Thursday, May 16, 2024

Blue Box [Doctor Who, Diversion 35]

 Blue Box by Kate Orman
3 March 2003

I can't remember a world without computers. By the time I was born in 1994, the World Wide Web had already existed for four years, and by the time that I was old enough to operate our old HP machine (the first personal computer in our household, running Windows 98 at the time), more than half of the world's two-way telecommunications were happening online. The number today is well over 97%.

I got my start exploring Google Images (and later Wikipedia, once that was a thing) and spent many of my formative years on web forums for my various interests. I was a precocious lass who learned to read quite early, so by the time that I had my first typing class in fifth grade (around 2005), I had long since mastered the QWERTY keyboard and was desperately bored because I had little use for the lessons.

My dear dad does remember the time before widespread home computing, of course, and was just about the right age to jump on the bandwagon, turning 14 around the time this book is set. So I sent him a text to ask him what the transition was like, and get his own perspective on the subject and events of Blue Box.

His first computer was a Tandy TRS-80 Model III, a machine with only 4Ks of RAM without buying additional expansions. This was more than enough for regular use in the early 80s, and dad made frequent use of it indeed, teaching himself BASIC and Hex to go "data mining" in the various programs his family bought. (Presumably on cassette, as he was only able to install a floppy drive a few years later after saving up extra for it.)

Around 1985, the old TRS-80 was donated away when dad went off to college, and was replaced with the formidable Commodore 64. This was the machine he used to connect with the early Internet for the first time, with the help of a dial-up service called Quantum Link (or Q-Link) which he remembered being rather pricey. Supposedly grandpa once gave him a talking-to for racking up the phone bill using this rig. For shame...

Interestingly enough (but not surprisingly perhaps, as I've previously related his history with the fandom), it seems that one of his formative online experiences in this period involved posting in bulletin board groups about Doctor Who. He says he contributed to an online episode guide for American fans, specifically rounding out the last missing episodes on the list with some information on the Sylvester McCoy Doctor. I couldn't find any trace of it today (albeit with only a cursory look), but I'm reliably told it had some godawful dot matrix art of a Dalek on the front page.

All things considered, his experiences were mostly only different from mine in the particulars of the technology. I guess the more things change, the more they really do stay the same. Having heard all about it from someone who was there, I'm assured of the authenticity of the computing landscape illustrated by Blue Box, and I'm inclined to think that Kate Orman had first-hand experience with these machines and networks herself.

Blue Box vaguely resembles Who Killed Kennedy in its narration style, told as an in-universe book published by Australian journalist Charles "Chick" Peters. This time, the narrator is firmly embroiled in the Doctor's adventure, so this is far more Doctor-centric than the aforementioned novel. The chapter titles, given as numbers in various types of computer syntax, help to set the tone.

Cyber crime is a major subject in Blue Box, which depicts a time when ordinary people and law enforcement alike were still somewhat innocent to the idea of cybersecurity risks. The first computer fraud actually happened all the way back in 1970, but it was only the emergence of the early Internet which allowed hacking and cyber fraud to really blossom, a time period which is portrayed in this book.

The harbinger here of this all-digital future is chief antagonist Sarah Swan, a ruthless, "fuck you, got mine", Reagan-era yuppie entrepreneur, who enjoys controlling the lives of others by means of their digital footprint. She finds her match in the Doctor, whose people probably see human technology like a child's toy. He still gets really into the hacker persona and seems to have a great deal of fun modifying his Apple II and playing cat-and-mouse with Swan.

It is a little funny seeing the Sixth Doctor in a Kate Orman book; she's most famous for writing for the Seventh and Eighth Doctors, who couldn't be more different from Six. She still captures Six's personality beautifully, while making him a little more likable than his Season 22 counterpart. I enjoyed him quoting a poem extolling the virtues of the domestic cat (‘For he can spraggle upon waggle at the word of command,’ non-explained the Doctor), and reading a collection of B. Kliban's cat comics.

The reactions of other characters to him amused me. For example: Chick Peters remarking, "I bet in school you were the kid who always ate the Playdough", or suggesting the Doctor might be an art thief (truer than he knows). He also gets a much-needed costume change, albeit in a medium where we can't see him: a black Bond suit with a neon technicolor cat-print necktie.

Peri also gets to wear jeans and a sweatshirt, bless her. There isn't much botany to be done in this book, but she still gets plenty to do and feels more well-rounded than she ever did on TV. She's in her native America for once, and seems at ease with navigating the pizza parlor and local hotels toward the start of the story, as well as galloping around with the Doctor and company later on when on the run from Swan and the law.

The book makes an able attempt at sketching out the relationship between Six and Peri. Their banter is a bit more good-natured than it was on TV, but we still learn that Peri is considering leaving the Doctor now that she's in a setting resembling her own time and space. In the end, she chooses not to. She explains their bond to Chick as one formed through a common traumatic situation (presumably The Caves of Androzani), which is interesting.

This whole thread is even more interesting in light of the book's primary alien antagonist (more of a MacGuffin), the Eridani creation the Doctor calls the "Idiot Savant". The Savant is biologically engineered to learn computer languages in the same way a child acquires natural languages, allowing it to rewrite and hack into any computer system, no matter how complex. This ultimately includes the "biological computer" of the human mind as well, which it seems to control via pheromones. It passively rewrites the minds of those who spend the most time around it in order to make them feel attached to it and interested in keeping it safe, even at the cost of their own lives.

Although the Doctor obviously isn't doing that same sort of thing to Peri, the book does still draw a bit of a parallel in suggesting their relationship to be somewhat toxic and codependent in nature, something which is definitely a lot more interesting than whatever we got on screen.

The theme of privacy and personal information is even extended to gender identity, as we learn, late in the book, about something that Chick has been hiding from the reader and the others: that he's intersex and a transgender man. This totally took me off-guard, even though it was hinted at earlier in the book in retrospect, since I didn't expect much in the way of gender diversity from a twenty year-old Doctor Who tie-in. As a trans person myself, I was absolutely delighted; Chick is a pretty cool character in general, is written sensitively, and is not stereotyped.

Curiously, Chick isn't the only character that's brought up in the context of gender identity; when the Doctor is exploring a MUD environment (that brought me way back), the narration remarks about his in-game avatar, "The Doctor didn’t bother with details like appearance or even gender," and Peri says something rather interesting after Chick comes out to her:

‘Oh... I guess I see. You know, it’s funny. I’m sort of surrounded. The Doctor also –’ she stopped short, colour jumping into her cheeks. ‘Uh, never mind.’


This seems to be drawing a comparison between transitioning one's gender and Time Lord regeneration, something which I'll definitely talk about more than once over the course of this marathon.

The emergence of the Internet, and the widespread prevalence of computing technology in general, are historically very recent phenomena, and it doesn't seem like they're going to stop evolving anytime soon. My lived experience of becoming acquainted with the World Wide Web is already a thing of the past. Now toddlers go about with iPads in hand, and may never make more than incidental use of PCs in their lives.

The average formative online experience is probably now something more like 6 hours a day of Frozen or Spider-Man asset flip videos, at least until kids are old enough to make use of social media mobile apps. After asking around, I learned that the schools in my area no longer offer typing classes like they did when I was a kid; children now learn to type even earlier than I did, albeit making use of non-tactile touch screen keyboards instead of the physical type.

Already the web forums and blogs of my younger years are considered somewhat obsolete (present company excluded, naturally), replaced by more centralized services controlled by corporate monopolies. Many old sites and online resources I made use of in my youth have already disappeared forever into the digital aether, and the Web is full of abandoned sites and accounts - ghosts in the machine.

2003 is just as distant now as 1982 was when this book was published. Hacker Bob Salmon's dialogue about an all-digital future where "people [talk] in sentences that they’ve actually thought about first" was funny in 2003, and is absolutely hilarious now. The capabilities of the Web have expanded, but so have its dangers. The first real cybersecurity laws came into force in the States in the later Eighties, but I was alarmed to discover in the course of my research that, even today, there are still some glaring holes in cyber crime legislation.

As technology has become more and more centralized and corporatized, the general population now seem to be actively discouraged from repairing their own devices or learning how the various applications we rely upon actually work. Companies like Apple have created our very own generation of "idiot savants" who can use all their apps and products with ease, but are generally forbidden from trying to pick them apart like my dad used to do.

This decline in computer literacy is especially concerning when you consider how cyber crime has grown more sophisticated in the last twenty years. I find myself worrying over the idea of the situation somehow getting even worse as more of the population gets online, while less and less of them know how to keep themselves safe while doing so.

Maybe I just despair over this because I'm growing older. Or because I work in the tech support field. Time will tell if I'm wrong; it always does.

Preview illustration of Blue Box by Roger Langridge, from DWM 330. (Retrieved from here)

We aren't departing from the virtual world just yet. Join me next time for an exciting adventure with Doctor Who and the Mines of Terror.

(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 16 May 2024.)

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