Sec­tion 7 reveals how deeply edu­ca­tion in Flat­land shapes not only per­son­al suc­cess but soci­etal struc­ture. Advance­ment depends on pass­ing the Final Test, and those from the Polyg­o­nal class often thrive, accel­er­at­ing far beyond their Tri­an­gu­lar class­mates. In ear­ly stages, tri­an­gles and poly­gons may share the same cur­ricu­lum, but over time, the Polyg­o­nal stu­dents dis­play sharp­er insight and supe­ri­or under­stand­ing. This dis­tinc­tion becomes clear as they enter pro­fes­sion­al life, where their edu­ca­tion trans­lates into con­trol over sci­ence, gov­ern­ment, and law. Their dom­i­nance is accept­ed as nat­ur­al, even nec­es­sary, rein­forc­ing the idea that intel­lect and sym­me­try go hand in hand. For most of them, a bright future is guar­an­teed by both birth and effort. Yet the sys­tem is less for­giv­ing to those who fail its stan­dards.

Those few among the Polyg­o­nal youth who do not pass the Final Exam­i­na­tion face severe con­se­quences. Unlike those in low­er class­es who may still find mod­est roles, these failed Poly­gons are seen as use­less anom­alies. They are denied employ­ment, exclud­ed from influ­en­tial cir­cles, and con­sid­ered unwor­thy of mar­riage alliances. Their fail­ure is treat­ed as a per­ma­nent flaw, not just a tem­po­rary set­back. With­out soci­etal func­tion or sup­port, these indi­vid­u­als drift into iso­la­tion or des­per­a­tion. Many of Flatland’s revolts and dis­tur­bances have been traced back to such dis­en­fran­chised fig­ures. Their bit­ter­ness toward a sys­tem that offers no sec­ond chances often turns into rebel­lion. In response, some of the more con­ser­v­a­tive lead­ers advo­cate for harsh reme­dies. They pro­pose either per­ma­nent impris­on­ment or gen­tle exe­cu­tion, believ­ing this will ensure sta­bil­i­ty and dis­cour­age oth­ers from ques­tion­ing the estab­lished order.

This rigid approach reflects how deeply Flat­land val­ues reg­u­lar­i­ty, not just in shape but in behav­ior and con­tri­bu­tion. Those who can­not con­form, regard­less of the rea­son, are cast aside to pre­serve the per­ceived har­mo­ny of soci­ety. But the system’s harsh­ness also reveals its fragility—its need to elim­i­nate dif­fer­ence in order to main­tain con­trol. These fail­ures are not inher­ent­ly dan­ger­ous; they become so because they are pushed out of every respectable avenue. Exclu­sion breeds resent­ment, and resent­ment even­tu­al­ly turns to defi­ance. The solu­tion may not lie in pun­ish­ment but in rethink­ing the idea of worth. A sys­tem that treats fail­ure as a final judg­ment rather than a moment for growth cre­ates its own oppo­si­tion. In this way, Flatland’s pur­suit of order may be under­min­ing the very sta­bil­i­ty it claims to pro­tect.

The issue of irreg­u­lar­i­ty takes this idea of rejec­tion even fur­ther. In Flat­land, every cit­i­zen must pos­sess a per­fect, pre­dictable shape. Women must be straight lines, and men must adhere to pre­cise geo­met­ri­cal forms, whether tri­an­gu­lar, square, or beyond. Uni­for­mi­ty is essen­tial not just for visu­al recog­ni­tion but for social func­tion­al­i­ty. If an angle is slight­ly off or a side uneven, the indi­vid­ual becomes dif­fi­cult to iden­ti­fy and poten­tial­ly dan­ger­ous. In a soci­ety where sight and touch replace names and faces, irreg­u­lar­i­ty is more than inconvenient—it’s treat­ed as a threat to civ­i­liza­tion itself. The fear is that if too many irreg­u­lar fig­ures exist­ed, con­fu­sion would spread, and dai­ly inter­ac­tions would col­lapse into chaos. Thus, reg­u­lar­i­ty is not mere­ly pre­ferred; it is enforced as a form of moral and civ­il duty.

Irreg­u­lar fig­ures are met not with com­pas­sion, but with hos­til­i­ty. From birth, such indi­vid­u­als are labeled defec­tive and are often destroyed before reach­ing adult­hood. If allowed to live, they are seg­re­gat­ed and treat­ed as sym­bols of cor­rup­tion. Many in Flat­land argue that geo­met­ric irreg­u­lar­i­ty is tied to moral fail­ure, though no sci­en­tif­ic proof sup­ports this. Even those who dis­agree can­not shift pub­lic opin­ion. Soci­ety clings to the belief that only per­fec­tion can ensure peace. Irreg­u­lar­i­ty becomes a metaphor for all forms of deviation—intellectual, social, or eth­i­cal. To be irreg­u­lar is to be infe­ri­or, and this mind­set leaves no room for nuance or empa­thy. It reflects a fear not just of dif­fer­ence, but of com­plex­i­ty.

Yet the rigid sys­tem ignores the val­ue that could be found in vari­a­tion. Just as in nature, where diver­si­ty strength­ens ecosys­tems, a soci­ety open to dif­fer­ent shapes and ideas might become more adapt­able. Inno­va­tion often comes from those who think dif­fer­ent­ly, who don’t quite fit. In reject­ing irreg­u­lar­i­ty, Flat­land may be sac­ri­fic­ing cre­ativ­i­ty and resilience. A world that allows only for sym­me­try risks becom­ing brittle—beautiful on the sur­face but unable to cope with change. The treat­ment of the irreg­u­lar reveals a soci­ety more con­cerned with image than with sub­stance. And beneath the appear­ance of order lies a ten­sion wait­ing to unfold.