Wilson, WOTAN and the white heat of technocracy

By Danny Nicol
University of Westminster

 

The period during which Doctor Who has been broadcast has been characterised by a “rise of the unelected” – the growth of appointed commissions, banks and courts which decide political policy without the worry of having to stand for re-election.  In this context politics is seen as a technocratic “fix”.   It has little to do with class interests: rather, it’s all a complicated matter of detailed, technical policy.  With their special knowledge the experts can be trusted to solve the country’s problems.

Technocracy came to the fore modestly in the early days of Doctor Who when Harold Wilson’s Labour government eschewed socialism in favour of managing “the white heat of technology” through a National Economic Development Council.  Since then, unelected bodies have been doing a roaring trade: the European Commission, the Monetary Policy Committee of the Bank of England, the Office of Budget Responsibility, the little-known panels of the World Trade Organisation, the Eurozone troika with its preference for technocratic national governments…   For some, technocracy is a matter of pride, with Tony Blair in 1997 promising a “government without ideology”.

The Doctor (William Hartnell) encounters WOTAN

The rise of the unelected is presaged by two early Doctor Who adventures which imagine computers running the world.  In “The War Machines” (1966) the government builds a powerful computer called WOTAN (Will Operating Thought ANalogue) in what is now the British Telecom Tower.  A senior civil servant Sir Charles Summer asserts that “no one operates WOTAN…the computer is merely a brain which thinks logically without any political ends.  It is pure thought…it is our servant.”  In the end, WOTAN hypnotises the staff operating it, and goes about trying to eliminate humans from the planet. 

“The Ice Warriors” (1967) introduces a species of Martians whom we meet several times in subsequent adventures.  But the beauty of the story is that the monsters are not the real enemy: the world is run by a Great World Computer.  The humans in the story are led by Leader Clent who says “you know how efficient our civilisation is, thanks to the direction of the Great World Computer.”  Yet we’re told that the Computer’s guidance has reduced the number of plants on the planet so that land can be used for house-building.  No plants, no carbon dioxide, no spring.  A new Ice Age has established itself.  Clent’s robotic deference towards the Computer is startling in its disconnect and denial: the World Computer has destroyed the Earth’s climate, yet is praised as the font of an efficient civilisation! 

 



Leader Clent and his assistant Miss Garrett
 defer to the Great Computer

We’re told that the Computer’s principle is that all decisions, all actions must be impartial and must conform to the common good – again, familiar technocratic rhetoric.  Opponents of the Computer’s rule are regarded as “scavengers” and are deported.  One critical voice is the rebel scientist Penley, who argues that the Computer isn’t designed to take risks, but that risk-taking is the basis of man’s progress.  The humans eventually come to realise that the World Computer’s top priority it is own survival.

In today’s world technocracy is alive and well, as shown by the likelihood that the TTIP (Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership) will enable corporations to challenge the policies of democratically-elected governments in secret courts.   Doctor Who deserves credit for using the computer metaphor to challenge uncritical claims that technocracy is an impartial form of governance dedicated to the common good.

 

Satire ahead of the curve: "Night Terrors" and council house ownership

By Danny Nicol
University of Westminster

In “Night Terrors” (2011) the Doctor and companions Amy and Rory encounter landlord Purcell who, to Rory’s astonishment, owns the council block in which this adventure takes place.  Purcell proves no model landlord.  The accommodation is run-down and he menaces tenants for rent with the help of his large dog Bernard.  Purcell’s smug and solitary self-centredness contrasts with the troubled but less selfish family life of the story’s sympathetic characters – Alex, Claire and their troubled little boy George.  At one point, Purcell sinks agreeably into his own floor - although this come-uppance proves temporary.

 

Not as nice as he looks: Landlord Purcell and Bernard

In Britain, accommodation through council houses and flats (apartments) is a means of sheltering the less-well-off from the harshness of the free market.  In the 1980s, however, the Thatcher government started to sell off these properties to tenants at subsidised prices.  This policy was presented as liberating the individual.   Tenants could enjoy the dream of home ownership and bequeath their properties to their children.  Many years later a study by Inside Housing (14 August 2015) has made some astonishing revelations about the long-term effects of this policy.  There has been a concentration of ownership in favour of the well-to-do.  Some 40 per cent of homes originally sold under the scheme are now let out by private landlords.  Furthermore these landlords charge up to seven times the average social rent for the properties.  As a result there has been a huge rise in evictions for rent arrears. 

 

Yet Doctor Who was satirising this state of affairs several years before this study appeared: Purcell’s ownership of the entire block gave the lie to the idea that the council house sell-off would benefit the individual tenant.  It is admirable how Doctor Who transmitted the sense of unease about the “liberation” of council accommodation well before the impact of the policy had been formally documented and the facts had fully come to light.

A sinking property market: Purcell gets sucked in

Does supranationalism bring out the best in us? “The Daleks’ Master Plan”

By Danny Nicol
University of Westminster

“The Daleks’ Master Plan” (1965) is one of the most ambitious Doctor Who sagas of the show’s history.  It is a twelve-episode space odyssey which (despite a measure of padding) builds to a thrilling climax.  The plot involves a group of alien leaders who form a Universal Council in which they are allied to the Daleks.  This Council plans to unleash a weapon of mass destruction, the Time Destructor, with which it can conquer the Universe.   It has recruited the Guardian of the Solar System, Mavic Chen, as one of its members.  Doctor Who’s script editor at the time, Donald Tosh, has suggested that the Universal Council is a satire on the United Nations. 




Plotting with the Daleks:
 the Universal Council plan the conquest of the Universe



The plot of “The Daleks’ Master Plan” raises a vital political and constitutional question.  Throughout the period in which Doctor Who has been broadcast, supranational organisations have become more and more prominent in our country’s politics.  To what extent can these organisations be reformed in a progressive direction?  In the recent UK general election Plaid Cymru The Party of Wales argued for reform in the European Union, reflecting “the need for Europe to support its population, not international neoliberal corporations who have no responsibility to people”.  The Green Manifesto also sought EU reform, criticising “the EU’s unsustainable economics of free trade and growth”.

 

A bit green?  Plaid Cymru leader
Leanne Wood wants an EU for
the people not the corporations

But how realistic is this?  The policies which Plaid Cymru and the Greens don’t like are, for the most part, enshrined in the EU Treaties.  These can only be amended by common accord of the leaders of all the EU member states, with each state ratifying the changes in accordance with its own constitutional requirements.  The idea that every leader of every member state would wish to change the Treaties in an anti-corporate, anti-free trade direction requires an excessive dose of wishful thinking.  Yet this obstacle is studiously ignored by Plaid Cymru and the Greens.

 

Such excessive optimism regarding the progressive potential of the supranational regimes stems from the deeply-held assumption that international cooperation is a noble endeavour.  “The Daleks’ Master Plan” puts forward an altogether less favourable view.  It points to international governance as an escape from accountability.  Mavic Chen’s adoring public assume that the great leader is going off on holiday; in fact he’s off to plot with the Daleks in the expectation of becoming supreme ruler of the universe.  (In this regard it is easy to see the solar system as a metaphor for Britain: we’re told that “the solar system is exceptional. In its power lies influences far outside its own sphere”.  It’s the usual image of Britain punching above its weight.)    Other alien leaders have also kept their participation in the Universal Council a closely-guarded secret.

 

Unaccountable power: Mavic Chen
in league with the Daleks

 

It is well established that leaders increase their power through supranational forums since these serve to insulate them from pressure back home.  In this regard they come to resemble the very corporations “who have no responsibility to people” with which progressive critics of the EU are rightly concerned.

 

Tasha Lem and Libby Lane: the politics and law of the Church

 By Danny Nicol, University of Westminster 





In “The Time of the Doctor” (2013) we meet the Church of the Papal Mainframe, a security church dedicated to protecting you in this world and the next.  Its leader is the Mother Superius, Tasha Lem.  In our own reality, in the largest part of the United Kingdom, we have the Church of England, whose supreme governor is Queen Elizabeth II, albeit power lies with her (male) Archbishops and the Church's legislature, the General Synod.  The Church of England is an established church, connected to the State.  As such it enjoys a special position in national life and identity, even for agnostics, atheists (like me) and those of other faiths.  The notion of an established religion was so repellent to the American founding fathers that they disabled the US Congress from being able to create one.  It may, indeed, be difficult for some Americans to grasp fully the Church’s special significance in England’s national life.  


Be that as it may, the Church has recently appointed its first woman bishop, Libby Lane, as Bishop of Stockport.  This blog post considers the differences between Tasha Lem and Libby Lane.  It argues that these may be used to criticise both the Church of England and Doctor Who’s stance on women under Steven Moffat as show runner.

"There will now be an unscheduled faith change!"
Tasha lays down the law.

First, Tasha is leader of her Church, Libby isn’t.  It is good that Doctor Who imagines a religion led by a woman: the religious world is characterised by male domination.  In this regard it is to be hoped that Libby Lane’s appointment will kick-start a powerful impetus towards gender equality in the established Church, and that the time will come when the Church’s leadership posts, Archbishop of Canterbury and Archbishop of York, are held by women.  The omens are not all bad: women priests were introduced in 1994 and by 2010 more women were being ordained than men. On the other hand it is often easier to change the gender balance at rank-and-file level than at the top.

Secondly, Tasha is authoritarian, Libby isn’t.  Seemingly without consulting her Church, Tasha changes its aims and objectives.  Declaring an “unscheduled faith change” Tasha dictates that the Church will devote itself entirely to the cause of intergalactic peace.  This sounds laudable, but it is a pity that the decision is Tasha’s alone.  By contrast the Church of England’s rules diffuse power more widely.  During Libby Lane’s consecration ceremony a male congregant objected that woman bishops were “not in the Bible”.  The presiding archbishop was able to retort that women Bishops are now lawful under Church canon, and that, being the established Church, this canon is now the law of the land, approved by all three houses of the Church’s General Synod and both Houses of the United Kingdom Parliament.  Against this backdrop of consensus, the Queen had commanded Libby Lane’s appointment – a command which the Archbishop declared himself compelled to obey by dint of his oath of allegiance to the Sovereign.  This explanation is imbued with the effect on our previously-Catholic church of the Protestant Reformation and the marriage of Church and State of the 16th century Tudor era.

Sonic crozier?  Libby Lane
with her new symbol of office

Thirdly, Tasha’s dictatorial approach to Church governance goes hand-in-hand with a public show of sexual desire for the Doctor.  In conformity with Steven Moffat’s favoured stereotype, the woman is powerful except…she makes the man the centre of attention.  Thus Tasha beckons him provocatively, flirts with him, and even suffers a sexual assault from him – as Alyssa Franke has observed in her excellent Whovian Feminism blog.  By contrast Libby Lane has expressed the hope that her appointment leads young women to realise that society need not dictate the limits of what is possible for them.

Finally, there is one point of symmetry between the two Churches.  Faced with war the Church of the Papal Mainframe becomes a political church.  Faced with rising inequality the Church of England has done the same thing.  In recent times pay-day loans, the need for food banks and the gap between rich and poor have all earned its vocal disapproval.  Like its Doctor Who counterpart the Church of England rightly cannot isolate itself from politics.

Missy and the Doctor: isn't Doctor Who political?

By Danny Nicol
University of Westminster

First woman Doctor?  Clara Oswald tries to
 convince a Cyberman that she is the Time Lord.

In a celebrated article published in 2004 entitled “Is Doctor Who political?” Professor Alan McKee argued that Doctor Who’s “old show” (1963-89) was not political because fans whom he surveyed did not see it as political – at least, not in the sense of traditional, state-level politics.  ((2004) 7 European Journal of Cultural Studies 201).  McKee’s argument seemed to contain the suggestion that scholars should deprioritise interpreting the politics of Doctor Who themselves, and should instead focus their attentions more on soliciting the opinions of fans on the matter.   

Say something nice

This blog post will resist the temptation of critiquing McKee’s stance.  But it will observe that – a decade on - McKee does not seem to have carried the day.  In the last four years in particular, a significant scholarly literature has emerged interpreting Doctor Who, including political aspects.  Academics have declined to “shut up, shut up, shut uppity up”.

Moreover Doctor Who’s recent series finale “Dark Water”/“Death in Heaven” (2014), suggests that Doctor Who is indeed political.  No fewer than three political themes pervade it.

"Missy.  Short for Mistress.  Well...I couldn't very well
keep calling myself the Master, could I?"

First, feminism.  The series as a whole repeatedly reflected – or perhaps satirised - the growing clamour that the Doctor be played by a woman.  In the series finale, therefore, the mysterious Missy turns out to be the newly regenerated, regendered Master, a long-time opponent of the Doctor; and companion Clara Oswald identifies herself to the Cybermen as the Doctor, with the opening titles being changed to give Jenna Coleman, who plays Clara, the billing usually reserved for the man who plays the Doctor.  For good measure, at the end of the adventure, the Doctor and Clara joke about the Doctor becoming Queen of Gallifrey.  In his article, McKee contends that “gender politics” is different from “traditional state-level politics”, but such a sharp demarcation is pernicious.  It serves to marginalise feminism.  The question of why women – the majority of the population – do not form majorities in Parliaments and Cabinets, is both a matter of gender politics and a matter of state-level politics.  And the Doctor is a political figure – not least in this adventure, where he fleetingly becomes President of Earth.

 

Missy implores the Doctor to accept her gift:
 a Cyberman army

Secondly, the question of whether the Doctor is a “good man”.  It is arguable indeed that the series offered us a de-legalised version of the “Trial of a Time Lord” story arc of 1986, when the Time Lords place the Doctor on trial for his incorrigible meddling with other peoples and planets.  Throughout the series the Doctor has been expressing his misgivings about whether he is a good man.  This theme has been part and parcel of the new show since it began in 2005 and has shadowed Britain's controversial interventions in Iraq and Afghanistan.  The series finale culminates with Missy offering the Doctor “an indestructible army to range across the Universe” so that he can enforce his version of what is “right”.  The Doctor rejects the offer.  Human companions are army enough for him.  But does this make him a good man?  Doesn't the Doctor, like Britain, merely “punch above his weight” in foreign interventions?



Thirdly, the power of corporations.  In “Dark Water”/“Death in Heaven”, a mighty company called 3W is using the bodies of dead people to create Cybermen.  It does so under the guise of giving "more life" to the dead.  The Doctor detects the stench of profiteering: “fakery, all of it; it’s a con, it’s a racket!”  The corporate domination of Britain is certainly an important element of the country’s politics.  The show’s repeated onslaughts on corporate power have already been considered in this blog; the series finale continues the tradition in feisty fashion.

Clara Oswald, constitutional scholar?

By David Yuratich,
Bournemouth University

 

"Kill The Moon" (2014) continues the tradition of parcelling difficult moral decisions into the Doctor’s adventures. Fully in keeping with the Twelfth Doctor’s escapades thus far, the resolution of its central dilemma is left to Clara. When it becomes apparent that the moon is not a benign lump of rock, but an egg hatching into an alien of unknown dangerousness, the Doctor refuses to settle the question of whether to destroy the moon or allow the alien to be born. It is expressly left with three humans - Clara, Courtney, and Lundvik - to decide. The resulting scene is interesting from the constitutional lawyer’s perspective because of two interlinking points it raises about human rights, democracy, and constitutionalism. This blog post seeks to briefly note these implications (other readings of the episode have of course been made: see for example this piece on the ‘Whovian Feminism’ blog about the episode’s relationship to abortion).

 

Determined abstainer: the Doctor on the Moon

 

1. The Doctor abandons the three humans to decide on the moon’s fate for the following reason: ‘there are moments in every civilization’s history in which the whole path of that civilization is decided … it’s your choice’. The message here is that humans must decide for themselves what moral values should underpin their new society and its laws. From the perspective of constitutional law, the significance of this scene can be explained with reference to the literature on referendums. Tierney (2009) argues that if the democratic legitimacy of the state ultimately founds on popular sovereignty, any structural alterations to the rules governing state powers demand the approval of that constituent power. As Levy (2013) states, referendums are designed to approve or disapprove of changes ‘intended to bind present and future citizens to defined public values, policies, and structures and limits on power’. Just as constitutional referendums are supposed to provide popular approval for a shift in fundamental legal principles, the Doctor intends that the moon’s future is determined by those whose fate it so profoundly affects. He recuses himself from the decision because, in his own words, ‘whatever future humanity might have depends upon the choice that is made right here, right now … I can’t make this decision for you … some decisions are too important not to take on your own’. This is humanity’s decision, and at the root of any legitimate constitutional order must be the ownership of that order by its citizens.

 

Watching the referendum result: Clara and Courtney

 

2. The second point arises from the fact that Clara’s ultimate decision seemingly goes against the majority’s wishes. After a global vote (albeit based around a dubious mechanism involving the moon-facing half of the Earth switching their lights on or off - some may seek the views of the other side of the globe, or those who had no electricity?) it becomes apparent that the consensus is in favour of destroying the moon. If this is the decision upon which Earth wishes to base its future, how can we reconcile Clara’s anti-majoritarian intervention with the founding of a constitutional order based on popular consensus? The answer lies in how fundamental rights protection fits into democracy and constitutions. In Freedom’s Law (1996) Dworkin argues that democracy is not purely about the majority will. It necessitates the protection of rights that, although they may not always serve the majority, protect the idea of equality upon which any legitimate constitutional and democratic order must be based. Dworkin terms this a ‘constitutional conception’ of democracy. Clara’s decision to protect the moon offers a Dworkinian twist on the constitutional referendum: a frustration of popular sovereignty that foregrounds fundamental rights within the constitutional order. The Earth’s future is based on the protection of basic equalities as well as the popular will. This is a form of constitutionalism that derives its legitimacy from not only a ‘founding moment’ of expressed constituent power. It is also founded on a recognition that a breach of fundamental rights - here the right to life - would be inimical to a legal order whose legitimacy flows from a commitment to equality. The newly constituted order cannot be allowed to make decisions that would take away the basic rights - here the right to life - of those within its jurisdiction, because this would contradict the basis of their new society, set to ‘spread across the stars’. Clara’s actions are an interesting exhibition of this approach to constitutionalism.

Bibliography

Ronald Dworkin, Freedom’s Law (Harvard UP 1996).
Ron Levy, ‘"Deliberative Voting": Reforming Constitutional Referendum Democracy’ [2013] Public Law 555.
Stephen Tierney, ‘Constitutional Referendums: A Theoretical Enquiry’ (2009) 72 Modern Law Review 360.

Money for old trope

By Danny Nicol,

University of Westminster

“Time Heist” (2014) is the first Doctor Who adventure involving an intergalactic bank.   The detailed plot of this spirited romp need not concern us here.  More interesting politically is what the story tells us about the bank.  We learn three things.  First, the bank exists for the benefit of the super-rich.  Secondly, when individuals get in its way, it is totally without mercy - to the point of murder.  Thirdly, this ruthlessness extends to its treatment of its own staff.

The Bank's security chief Ms Delphox - a bit of an
intergalactic dominatrix.
(Gosh Mr Moffat, you've never given us one of
those before!!)

On one level, the writers missed a trick.  There have been plenty of corporations in Doctor Who, but this was the first story to involve a company in the financial sector.  Unlike “Planet of the Ood” (2008), the episode does not place the corporation in its context. (I thank Dr. Joan Mahoney for this observation.)   Perhaps as a result, the criticism is rather rudimentary: the authors miss out on the opportunity for some biting satire on the banking crisis 2008 which severely damaged the British economy and did even greater harm elsewhere. 

Doctor Who's
 original entrepreneur,
Tobias Vaughn,
in league with Cybermen
in "The Invasion".

Stuff the company

On a more positive note, however, “Time Heist” shows Doctor Who’s astonishing consistency over time when it comes to the show’s unfavourable portrayal of the corporation.   The three features listed above were present in “The Invasion” (1968) and in a significant number of Doctor Who stories thereafter.  As regards the post-2005 show, there has also been remarkable consistency between the two show runners – Russell T. Davies (see e.g. “The Long Game” (2005), “Partners in Crime (2008)) and Steven Moffat (see e.g. “The Rebel Flesh”/“The Almost People” (2011), “The Bells of Saint John” (2013)).   Most interestingly, the show’s stance is markedly different from the cross-party consensus which has developed in British politics in favour of corporate domination (see David Harvey, A Brief History of Neoliberalism (OUP, 2007)).  Doctor Who’s satire thus forms a remarkable contrast with British politicians’ thirty-year love affair with the corporation.