"You'd rather it advanced like a wildfire?"

Coleman burnishes Sasha industriously, but it's immediately obvious that it's purely to have something to do with his hands. There's certainly no thought involved; this is the third time he's buffed that patch and--hold on--wait--yep, fourth time. 

"Because that's what you'd get if you decided that rules shouldn't apply to, ugh, [i]exceptional[/i] people. People would go around deciding, 'Well, [i]I'm[/i] exceptional, so the rules don't apply to me.'"

It shouldn't be possible to pronounce 'exceptional' as if it's something scraped off your boot, but Coleman manages.

"And who decides who's exceptional? Is there a standard test? Anyone scoring above 95% gets to ignore the rules? Is it a matter of being better at magic? Is it about being better at stealing money? Or do you just wake up one day, head full of spirits, and decide 'rules are lame?'"

Coleman's not really looking at the scenery. Oh, he's looking out towards the desert, certainly, but he's focusing several million miles past it.

"Let's follow that thread. You're exceptional! Congrats! The rules don't apply to you anymore! You get to rebuild society in your image! And now you're the king. You decide which rules to make, secure in the knowledge that you'll never have to follow them because, after all, you're exceptional.

"Don't get me wrong. I'm with you on hereditary monarchy. Being in charge shouldn't be a matter of 'my dad was a bigger bastard than yours, so you need to do what I say.' But even if we made sure the leader was the best person for the job, you'd still want a way to hold them accountable. Otherwise, like you said, the exceptional people get to make the rules that say they don't need to follow the rules, and then they're in charge forever. Or at least, until the next [i]exceptional[/i] person rises and wages bloody civil war to show how exceptional they are and how [i]they[/i] should get to make the rules."