skip to main content
Skip header Section
The Government Machine: A Revolutionary History of the ComputerOctober 2003
Publisher:
  • MIT Press
  • 55 Hayward St.
  • Cambridge
  • MA
  • United States
ISBN:978-0-262-01202-7
Published:01 October 2003
Skip Bibliometrics Section
Bibliometrics
Contributors
  • University College London

Recommendations

Reviews

G. Smith

In this book, the author describes how the British government exemplifies the metaphor of organization as machine, and consequently adopts systematic procedures, statistical methods, and ultimately, electronic computers. Agar examines philosophical metaphors associated with two centuries of Western thought. Central to this examination are philosophical warhorses ranging from Machiavelli, through Bodin, Hobbes, Rousseau, and Mill, to Marx and Bagehot. The author is on illuminating ground here, and he interestingly demonstrates the interplay between these various mechanistic metaphors, and the practical politics of early nineteenth century politicians such as Charles Babbage, with the scholarly understanding of the period as demonstrated in the work of Otto Mayr. This is all well and good. Agar’s real concern, however, is the “relationship of humans and machines,” as it relates “to a peculiarly important machine: the general-purpose computer” (page 3). Furthermore, he argues “that the apotheosis of the civil servant can be found,” albeit, surprisingly, in the computer (page 3). Agar’s argument is that the government machine par excellence is the permanent civil service. Following Habermas’ argument, regarding the “scientization of politics,” nineteenth century British governance relies less on gentlemanly codes of conduct, and more on rational and professional routines of specialist expertise (page 7). The standard historiography [1,2] maintains that experts degenerated to mere specialists, demoted to generalist products as servants to the civil service. Agar takes issue with this perspective, and demonstrates that overlapping and succeeding experts continue to arise. He is convincing here, and I do not doubt that the civil service continued to be characterized by specialized technocrats, the expert statisticians of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Bureaucratization of Britain most significantly takes place in the Treasury. Most importantly, though, for the history of computing, is that warfare alters informational techniques. Expertise informs “the culture of the wartime command economy” (page 12). It is at this moment that the first stored-program electronic computer enters the story. Wartime organizations combine their expertise, concerned as they are with military prowess, and at Manchester University, a computer is built. The main course of Agar’s argument is that government administration and office mechanization are inextricably connected, and thus, from 1945 through the 1970s, the Treasury’s Organization and Methods movement held sway. Thereafter, though, computerization is more controversial, since it failed to deliver (circa the 1980s through 1990s). More recently, computers have been embroiled in debates concerning big government (page 12). I do take issue with certain aspects of this book. Agar is on good ground with the philosophical metaphor of mechanization. I find more troubling, though, his analysis of the relationship between humans and machines, and a point he never addresses regarding his own use of evidence. A series of illustrations is used to supplement his points regarding the civil servant as a computing machine. Although an arranged Victorian bureaucrat’s desk set is displayed, as typical for museum viewing, in an idealized fashion, the same conclusion should not be drawn for human subjects. Thus, the circa 1920 Egyptians pictured in Figure 5.3, the woman operating a 1930s machine in Figure 5.9, a “typical government office of the early twentieth century” (Figure 5.13), “more mechanized government” (Figure 5.13), and the six Royal Air Force pictures (Figure 6.9) do not support Agar’s contention. The machines, the people, and thus the portrayals are completely staged and sanitized for formal pictures. These offices look like no real offices that people inhabit. Not a hair on their heads is mussed, and not a snippet of paper is out of place. Servants are machines__?__ Not in genuine offices inhabited by human beings. More troubling, perhaps, is the title of this volume. A review is necessary to elucidate the actual contents of this text. People interested in computing history will find less that interests them here than they might expect in a volume subtitled “A revolutionary history of the computer.” Along these lines, this is, indeed, not a general history of the computer at all, but, more strictly speaking, an examination of how the British governmental bureaucracy mechanized its operations, and unwittingly paved the way for the ultimate efficiency, the mechanical tool of the computer, and the drones who run them. People not interested in this more peculiarly British development should pass on this volume. Finally, the volume needs minor editing. Randomly, I noted a necessary article “the” needed on page 2, and a second parenthesis required on page 501. I am a bit taken aback that the publisher did not catch these edits before publishing. Also, the text would be clearer with a list of illustrations (there is none), and, most importantly, a bibliography would have been very helpful. Online Computing Reviews Service

Access critical reviews of Computing literature here

Become a reviewer for Computing Reviews.