, who after receiving a desk and chair 'gave a dinner for thirty people without crying just before it started.' The detail is telling: the Confidet's effects are not limited to the office, and the story does not flinch from showing how efficiency reshapes personal relationships.

Resistance and the Limits of the Excerpts

Not everyone in the story embraces Cutter's methods. Quay, the efficiency expert who helped implement the Confidet, resigns abruptly to buy a fishing boat and get married. Cutter is 'startled and extremely angry,' but Quay remains 'unperturbed and stubborn.' This subplot introduces a counterpoint to Cutter's drive, suggesting that not all characters value increased productivity above all else. The excerpts do not reveal Quay's motives or whether he reappears later.

Similarly, the story's ending is absent from the provided text. The catalog lists 'Self-confidence -- Fiction' as a subject, but the excerpts show confidence as something administered externally, not cultivated from within. Readers must judge for themselves whether Cutter's experiment succeeds or backfires. The incomplete record makes it impossible to confirm the story's resolution, but the pattern of rising efficiency and personal cost is already clear.

McKimmey's story rewards attention to its small, telling details: the way Cutter strikes a truck fender with his fist, the precise percentage of efficiency increase, the offhand mention of a divorce trial. These specifics ground the speculative premise in a recognizable world of factory floors and boardrooms. Readers interested in mid-century science fiction's engagement with corporate culture will find a compact, unadorned narrative that raises questions about the price of improvement without providing easy answers.