“Internal memos from the BBC’s original series, unearthed in 2010, describe the ‘metaphysical change’ of the Doctor’s regeneration as ‘an experience in which he relives some of the most unendurable moments of his long life, including the galactic war.’ (No doubt the writers of the John Hurt arc leapt in joy to read that.) ‘It is,’ continue the memos, ‘as if he had had the LSD drug and instead of experiencing the kicks, he has the hell and dank horror which can be its effect.’”
—Tim Martin et al., “The Doctor’s regeneration was based on a bad acid trip,” The Daily Telegraph (2015)
Scientists have had a tough time of it on the silver screen, television as well as movies. And the gap between the expert knowledge of the scientist and the public understanding of science serves at the source of most fictional representations of the scientist. That gap had usually been filled by clichéd and stereotypical characterizations of one type or another. Or, as one MGM executive wrote to Albert Einstein in 1946 about a screenplay for a highly fictionalized tale of the first atom bomb, “it must be realized that dramatic truth is just as compelling a requirement on us as veritable truth is on a scientist.” One assumes such “dramatic truth” was the way in which the expert knowledge of the scientist was made to “come alive” to mass audiences.
In time, we began to realize just how potent the dramatic truth of those “Hollywood” images of the scientist could be. Six years before Doctor Who began, American anthropologist Margaret Mead carried out a pioneering survey of thirty-five thousand American high school kids. She was interested in how school kids tend to draw or describe their mental image of the scientist. The kids were asked to complete the sentence “when I think about a scientist, I think of . . . ” The results from the 1957 study came out like this:
The scientist is a man who wears a white coat and works in a lab . . . he may be stooped and tired. He is surrounded by equipment: test tubes, Bunsen burners, flasks, and bottles . . . he experiments with plants and animals, cutting them apart, injecting serum into animals . . . he is a very intelligent man—a genius or almost a genius . . . if he works for the government, he has to keep dangerous secrets . . . if he works for a big company, he has to do as he is told; he is just a cog in a machine . . . he may even sell secrets to the enemy. His work may be dangerous. Chemicals may explode. He may be hurt by radiation, or may die . . . he bores his wife, his children, and their friends with incessant talk that no one can understand . . . he is never home.
The results of further studies over the next forty years became worryingly consistent. Mead’s initial conclusions had proved difficult reading. These images of the scientist held very little attraction for young Americans. The main culprit? The mass media image of the scientist. Their portrayals were of either “cogs in the machine,” or “isolated” loners. But, despite publicity of the surveys, the same stereotypes remained for decades. Sure, they evolved, but they also abided. American cultural commentator Theodore Roszak put it like this:
Asked to nominate a worthy successor to Victor Frankenstein’s macabre brainchild, what should we choose from our contemporary inventory of terrors? The Bomb? The cyborg? The genetically synthesized android? The despot computer? Modern science provides us with a surfeit of monsters, does it not? I realize there are many scientists—perhaps the majority of them—who believe that these and a thousand other perversions of their genius have been laid unjustly at their doorstep. These monsters, they would insist, are the bastards of technology; sins of applied, not pure science. Perhaps it comforts their conscience somewhat to invoke this much-muddled division of labor . . . Dr. Faustus, Dr. Frankenstein, Dr. Moreau, Dr. Jekyll, Dr. Cyclops, Dr. Caligari, Dr. Strangelove. The scientist who does not face up to the warning in this persistent folklore of mad doctors is himself the worst enemy of science.
Or as American cultural historian David Skal put it, “The mad scientist is so ingrained in modern thought, that you almost don’t notice he is there.” Is the Doctor to be added to the list from Frankenstein to Strangelove? To what extent has our Doctor been part of this persistent folklore of mad doctors? The gap between the expert knowledge of the scientist and the public understanding of science goes back to the scientific revolution. That’s when ideas like “technical” and “popular” first came to the fore. That gap has since been filled by saints like Isaac Newton and sinners like Victor Frankenstein. But Doctor Who began merely a few years after Mead’s initial study. Has the Doctor been guilty of the same persistent folklore of mad doctors?
According to academic Roslynn Haynes, a series of sequential images of scientists have become deeply embedded in our culture. Those images of cinematic stereotypes are:
• The Alchemist (late sixteenth century): the scientist who seeks arcane and forbidden knowledge, mostly works alone, and is driven by a madness for power, tending to be intellectually arrogant.
• The Absent-Minded Professor (mid-seventeenth century): an obsessive scientist, a reductionist who narrows science down to the single-minded search for a tiny aspect of knowledge, so much so that he neglects social responsibilities.
• The Inhuman Rationalist (early nineteenth century): a suppressor of human emotions in favor of detached enquiry, and who ignores the social dimensions of scientific findings.
• The Heroic Adventurer (late nineteenth century): intrepid researcher who boldly goes where no one has gone before, and who may be rather eccentric.
• The Helpless Scientist (mid-twentieth century): well-intentioned researcher whose findings are hijacked by government or corporate concerns.
• The Social Idealist (mid-twentieth century): influenced by late H. G. Wells, this idealist is driven by social conscience rather than hard research. Their maverick heroism stems from non-compliance with government or corporate concerns.
Until the late twentieth century, writers have overwhelmingly condemned science and scientists. And many stories of scientists stuck to one or more of the stereotypes above. But, since the 1990s, science has acquired a more humane image. Scientists are now rarely objects of fear or mockery. Scientists combat deadly viruses. Scientists save endangered species. And scientists communicate the climate crisis. Novelists have become more intent on authenticity in presenting science and the motives and moral dilemmas of scientists.
And, we might argue, Doctor Who was ahead of the curve. From the start, the Doctor was portrayed more in the kindly vein of the heroic adventurer or the social idealist. Take a look at a selected list of Doctors below and see if you agree with my characterizations.
Frail-looking and slightly aloof, the First Doctor assumed many of the characteristics of the Victorian Gentleman Scientist. At first he was mistrustful and treacherous, and almost seems to have been created as a villain in the new series, especially after he kidnapped companions Ian and Barbara. But what we sometimes forget is that this Doctor was on the run. He was a political refugee in hiding and he couldn’t afford to leave potential witnesses behind for the Time Lords to find. In fact, he’d been on the run so long, while also looking after his granddaughter Susan, his nerves must have been near breaking point. It’s only after his companions prove to be reliable friends and allies that his attitudes began to soften. Within his new extended family he began to enjoy exploring the Whoniverse much more.
Verdict: Heroic Adventurer. He exhibited a sense of place and dignity. When a policeman asked if he was British, the First Doctor replied, “I am a citizen of the Universe, and a gentleman to boot!”
By all appearances, the Second Doctor seemed clownish, but under the surface lurked a smart and far cannier character. After many adventures, the Time Lords condemned him to Earth for messing in other planets’ affairs. He had a strong sense of justice. If something was wrong then it was wrong and should be interfered with. He put up a persona of confusion and incompetence that was hard not to believe. His being prone to thinking out loud only added to this impression as he questioned his own options. Kind and caring, it’s difficult not to like this Doctor.
Verdict: Helpless Scientist/Social Idealist. An excellent trickster, tricking humans, Daleks, and other enemies into doing things his way.
The Third Doctor was exiled by the Time Lords, so he spent his time stuck on Earth. It’s worth noting here the influences of TV Production and budgets. The TARDIS was grounded by the BBC to save money on expensive alien sets and locations, so something was needed to replace the specialness of the TARDIS, which was Bessie and the Whomobile.
Verdict: Heroic Adventurer/Social Idealist. A kind of dashing gentleman adventurer with an air of superiority, a man of action, a kind of alien James Bond who had his own archnemesis in the form of the Master—the Third Doctor had a heart of gold and was very patient and nurturing of his female companions.
For many, the most recognizable Doctor, kitted out with iconic hat and scarf. After an initial story involving UNIT he turned his back on a job working for the authorities, preferring to wander through time and space always eager to look for trouble. The Whoniverse didn’t feel so parochial with the Fourth Doctor. His time included some of the best stories and adventures. Filled with a license to roam after being stuck on Earth, his watch included not only Sarah Jane Smith and Leela, but also the first appearance of the robot dog, K9. A first-class telepath, he was able to read the minds of others without contact.
Verdict: Heroic Adventurer/Social Idealist. He had a slightly mad persona as he confused potential enemies with his unconventional behavior, like taking a hostage and threatening him with a jelly baby (candy). Once this would-be captive agreed to his terms, the Doctor then casually ate the candy in front of him. The Doctor refused even to carry a weapon (hence the use of a jelly baby) much less use it. Moved to anger at unnecessary killing, he was even reluctant to wipe out the nascent Dalek race. Despite his unusual personality, he was a very logical Doctor.
The Ninth Doctor was a survivor of The Last Great Time War, an event that haunted him during much of this incarnation. This was the Doctor who met companions such as Rose Tyler and Jack Harkness, who seemed to help lift him out of the brooding darkness.
Verdict: Social Idealist. He was a Northerner (“Lots of planets have a north”) who dressed a little like a U-Boat Commander, and was something of a working class scientist, in the same way Superman is a friendly neighborhood superhero. One can imagine the Ninth Doctor throwing a Molotov cocktail at an oppressive regime or invader. He never seemed comfortable being a character that people looked to for guidance or leadership. Perhaps he had seen those qualities abused or misused too often?
David Tennant played the most charismatic of Doctors. The Tenth Doctor had a great appetite for life, and a strong sense of being the last of the Time Lords. An excellent scholar, he was able to rewrite his biology, storing his Time Lord characteristics in a watch, so he could turn human. His Alienese was highlighted by this, as was his consideration for the aliens hunting him. But when they killed innocent people, his vengeance was terrible and considered. He gave the aliens what they wished for, but in a way that gave meaning to the old expression “Be careful what you wish for!”
Verdict: Social Idealist. Very human in his relationships with his companions Rose, Martha, and Donna, he met his end after absorbing a vast amount of radiation when saving Donna’s granddad.
The Eleventh Doctor was a most charming Doctor, and one with a notable number of achievements. He is the Doctor’s most long-lived incarnation, the final incarnation of the first regeneration cycle, and one who had a centuries-long struggle against his enemies, including the last stand on Trenzalore.
Verdict: Heroic Adventurer/Social Idealist. Looking young enough to make you believe he should still be in school, the Eleventh Doctor certainly broke the crusty old stereotype of an aged academic. He exhibited a youthful exuberance and sense of wonder at the Universe around him. He sometimes seemed to rush headlong into situations that left him scrabbling around for a solution. But he always seemed to get that inspirational idea when things looked their bleakest.
The War Doctor, also known as the Renegade, was the warrior incarnation of the Doctor who lived a very different timeline compared to his other lives. As a fighter, rather than a peacemaker, he managed to bring an end to The Last Great Time War.
Verdict: Heroic Adventurer. A fighting and battling Doctor who, unlike his other incarnations, seemed to embrace the use of weapons as a means to an end. He was bred (so to speak) for war, but he is still the odd one out among the Doctor’s incarnations. He did what none of them could have done, wiping out the Daleks and the Time Lords in order to end a destructive war that was damaging all of space-time.
After battling in the Siege of Trenzalore for nine hundred years, the Doctor was facing extermination, but Clara appealed to the Time Lords, and the Doctor was gifted a new regenerative cycle. The Twelfth Doctor that emerged is a darker character, who often appeared fearsome and ruthless.
Verdict: Heroic Adventurer. The Twelfth Doctor behaved like someone enjoying a new lease on life, willing to try new things and appreciating all living things in a way he never did before. He treated the animals he spoke to as if they were his equal, sometimes seeming to prefer them to the humans he encountered. As well as his immediate companions, he had an extended group of allies known as the Paternoster Gang, made up of Madame Vastra, Jenny Flint, and Sontaran Strax. Sometimes prone to impatience and sarcasm and not gladly suffering fools, he could be brutally judgmental and unpredictable.