Book Review: ‘Rose’ by Russell T. Davies


Rose – the novelisation

At 7pm on Saturday 26th March 2005, Doctor Who ran back on to Saturday night television: big budget, clever, confident — joyous — and looking an awful lot like Christopher Eccleston. It had been sixteen long years.

The series opener, Rose, was written by showunner Russell T. Davies and was the template for his reimagination of the concept. This April, a mere thirteen years after broadcast, BBC books resurrected the much-loved Target imprint to publish Davies’s novelisation of his landmark first script. Doctor Who fans know how to wait.

The novelisation as a form is widely regarded as nakedly commercial, derivative, and lacking any ‘literary’ worth but the Target novelisations of the original Doctor Who’s twenty–six–year run of stories hold a special place in the hearts of many older Whovians. In the age before video recorders, they were the only way to enjoy stories one had never seen, as repeats were rare and, barbarously, a number of the serials were erased or junked. It’s charming to see the Target style revived, from the cover illustration reminiscent of Chris Achelléos’s classics, to the lean prose and pleasingly kitsch chapter titles like ‘Descent into Terror’. Rose is not a work of literature (give that a few hundred years) but it’s very entertaining. For anyone who hasn’t read it (or caught up with their 2005 viewing), now’s the time I should say ‘spoilers, sweetie.’

Davies’s novel naturally follows the structure of his script but with the embellishments and reinstatements the written word affords. Following a prologue of a first chapter I’ll come to in a moment, the story opens on the humdrum life of the eponymous Rose Tyler: a nineteen-year-old girl waiting for her life to begin while she folds clothes in Henrik’s department store. She has a clueless but devoted boyfriend, Mickey; a brassy and overbearing mother, Jackie; and a deep ache for a life — and a self — that could be so much more. Then, one evening, a trip into the basement plunges her into a boundless and compelling new world: a bridgehead of Autons — killer plastic mannequins controlled by the Nestene Consciousness — and ‘that mysterious traveller in Space and Time known only as the Doctor’. Rose’s wait is over.


Rose Tyler and the Doctor. In the TARDIS. (Christopher Eccleston and Billie Piper)

As with the original episode, the story is told almost exclusively from Rose’s perspective: from the moment the Doctor takes her hand and says ‘run’, through his demolition of her job, attacks by a disembodied arm, plastic boyfriends, carnivorous wheelie bins, that impossible blue box, subterranean tanks of writhing alien fear, panic on the streets of London, to a final, life-defining choice. Rose was a smart reintroduction for a new generation that wisely avoided burdening the viewer with twenty-six years’ freight of back story. We learnt almost nothing about the Doctor aside from what he represents to Rose. The villainous Consciousness is actually on a return visit, having first plagued the Earth in the 1970 story, Spearhead from Space, but Davies wisely avoids having the Doctor mention even this. Fans will know but Rose (and casual viewers) didn’t need to. Almost all the exposition that is required is rather mischievously given to the character of Clive, the internet conspiracy theorist who has obsessed over the Doctor his whole life.


The Autons invade London: 2005

It was a very full forty-five minutes and it’s a full 197 page novel, expanding on the episode while remaining true to it. Davies writes with his customary brio and warmth, capturing the crackle of his original script well, right down to the short, energising declaratives (‘They ran!’ ‘The Nestene screamed!’) that peppered his scripts as stage directions. And there’s some sly ‘meta humour,’ such as when Rose wanders the basement of Henrik’s and hears, on a distant, ‘tinny radio,’ ‘some Irish comedian’s voice echoing in the dark;’ in reality, a live feed of Graham Norton mixed accidentally into the original transmission.[1] There’s also opportunity for Davies to indulge his fondness for set-piece destruction and gleeful slaughter. The climax of the TV episode, involving Autons massacring the residents of London, is expanded without heed to budget. Buses are overturned, the London Eye is sent into the Thames, washing MPs from their benches, and a regiment of dummies, from brides, to ballerinas, to fetishwear models, teem through the streets: decapitating, dismembering, and blasting all before them. And then there’s this, which surely would have made the Auton’s creator, Bob Holmes, raise his pipe in salute:

Every form of plastic felt an urge to move, tugging at a cellular level. An instinct to rise up and kill. Wires and panels and joints and plugs in kitchens and cars and computers and offices began a little dance. Cables yearned to strangle. Dolls grinned in anticipation of murder. Bags imagined suffocation. Nylon ropes knew their time had come. Laminated sheets of paper felt their edges sharpen into razors and prepared to spin. On deserted pacific islands, reefs of plastic bottles tumbled together to form giant, lurching, man-shaped idols, rearing up over the surf with no one to witness their birth.[2]

Rose is an action story but it’s with his characters that Davies always shines. His ability, with such economy, to craft real people where many writers would settle for walking props, is remarkable. Rose is and was the star and so requires little further elaboration, although she is perhaps allowed to be a little savvier in the novel than in the episode and is gifted a couple of lines that had been the Doctor’s. On Westminster Bridge, for example, he once explained how the TARDIS travels, she now deduces it. That aside, she remains Rose: smart, impulsive, selfish, compassionate, brave, nineteen.

Ironically perhaps, the least developed character in all of this is the Doctor, himself. Not once does Davies allow the reader to see anything from his point of view or be privy to his thoughts. He is alien and inaccessible and we know about him only what we are permitted. This is Rose’s story. It’s a bright move – the companion has always been our way in to the Doctor, our proxy. Davies uses this to fine effect, creating an intriguing puzzle of a central character. Jackie Tyler, too, needs little extra explanation beyond being ‘five foot nothing, age not relevant, karaoke champion of the Spinning Wheel, life and soul of the party but a monumental lightning storm when angry…’[3] When we see Jackie attempt to seduce the Doctor, we know her. We’ve all known a Jackie.


The Autons invade London: 1970

Davies borrows smartly from backstory and events depicted in subsequent episodes to add substance to familiar faces. Most substantially, we meet the caretaker at Hendriks who was merely a surname (‘Wilson’) in the finished episode. Here, and confined to only a prologue, he becomes Bernie Wilson and we know him. He’s a weak, seedy minor criminal, cast down to the basement for some small indiscretion years before, whose life is about to crumble under the weight of his greasy, picayune scheming. The merest brush with the Doctor’s world brings him his one moment of wisdom and then ends his desperation forever.


Russell T. Davies, showrunner.

Of all the characters introduced in Rose, it is Mickey Smith who grew most during Davies’s tenure. I never liked Mickey in that first episode – he seemed too much the cliché of the slightly wet, useless boyfriend and, in truth, I think Noel Clarke didn’t have a grip on the character in that first episode, either; playing him a little too much as a buffoon. That all changed in later stories, and Mickey Smith became one of the most rounded, believable, and well-played companions, ever. For this novelisation, it seems to me (and I may be completely wrong) that Davies faced a particular challenge. He couldn’t simply write the sketchy, comical Mickey of that first episode because that would ring false; yet nor could he have him fail to act as the established plot requires. You can’t rewrite history, not one line. So, I think Davies strikes a balance and gets it right. We see that the bitterness of Mickey’s tragedies has flowered into his compassion and humanity and his loyal, patient love for Rose. Yes, he still withers in culture shock where Rose blossoms. Yes, he still clings to her legs in fear because fifteen years of series history demands that he must; but fan readers know that this will be his making. We also see more clearly Rose’s genuine love and appreciation of him. We know that it won’t be enough to keep her from running into the TARDIS at the end, but Davies notably softens that rejection from the TV version merely by omitting a couple of lines. In the original, Rose kisses Mickey goodbye and thanks him. ‘For what?’ asks Mickey and Rose replies, ‘exactly’. In the revision, Rose simply says, ‘thank you’ and is instantly a kinder person.

We’re also introduced to Mickey’s previously unseen gang and his importance to them: Mook, Patrice, and Sally,

And Mickey was the centre of their lives. He’d been on the housing list at 16, and at 18 he’d been granted that holy grail, a flat of his own. The first thing he did, when given the keys to No. 90, was to prop that door open and make others welcome.[4]


The late Robert Holmes

They’re nicely drawn, likeable, and feel like they could  easily have become semi-regulars in some other draft of the series. I imagine they’d also infuriate the more reactionary fans as, by being reflective of modern London, they’re an unapologetically ‘diverse’ bunch: Mook Jayesundra, Patrice Okereke and Sally (formerly Stephen) Salter. In fact, combined with the scene in which Clive shows Rose the apparently different people who’ve held the title of the Doctor, I can’t believe RTD wasn’t gleefully winding-up the ‘PC-gone-mad’ pack. In the televised episode, the only Doctor Clive shows Rose is Nine. Here, Davies reaches into future-past, with the ‘man with two suits, brown and blue,’ the ‘tweed jacket and bow tie,’ and ‘a blond woman in braces;’ before giving us a ‘tall, bald black woman,’ and a ‘young girl or boy in a hi-tech wheelchair’. So that’s every box ticked in gammon-shaded blood, then. Somewhere, a big, gay Welshman is still hooting.

Another character given added weight is Clive Finch, the comical internet conspiracist theorist played with such charm by Mark Benton. Davies provides an intriguing explanation for Clive’s obsession with the Doctor and reaches back into series mythology, in this case to an iconic death in the 1988 classic, Remembrance of the Daleks. Clive’s death as the Autons ravage London is the more tragic because it is the heroism of the ordinary man, augured by an epiphany:

All of Clive’s fantasies were now becoming facts, right before his eyes. But if the glories were true then so were the terrors… To protect his wife and children, Clive simply opened up his arms. He would greet the dummy in friendship, or stop it with his body, whatever it took. And he found himself smiling, even as he started to cry. Because here it was at last. Adventure.

Here we see a restatement of the novel’s central theme: the adventure — and cost — of touching the Doctor. Clive never meets him, yet contact through his dead father and Rose is enough. We see him become like the Doctor by moving to embrace the Other while also being preparing to defend against it. The Doctor ruins his life and redeems it, all without ever knowing who he is. Bernie Wilson never meets the Doctor but touching his world opens up his own, even at the cost of his life. And when Rose Tyler takes the Doctor’s hand, he shows her the possibility of the universe and the possibility within herself.



[1] An off-air live audio feed from BBC3’s ‘Strictly Dance Fever’ was mixed accidentally into the BBC1 audio; marking the first of Graham Norton’s two unwanted intrusions into the programme (the second occurring in 2011).

[2] Rose, p. 170. Yes, I know plastic doesn’t have cells.

[3] Rose, p. 25.

[4] Rose, p. 52.


Tales of Self-Laid Eggs

Nadine Dorries tweet

A fundamental misunderstanding of cause and effect.

Last month, news-sellers reported that BAE Systems (Purveyors of Finest Quality Death to the Gentry) had won a contract to flog the Australian government nine new warships, which will ‘provide the Australian Defence Force with the highest levels of lethality and deterrence.’[i] British companies will supply a number of the internal systems and so play a very real role in Australia’s ongoing battle to repel the onslaught of drowning asylum seekers.[ii]

As one might expect, a clutch of Brexiteers, led by the Ragged-Trousered Stockbroker, Nigel Farage, took time from managing their foreign citizenship claims and overseas investment funds to trumpet this £20bn victory for Global Britain. Nadine Dorries MP lauded it as an example of just the sort of trade deal (completed while we’re still a member of the EU) that the EU (of which we are still a member) has prevented us from doing (it hasn’t).

In fact, though a BAE design, the ships will not be built in the UK at all, but in Australian shipyards, and Britain will receive only a slice of the £19.6bn headline figure. But I’m not concerned here with Brexit, Tory boosterism or even exactly how much national pride should attach to selling engines of nautical slaughter. Instead, consider this caveat, tucked away in the analysis by the BBC’s Scottish business editor Douglas Fraser,

However, this looks like a design which was heavily subsidised by the UK taxpayer, being sold overseas, and wholly to the benefit of BAE Systems. It appears that the UK taxpayer sees none of the direct payback or royalties from that investment.[iii]

This is not unusual. There is a long record, in the US and UK, of the public sector incubating and subsidising private sector success stories; something that the champions of capitalism generally try to hide under a thicket of ‘free market’ euphuism. They prefer instead the ideology of the ‘self-made man’ (or company) that rises to prominence and wealth through nothing but their own vision and hard work. Sometimes, this pretence requires the most preposterous elision; take for instance Philip Anschutz, who the Forbes 400 Rich List in 1998 described as ‘self-made’ even though he had inherited an oil and gas field worth $500 million.[iv]

More generally, there is a long story of the public sector supporting and protecting the private sector and free market. I’ll list a few examples that I don’t have space to discuss: developing and promoting a culture of property rights and, later, intellectual property rights; providing infrastructure, such as roads, railways, ports, power, and communication; providing an educated workforce through a public school system; subsidising low wages through a welfare state; underwriting risky overseas sales (e.g. British export credit guarantees); offering tax breaks and inducements for investment (such as export processing zones); privatisations, bail-outs (such as of the banks in 2008), treating work- or product-related illness;[v] repairing environmental damage; and providing cheap fuel through periodic liberation of oil supplies.

The most obvious form of public sector support for the private sector, and the one that has the worst reputation, is to prevent a free market at all through protectionism: the use of tariff and non-tariff barriers to prevent overseas competitors trouncing one’s domestic industries. While it’s officially denounced – especially by enthusiastic practitioners such as Reagan and Trump –  it’s fair to say that protectionism has characterised US and UK industrial development (and elsewhere); not least through the acquisition of empire.[vi] The US began to champion freer trade only following World War II; at least partly fulfilling the prediction of its 18th president, Ulysses S. Grant, that ‘within 200 years, when America has gotten out of protection all that it can offer, it too will adopt free trade.’[vii]

Even when they don’t protect industries from international competition, governments still provide considerable support in other ways. Despite the fall of communism and the ascendance, until 2008 at least, of ‘free market’ ideology, it’s accurate to say that western capitalist societies still have substantially planned economies. Most obviously, governments plan economies through state-owned enterprises, through Research & Development (R&D), infrastructure spending, and through sectoral industrial policy. Additionally, modern corporate capitalism ensures that a handful of enormously powerful transnational corporations plan their activities, often in concert (often in conflict) with governments.[viii] It’s R&D spending and the use of government purchasing that I’m going to discuss here.

In the UK and particularly the US, government spending on scientific and ‘defence’ R&D has been enormous. For instance, between the 50s and 90s, US federal government spending accounted for 50-70% of the country’s entire R&D spending.[ix]  As late as 1958, federal funding covered an estimated 85% of total R&D on electronics.[x] In the 1950s and 60s, the Pentagon supplied more than 30% of IBM’s R&D budget.[xi] Mariana Mazzucato, in The Entrepreneurial State, summarises the history of hi-tech as one in which ‘nearly all the technological revolutions of the past – from the Internet to today’s green tech revolution – required a massive push from the state.’[xii]

The US’s Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) is a fine example of the US Government incubating hi-tech before it’s released to the market. DARPA was set up in 1958 to give the US ‘technological superiority’ in multiple sectors of its economy and has always been ‘aggressively mission-oriented’ rather than merely profit-oriented. With a budget of $3bn annually, it is structured to ‘bridge the gap between blue-sky academic work, with long time horizons, and the more incremental technological development occurring within the military.[xiii] 

Going way beyond simply funding research, DARPA funded the formation of computer science departments, provided start-up firms with early research support, contributed to semi-conductor research and support to human-computer interface research and oversaw the early stages of the Internet… such strategies contributed hugely to the development of the computer industry during the 1960s and 1970s, and many of the technologies later incorporated in the design of the personal computer were developed by DARPA-funded researchers[xiv]

Early achievements for DARPA were ‘key technologies’ such as ‘high-speed networking, advances in integrated circuits, and the emergence of massively parallel super-computers’.[xv] Such was its success that, under the first Clinton Administration (1993-96), DARPA became the ‘lead agency in a new effort to help fledgling technologies gain a hold in commercial markets.’[xvi] In the 1970s, DARPA funded a laboratory affiliated with the University of Southern California where anyone who believed they had developed a superior design of microchip could get it fabricated to prototype stage. By so doing, the state subsidised the birth of personal computers in the 1970s, the first of which Apple introduced in 1976.[xvii] As the New York Times reported as far back as 1989, ‘many fundamental computer technologies… can be traced to [DARPA’s] backing, including the basic graphics techniques that make the Apple Macintosh computer easy to use’.[xviii] More of Apple in a moment, but let’s also note that much of this spending was disguised (or at least rendered more ideologically palatable) by being conducted by DARPA. The NYT again:

Under the rubric of national security, the Pentagon can undertake programs like Sematech [a research consortium to help the US semiconductor industry compete] that would arouse opposition if done by another agency in the name of industrial policy…[xix]

And DARPA is not the only instrument of government support. Mazzucato discusses several more, including the Small Business Innovation Research (SBIR) Programme and the Orphan Drug Act. Founded in 1982, SBIR plays an increasingly influential role as the first port of call for entrepreneurs looking for funding and, with a budget of $2bn annually, has ‘guided the commercialisation of hundreds of new technologies from the laboratory to the market.’[xx] The Orphan Drug Act of 1983 provides tax incentives, R&D subsidies, fast-track drug approval and strong intellectual property and marketing rights for products designed to treat conditions suffered by fewer than 200,000 people. This support played an important role in the development of major players, such as Biogen and Genentech, but has also successfully been exploited by giants such as GlaxoSmithKline, Roche, and Pfizer.[xxi]  DARPA, SBIR, and the Orphan Drug Act are just three, very large, programmes of market intervention that the US has run over decades.

Let’s go back to Apple for a moment. Discuss the achievements of free market capitalism on Twitter for more than ten minutes and someone will be bound to hold up the ubiquitous iPhone as clinching proof that the profit motive leads to shiny, unscratchable utopia.  Mazzucato makes Apple’s flagship a centrepiece of her study and devotes an entire chapter to tracing the origin of almost its every bell and whistle to the public sector. As a ‘smart’ phone it would be nothing without the Internet; the earliest incarnation of which (ARPANET) was developed by DARPA in the late 60s (with a parallel system built by the National Physical Laboratory in the UK). Touchscreens can be dated back to the work of E. A. Thompson at the Royal Radar Establishment in Malvern in the 1960s and the Centre for European Nuclear Research (CERN) in the 1970s.[xxii] Siri began life as the SRI-led Cognitive Assistant that Learns and Organizes (CALO) project within DARPA’s Personalized Assistant that Learns (PAL), a joint programme with the Swiss Institute of Technology (EPFL). SRI spun off Siri in 2007 as a commercial venture and Apple bought it in 2010, integrating it into the iPhone 4S in 2011.[xxiii] LCD screens were first created by Westinghouse in the 1970s and the work was funded almost exclusively by the US Army when companies such as Apple, 3M, IBM, XEROX, DEC, and Compaq refused to take the risk. The Lithium Ion battery was developed with government funding and the cornerstones of the World Wide Web (HTTP and HTML) were first implemented at CERN. Finally, GPS began life as NAVSTAR, a strictly military use system, to this day still funded by the US Airforce.[xxiv] For a fuller view, consider this schematic:


Taken from Mazzucato (2013[2018), p. 116

So that’s a sample of the US picture. Over the pond, there is Innovate UK, which in 2016-17 had a budget of £561m and, through competitions, awarded grants of between £250K and £10m to businesses and research organisations working on emerging technologies; health and life sciences; infrastructure systems; and manufacturing and materials. The London Co-Investment Fund supports start-ups in the capital and disburses money from a purse including £25 million from the Mayor of London’s Growing Places Fund. Up until 2015, the Government also provided discounted broadband to 50,000 businesses.[xxv]

As of 2017, the British government (like the US) is ‘pouring billions of pounds’ into Artificial Intelligence research, 5G, and driverless cars. ‘Investment in electric vehicles,’ reported Cnet last November, ‘includes £400 million for a charging infrastructure fund, an extra £100 million in Plug-In-Car Grant, which subsidises purchases of electric vehicles, and £40 million in charging R&D.’ This government spending, which also includes more computer science teachers in schools, is to ‘help businesses grow to scale and hopefully find the UK’s next tech unicorn.’[xxvi]


E. A. Thompson’s early touchscreen

A notable difference between state investment and private investment is that the state provides ‘patient capital’ while the private sector is ‘impatient’.[xxvii]  The state takes the long-term view, often sinking large sums into areas that are merely theoretical. In this sense, it deals with uncertainty rather than merely risk. Risk is quantifiable and can be priced into business decisions. Venture Capitalists (VCs) can deal with risk and accept a certain amount of it; a quantified possibility that a given investment won’t come off.  Uncertainty, conversely, cannot be quantified or priced into a business venture. It’s the ‘unknown unknowns’ that may mean years of patient research lead into a wall. Much government investment occurs long before VC comes into play; using public funds to gradually carve eldritch clouds of uncertainty into a still risky but, at least defined, landscape upon which a market can be built.

The Internet and nanotechnology are both examples of this process. The market had no interest in either because they were too long-term (‘blue sky’ as the jargon has it). There was no clear idea of a product, a demand for that product, or the attendant risks. There was only uncertainty. What was required was mission-oriented rather than profit-oriented effort. Similarly, it’s highly unlikely the market would ever have put a man on the moon. There was little obvious commercial opportunity, too much basic research required, and the uncertainty was simply too high. It took the public sector — the vast sums of money, the herculean intellectual effort, and the terrible sacrifice of life — to conquer that uncertainty and create a world in which, decades later, Elon Musk could spend millions proving that no black hole sucks as hard as an arsehole.


Welcome to Earth. Intelligent pop: 0

The state doesn’t merely incubate products by funding their development or the science that leads to them. Government can be the main, if not their only, customer. The US Government is the ‘single largest purchaser of goods and services in the world’ and a ‘vital source of business for companies…’[xxviii] To take a past example, Fortune Magazine conceded in 1948 that ‘the aircraft industry today cannot satisfactorily exist in a pure, competitive, unsubsidized, “free-enterprise” economy.  It never has been able to. Its huge customer has always been the United States Government, whether in war or in peace.’[xxix]  As late as 1968, the US military bought 40% of all semiconductor production and the willingness of the US Government to buy processor chips ‘in quantity at premium prices allowed a growing number of companies to refine their production skills and develop elaborate manufacturing facilities.’[xxx] In 2016, the US Government became the top purchaser (along with private households) of healthcare products, spending $918.5bn annually.[xxxi]

In the UK, the government ‘acts as a significant purchaser in various sectors of the economy,’ with the two ‘stand out’ areas being pharmaceuticals and defence.[xxxii] Since 1957, the UK Government has regulated the price of pharmaceuticals with a policy, which (since 1969) has also had as its objective ‘a strong and profitable pharmaceutical industry’.

Participation by drug companies is voluntary, but universal. Every five years the government sets out a price trajectory that is designed to provide a reasonable rate of return, while ensuring value for money for taxpayers.[xxxiii]

The policy is seen as a success, in that it has kept prices down for the consumer, but is also believed by some experts to have been ‘critical in explaining the difference between the success of British pharmaceutical firms and the failure of their French rivals.’[xxxiv]

In defence, the Government is essentially the sole customer because our exports are comparatively slender. According to an evidence paper submitted to the UK Government’s ‘Foresight Future of Manufacturing’ project in 2013, ‘government purchasing decisions in defence have directly led to the maintenance of a defence sector of reasonable size’.[xxxv] The authors note that, while expensive, the system is successful in that it at least allows Britain to ‘preserve some modicum of military independence.’[xxxvi] Interestingly, they also argue that since foreign exports are so limited, policy in this area should be seen as being about preserving domestic military production capability and so a part of defence rather than industrial policy. In which case, one might wonder why we recycle larges sums of public money into private profit when these companies who are effectively sub-departments of the state.

All of the forgoing raises an obvious question. What does the public sector get in return for its investment; for all the forms of support we’ve discussed? It’s an axiom of business that those who take risks should also take a fair share of the reward when those risks pay off. For the state, this could take two forms. One would be a direct return on the investment made in a new technology, product or supportive measure. This very often does not happen; costs might be socialised, but profits are largely privatised (or the money is squandered). Where was the return on the public sector’s investment in computing or the Internet? SIRI cost at least $150m to develop and, while Apple paid hundreds of millions for it, that money did not go back to the American taxpayer but to the spun-off company that owned it and some VCs who put in an extra $24m late in the development process.[xxxvii]  Take for another example the US telephone companies. As David Rosen wrote in 2013 for Counterpunch,

They’ve pocketed an estimated $360 billion through questionable rate increases, subsidies, tax breaks and overcharges.  Instead of building out the “information superhighway” promised by Al Gore two decades ago, they directed the money to building-out 2nd-rate wireless businesses, overpaying their executives and rewarding stockholders – and all at the customer’s expense.  As a result, the U.S. has become a 2nd tier communications nation, ranked 15th in broadband.[xxxviii]

One can argue that jobs (effectively state-subsidized jobs) are created, but hi-tech firms in particular specialise in producing their goods offshore and for low pay. For example, Mazzucato cites figures estimating that the top nine executives working for Apple together pocketed in 2012 the same amount of money that it took 95,000 of their workers to earn.[xxxix] And we should all remember that jobs are not a gift or a favour from business – they are a transaction, in which the employee comes off worse.

Of course, the main way that the public sector should recoup its investment in the private sector is through taxation and here, dear reader, we hardly need tarry for long. The headline stories of the likes of the GAFA companies (Google, Amazon, Facebook, and Apple) distract from a far larger story of big business avoiding, evading, and lobbying-away tax that I’m not going into here. It suffices to say that the current controversy over large companies not paying their fair share of tax isn’t merely about the state imposing duties on companies in order to fund its expenditure. Rather, it’s often a case of payback: companies returning on the investment the public sector has made, if not in them directly, then in creating the arena in which they operate. The GAFA organisations only exist because of the public sector. It was the American and British state that created the personal computer, the Internet, the World Wide Web, and the capacity to process ‘Big Data’ on which Facebook and Amazon rely. It was the American state, via the SBIR Programme, that provided Apple with its start-up funding. It was the American state that created the Backrub search algorithm on which Google is based.[xl] And it is the state that keeps them safe, builds roads for their customers to reach them, ports and railways for their suppliers to stock them, educates and cares for their workers, and — through welfare payments — subsidizes their wage bill.

What can we conclude from all of this? Five things, I think. Firstly, that the stereotype of the bold, dynamic private sector versus the conservative, staid public sector often reverses the truth. History shows the public sector very frequently to be far more adventurous and farsighted than the private sector. It’s the first dragon in the den: there on the ground floor, thinking out of the box, looking up at the blue sky and scanning the horizon, generating the thought shower, running with it, then taking it to the next level, and not just going for the low-hanging fruit.  It’s Big Business’s mentor, its patron, its partner, and its best customer. We’ve seen how the state is a heavy investor in innovation but, more than that, the public sector is space in which the market is born and thrives. Without the state clearing the ground and guarding the perimeters, there’s nowhere safe to put the market.

Secondly, the conservatism of the private sector is driven by its need to keep one eye on the bottom line, the quarterly return. While the state, at its best, can be driven by a mission, corporations are powered by the fiduciary duty; the need, above all other considerations, to make money for their shareholders.[xli] Yes, there are genuine entrepreneurs, people with a dream, and start-ups with a vision, but corporations as legal entities care only about making the next buck. Putting the argument at its strongest, there can be no sense of public service among these paper psychopaths.

Thirdly, all economies are planned by somebody. Pretending that ‘leaving it to the market’ means that one’s economy is not planned is disingenuous. Rather, the question should be who does the planning: democratically-elected government at the national level and workers’ councils lower down or barely accountable private capital driven by profit?

Fourthly, its past time for an accounting of the true role of the public sector in the world we see around us and carry in our pockets. Not only that, but the investment of workers in innovation should be properly understood, acknowledged, and rewarded – rather than merely perpetuating a culture in which people are told to just shut up and be grateful for the gift of employment.

Finally, the giants of the private sector must be made to realise that they’re cutting away the branch on which they sit. By avoiding tax, and contributing to the hollowing out of the state, concentrated private capital is increasingly parasitic on a withering public sector. And I do mean parasitic rather than merely symbiotic, since the parasite is in danger of killing its host and, before that, of cutting the vital stream of nourishment that keeps it alive: basic scientific research. The less material capacity and ideological freedom the state has to imagine, research, invest, and — yes — often fail, the less fruit will be there for the likes of Apple to pluck. The well of ideas will run dry. The golden eggs need to take better care of the goose that laid them.



“Self made men, indeed! Why don’t you tell me of the self-laid egg?” is a quotation attributed to the political scientist, Francis Leiber, in 1882

[i] BBC News ‘BAE wins multi-billion pound Australian warship contract,’ 29th June 2018, available at (Accessed 08/07/2018).

[ii] See Jonathan Pearlman ‘Australia sends in its navy to push asylum-seeker boats back to Indonesia,’ The Telegraph, 7th January 2014, available at (Accessed 12/07/2018); Ben Doherty and Calla Wahlquist, ‘Australia among 30 countries illegally forcing return of refugees, Amnesty says,’ Guardian 24th February 2016, available at (Accessed 12/07/2018); Mark Isaacs ‘There’s No Escape From Australia’s Refugee Gulag,’ Foreign Policy 30th April 2018, available at (Accessed 12/07/2018)

[iii] BBC News, op. cit.

[iv] Responsible Wealth (2004 Press Release) ‘Forbes 400 Richest Americans: They Didn’t Do It Alone’ 24th September 2004, available at (accessed 09/07/2018)

[v] To give just one example, according to one estimate, between 2000 and 2004 in the US smoking caused more than $193 billion in annual health-related costs, including smoking-attributable medical costs and productivity losses (cited in David Rosen ‘Socialize Costs, Privatize Profits,’ Counterpunch, March 1st, 2013, available at  (Accessed 09/07/2018) ).

[vi] See Ha-Joon Chang (2007) “Bad Samaritans. The Guilty Secrets of Rich Nations & The Threat to Global Prosperity,” chap. 2.

[vii] Chang (2010), pp. 55-67.

[viii] See Ha-Joon Chang (2010) “23 Things They Don’t Tell You About Capitalism,” pp. 199-200.

[ix] Chang (2007), p. 55.

[x] Laura D’Andrea Tyson (1992) ‘Who’s Bashing Whom?: Trade Conflict in High-Technology Industries,’ p. 90.

[xi] Winfried Ruigrock and Rob Van Tulder (1995) ‘The Logic of International Restructuring,’

  1. 220-21, quoted in quoted in Michael M’Gehee ‘Free Market Capitalism and the Pentagon System,’ Znet March 30, 2010, available at Note that this may not be the correct authorship of the article as the url attributes it to a Donald M. Ferguson.

[xii] Mariana Mazzucato (2013 [2018]) “The Myth of the Entrepreneurial State. Debunking Private vs Public Sector Myths,” p. 6.

[xiii] Mazzucato (2013 [2018]), p. 81 DARPA is also often referred to as ARPA, dropping the ‘Defense’.

[xiv] Mazzucato (2013 [2018]), p. 82

[xv] Elizabeth Corcoran, “Computing’s controversial patron,” Science, April 2, 1993, p. 20, retrieved from  (07/07/2018)

[xvi] Corcoran, op. cit.

[xvii] Mazzucato (2013 [2018]), p. 84

[xviii] Andrew Pollack, “America’s Answer to Japan’s MITI,” New York Times, March 5, 1989, section 3, p. 1, quoted in M’Gehee (2010).

[xix] Pollack, op. cit.

[xx] Mazzucato (2013 [2018]), pp. 85-86.

[xxi] Mazzucato (2013 [2018]), pp. 87-88. Mazzucato notes that, as the act allows multiple versions of effectively the same drug to be designated ‘orphan’, Big Pharma has been able to clean up at public expense. She cites a drug developed by Novartis for chronic myelogenous leukaemia that, when marketed as a treatment for four other conditions, received the same designation (and support) each time.

[xxii] Johnson described his work in an article entitled ‘Touch display—a novel input/output device for computers,’ published in Electronics Letters. For more of the history, see Florence Ion, ‘From touch displays to the Surface: A brief history of touchscreen technology,’ ARSTechnica 4th April 2013, available at (Accessed 12/07/2018).

[xxiii] SRI International, ‘SIRI’ undated, available at!&innovation=siri (Accessed 10/07/2018).

[xxiv] Mazzucato (2013 [2018]), p. 6, chap. 5.

[xxv] Scott Carey, ‘How the UK government supports technology start-ups | How to get government backing for your start-up,’ techworld, 11th January, 2017, available at (accessed 08/07/2018).

[xxvi] Katie Collins, ‘AI, 5G, driverless cars on the government’s tech agenda,’ Cnet, 22nd November 2017, available at (accessed 08/07/2018).

[xxvii] Daniel Cichocki ‘Impatient for growth? Time to unlock Patient Capital…’ UK Finance, 27th November 2017, available at (accessed 11/07/2018).

[xxviii] K&L Gates Public Policy and Law Practice ‘Government Contracts and Procurement,’ 2011, available at (accessed 13/07/2018).

[xxix] ‘Shall we have Airplanes?’ Fortune, January 1948, quoted in M’Gehee (2010).

[xxx] Tyson (1992), p. 88.

[xxxi] Kerry Young ‘Federal Government Emerges as Top Health Buyer in New Analysis,’ Commonwealth Fund, 5th December 2016, available at (Accessed 13/07/2018).

[xxxii] Stephen Broadberry and Tim Leunig (2013) ‘The impact of Government policies on UK manufacturing since 1945. Future of Manufacturing Evidence Paper 2’, Foresight Government Office for Science, pp. 28-30, available at (Accessed 10/07/2018)

[xxxiii] Broadberry and Leunig (2018) op. cit.

[xxxiv] Broadberry and Leunig (2018) op. cit. Note that authors cite other experts who question the decisive role the scheme may have had. However, as the other factors they cite as perhaps being more important (‘Britain’s strong record in biomedical research at university level, the early introduction of efficacy regulation and the role of the NHS’) are all examples of public sector support or intervention, this does not detract from my argument.

[xxxv] Broadberry and Leunig (2018), p. 4.

[xxxvi] Ibid, p. 30.

[xxxvii] Erick Schonfeld ‘Silicon Valley Buzz: Apple Paid More Than $200 Million For Siri To Get Into Mobile Search,’ Techbuzz 28th April, 2010, available at (accessed 12/07/2018); Note that an argument can be made to justify this, as it was by Norman Winarsky of SRI in an interview in 2010. ‘When I put it to him that $150 million was a lot for taxpayers to spend on a technology that’s now been taken inside Apple, he corrected my premise on several counts, arguing that acquisitions are a natural outcome of SRI’s spinoff process. “I think the Bayh-Dole Act is one of the most brilliant acts in the history of Congress,” Winarsky says. “What you call ‘taking the technology inside’ has been responsible in large part for the creation of companies like Intel, Cisco, Apple, and Sun. The government would have had to pay billions of dollars, perhaps, to continue to advance this technology, while instead the commercial marketplace is making it available to everybody. Consumer revenue is what drives future products, rather than our taxes.”’ This argument still does not address the loss made by the state and, even assuming Apple went on to spend ‘billions’ developing SIRI, it has made billions selling it. Plus, it has invested its billions much later down the line when the state has turned the uncertainty into manageable risk. Wade Roush ‘The Story of Siri, from Birth at SRI to Acquisition by Apple—Virtual Personal Assistants Go Mobile,’ Xconomy 14th June 2010, available at

[xxxviii] Rosen (2013) op. cit.

[xxxix] (Shapiro 2012) cited in Mazzucato (2013 [2018]), p. 185.

[xl] John Battelle ‘The Birth of Google,’ Wired 8th January 2005, available at (accessed 11/07/2018)

[xli] See Joel Bakan (2004) ‘The Corporation. The Pathological Pursuit of Profit and Power,’ Chap. 2.