Reading Notes: Midnight's Machines by Arun Mohan Sukumar
I pre-ordered Midnight's Machines before release after seeing general buzz and a post by Shashi Tharoor online. Since I work in the technology domain, I expected a book centered on India's technological history. What I got instead was something different: a political history of technology in India, where technological developments are often interpreted through state-citizen dynamics and political choices.
That shift in expectation was initially jarring. At many points, the book felt less like a technological history and more like the author's continuous interpretation of how governments and citizens related to technology. Still, to be fair, the book has strong merits. It is rich in references, anchored in archival material, and consistently cites relevant scholarship. It also does a good job connecting pre-independence ideas and ideological currents to post-independence technological choices.
So my overall reaction is mixed but clear: this is a well-researched book with valuable material, but it is also overburdened by frequent authorial conclusions that could have been more selective and better separated from the evidence.
One early surprise for me was the discussion around Madan Mohan Malaviya's views on religion, science, and technology. I had mostly known him in the freedom movement context, so seeing him framed in relation to technological thought was genuinely interesting. The book is at its best in such moments--when it opens intellectual crossovers that are not commonly discussed.
I also found the treatment of Jawaharlal Nehru's position on technology thought-provoking. The framing that citizens should be capable enough to handle introduced technologies, and that societies should avoid blind awe of machines, remains relevant even now. The argument that people should understand scientific principles rather than merely use machines is a strong philosophical thread. Whether one agrees with all practical implications or not, these sections add depth and avoid simplistic "pro-technology vs anti-technology" binaries.
A chapter that stayed with me was the one dealing with India's constraints during and after Independence, especially the period when poor economic conditions made it difficult to import advanced technologies. In that context, the Colombo Plan (with support from countries like Britain, Canada, New Zealand, and the United States) is presented as a practical enabler rather than just diplomatic background noise.
Some examples mentioned are quite concrete and useful: modernization support for transport systems in Bombay, supply of rail and road tankers for milk movement, support connected to milk processing expansion that benefited players like Amul, transition from manual to automatic telephone exchanges, technical training linked to steel plants and dam projects, and institutional support that touched major educational and scientific centers. Briefly, even high-impact infrastructure support such as the CIRUS-related assistance appears in this arc. For me, this was one of the strongest parts of the book because it showed that national technological capacity was often built through a combination of domestic intent and external support under constraint, not through isolated heroic invention narratives.
The book also traces milestones like TIFRAC's commissioning in the early 1960s, early enterprise computer adoption, the social backlash around "job-eating computers," and post-1962 realization that India lagged in advanced electronics such as radar and communications. These threads help explain why electronics manufacturing and state attention to strategic technology became more serious in subsequent years.
There are other compelling thematic links too, including the author's discussion of how counterculture impulses in 1970s California contributed to personal computing and decentralization ideas. Even when one may debate how directly these influences map onto India, the comparative framing is intellectually engaging.
Where I struggled with the book is not lack of information; it is the density and persistence of conclusions. The author's opinions appear almost continuously, which sometimes makes the reading experience heavy. In my view, several interpretive conclusions could have been moved to chapter-end synthesis instead of being interleaved so frequently with factual narration. That editorial choice alone would have made the book more readable and let evidence breathe.
The solar cooker case (National Physical Laboratory) is a good example. I agree it is an important case study in the gap between design intent and social adoption, and in the commercialization limits of public institutions. But it felt overused across the book to support broader conclusions about technological failure. A valuable example can lose analytical sharpness when repeatedly stretched into multiple arguments.
A second concern is methodological stretch in some places. The book cites limited-base studies (including affluent urban youth samples, as discussed around pages 96-97) and then draws wider claims on state awareness or societal technological orientation. That move felt too broad relative to the evidentiary base. This is not to say the concern is invalid, but the jump from narrow evidence to general conclusion is sometimes larger than warranted.
I also found some arguments around workforce distribution and sectoral capability open to alternate interpretation. For example, if private sector consumer electronics had high market share in a given period while only a small share of electronics engineers worked there, one plausible explanation is role composition: large-scale manufacturing and distribution do not uniformly require high-end engineering talent at every layer, while public institutions at the time may have concentrated more R&D-intensive functions. Over time, as private sector quality depth rose, engineering concentration naturally shifted. In other words, the observed pattern may not automatically imply the intended political conclusion.
Author mentions how NICNET project was a technological advance and a successful project in the late nineties, but it remained largely within government reach and did not benefit citizens directly. The book also covers the Y2K problem and how Indian companies rose to the occasion in helping Western companies fix their code; according to the author, this phase contributed to mass adoption of computers and the internet among citizens. It then connects this momentum to the broader IT-services rise, where Indian companies built strong capability and the state later leveraged this ecosystem for citizen-scale digital platforms. I found this arc important, but I still prefer a softer interpretation: rather than viewing earlier periods mainly as governments intentionally keeping citizens away from technology, it is more convincing to see multiple constraints at play--capacity, institutions, economics, infrastructure, education, and timing.
Despite my criticisms, these are the lines and ideas I liked and found interesting in the book:
- "History of international affairs is in many ways the history of technology" (S. Jaishankar)
- "Telephone invented in 1890 took 67 years to reach 75% of the American population, whereas TV just took 7 years"
- Amartya Sen's 1962 case for "landesque" technologies (increase productivity without replacing labor, e.g., fertilizers) and "laborseque" technologies (replace labor without much increase in productivity, e.g., tractors)
- Narayana Murthy's statement at an IISc convocation that the country has not produced a single technological invention that could be considered transformative
If I summarize my experience in one line: Midnight's Machines is valuable for its research trail, references, and historical connective tissue, but less convincing when it over-asserts conclusions about state intent and citizen-technological distance from limited or uneven evidence.
I am still glad I read it. It gave me new historical entry points, new references to follow, and a better appreciation of how messy technological progress actually is in a country-scale setting.