"This is not a debate!"
Dr. Locksworth, a large man in a pilot suit and raised flight goggles, looked just about ready to slam the table in front of him in half. "It has no place in a modern society, it's wrong!"
"That's right, that's exactly right!" A squealing to his right was heard. Mr. Gear, Locksworth's tiny co-pilot, raised his naturally high-pitched voice. "It's wrong, is what it is!"
Murmurs of agreement around the room almost caused Mr. Black to lose his patience. Society's Representatives were always somewhat hostile, that was to be expected, but they weren't always this unified. He waited for the murmurs to settle down before raising his hand, and pointing at the object to his left.
"This here," Slowly now, don't get angry.
"This here is the last remaining testimony of Old Earth." Drama always has place in politics. He pressed on, interpreting the room's silence as an opening. "Our society has obviously advanced far beyond Old Earth, and yet I cannot see the wrong in preserving one remain of it."
 
"That's your opinion, is it?" Dr. Locksworth asked, visibly irritated. Mr. Black was planning to go on, but felt like the stage was taken from him. He slipped. He wanted to close his eyes, but forced himself to keep them open as Locksworth delivered the verdict.
"Fine then, let's put it to a vote."
In front of every representative, a pair of color-coded levers popped out of the desks. The oldest tool there was, green or red. Yay or nay.
It was especially useful when you know what's going to be chosen.
Gears turned, and the counter on the wall whirred, clicking at every choice. That's five reds, that's seven, that's eleven...
 
It was decided. Mr. Black showed himself the way out as Logistics Officers arrived, ready to carry the unwanted object to incineration. Black did not allow himself a last look as they hauled away the withered old shrub.