When newly independent states in Africa set out to make their own economies in the 1960s, they did so under the label of “planning,” a generic term denoting economic policy-making to create the economic future. This planning was guided by international experts, sent “on missions” to help, or perhaps oversee, local economists in what was seen then as an expert, technocratic process. Nigeria offers an important example of this technocracy at work, under the guidance of its “missionary”: Wolfgang Stolper. His diary, and his writings of the day, reveal how local information and local values travelled around social, political and economic circles, to be then spliced together according to certain economic principles in making a “five-year plan” for the future of Nigeria.

Development planning was a form of interventionist social knowledge widely used in the mid-twentieth century. Planning was employed with different aims, and the adoption of concrete techniques and procedures was highly sensitive to each country’s institutional context. This article studies the life trajectory of Colombia’s Ten-year Plan, an internationally celebrated attempt to design economic development on a large scale in what actors characterized as a politically “democratic” and economically “liberal” setting. Based on the Colombian case, I argue that a central function of planning in developing countries was to build trust, on behalf of local stakeholders and international donors, in the state’s capacity to credibly use public resources and foreign aid to achieve its development aims. In turn, planning also allowed outsiders to invigilate the actions taken by states on the economy, and to make them accountable for their commitments. I examine the media of persuasion used in the build-up to, and the publicization and revision of the Ten-year Plan, to account for the shift from the macro scale of comprehensive plans to the smaller-scale development interventions observed in the 1960s. This case shows that the malleability of planning procedures was key for the enduring resilience of the planning system.

In 1980, Belgian Plan Commissioner Robert Maldague clandestinely circulated a document called The Impossible Scenario, thereby reshaping planning practices in Belgium amidst a widely perceived moment of crisis. Using archival records and oral histories, this article traces how reformers within the (now federal) Belgian Planning Bureau combined foresight scenarios and macroeconomic modeling in The Impossible Scenario. It explains the use of foresight scenarios through the Planning Bureau’s aim of restoring its capacity to intervene in Belgian policymaking. The article then highlights the broader political meaning of this epistemic transformation: the reconfiguration of planning infrastructures in Belgium—and, more broadly, in Europe—from instruments of democratic economic coordination to tools of market governance. Examining this previously underexplored Belgian case thereby reveals the neoliberalized and neoliberalizing character of Western planning infrastructures in the early 1980s.

This article examines how the American psychologist David McClelland advocated a quasi-colonial interventionist view to social science, shaped by his understanding of scientific progress, economic development, and social change. In the 1960s, he saw real-world experiments as a means both to test his theories and to generate knowledge efficiently and quickly—all with the ultimate aim of improving the human condition. While his primary focus was knowledge production rather than social transformation, his dual roles as professor and consultant carried an interventionist dimension, grounded in the belief that psychological measuring instruments could serve as tools for psychological training. By reconstructing this stance and the interstitial space McClelland created between academia and consultancy, I aim to show that his drive to intervene—exemplified by his company’s work in Curaçao—stemmed less from a pre-scientific conviction than from a distinctive mode of scientific practice.

This paper explores the potential offered by a cinematographic approach to the study of museums, particularly science centres. By setting up an intermedial lens that maps between the museum medium and film – particularly the visitor experiences in museums onto a specific genre of museum film – correspondences between these media and their respective ‘grammars’ are analysed. After a brief overview of the relationship between museums and film in the twentieth century, a language of documentary film suitable for museum film is introduced based on the film theory of Jon Boorstin, who also directed a film on the Exploratorium in San Fancisco, which adapted post-war insights in communication design as developed by the Eames Office. Reviewing five documentaries about the Exploratorium shows that only Boorstin’s museum film could adequately convey the museum experience to others, thus going beyond intermediality to enable a transmedial transfer. How this film emerged through the cooperation of the Exploratorium with the Eames Office and national funding agencies is presented in some detail in order to show that the intermedial lens can work both ways, allowing for the transmedial application of film analysis to the museums themselves.

This paper explores the complex role penicillin played in the relations between Britain, the USA and the USSR between the Second World War and the beginning of the Cold War through the lens of science diplomacy and the category of negotiation. In the post-war years the Soviets tried to acquire know-how on large-scale penicillin production from Britain and the USA. While the USA refused to collaborate, the British strategy was more complex. The British government allowed the Oxford team, which had discovered the antibacterial properties of penicillin, to disclose all the technology and know-how concerning large-scale penicillin production of which they were aware to the Soviets, while simultaneously trying to slow down penicillin research and production in the Soviet Union by controlling the export of certain industrial machinery, Podbielniak extractors, to Eastern Europe. By contrast, the USA put a stop to scientific and technological collaboration with the Soviets, but were less strict about the export of industrial machinery. The different strategies generated tensions between Britain and the USA, and ultimately mirrored both the British fear of an American disengagement from Europe and the American will to protect the interests of their national industry.