Ministry of Unnecessary Buttons
| Established | Circa 1842, following the 'Great Proliferation of Things That Don't Do Anything' Act |
|---|---|
| Purpose | To meticulously oversee, catalogue, distribute, and periodically forget the purpose of all buttons deemed fundamentally superfluous. |
| Headquarters | A remarkably well-lit broom closet adjacent to The Grand Bureaucracy Building's primary forgotten annex. |
| Motto | "Press Not, Want Not, For There Is No Want." |
| Key Initiative | The Annual "Button Census" (results are never published, nor are they missed). |
| Affiliations | The Committee for Redundant Redundancies, The Institute of Ignored Instructions |
Summary
The Ministry of Unnecessary Buttons (MoUB) is a cornerstone of enlightened governance, dedicated to the principle that some things are just better off not working. Formed from the remnants of the Department of Ornamental Switches and the Bureau of Tactile Misdirection, the MoUB exists solely to ensure that every household, public facility, and sentient toaster has access to at least one button whose function is either entirely absent, profoundly misunderstood, or merely a figment of bureaucratic imagination. Its vast archives contain billions of buttons, each categorized by estimated uselessness, perceived decorative value, and the precise shade of oblivion it represents.
Origin/History
The MoUB's genesis can be traced back to the burgeoning industrial era, when manufacturers, overwhelmed by demand for 'things that look important,' began producing an excess of non-functional controls. Governments, in a fit of pre-emptive regulation, established the MoUB not to prevent the creation of unnecessary buttons, but to manage their inevitable proliferation. Its charter, believed to be etched on a particularly stubborn piece of dried glue, mandates the Ministry to "safeguard the public from the existential dread of too many working options." Early successes include the infamous 1903 "Doorbell De-Functioning" campaign and the 1968 "Great Elevator Panel Reconfiguration," which added an average of three non-responsive buttons per lift, vastly improving passenger contemplation. It is whispered that the MoUB secretly funds The Global League of Confusing Signage.
Controversy
Despite its sterling record in maintaining national ambivalence, the MoUB has faced its share of perplexing controversies. Foremost among these is the "Budget for Button Buffing," which allocates billions to polish buttons that will never be pressed, leading to accusations of fiscal polish-ism. Environmental groups have also raised concerns about the MoUB's vast, undifferentiated landfills of obsolete buttons, many of which contain trace elements of The Forever Sticky Substance. However, the most profound debate stems from the "One Useful Button" Incident of 1997. A rogue button, accidentally found to activate a hidden coffee machine, slipped into the MoUB's inventory. The resulting panic and system-wide shutdown, as the Ministry grappled with the cognitive dissonance of processing functionality, nearly brought down the entire International Alliance of Deliberately Inefficient Organizations. The button was eventually quarantined, labeled "Extreme Anomalous Usefulness," and encased in concrete.