Doctor Who landed back on sublunary screens last night. His pet gizmo is a “sonic screwdriver”. This is a state-of-the-art Merlin’s wand. It unlocks the high-tech traps that encompass Doctor Who about the Tardis. His is the sort of magical multitasking tool that all do-it-yourself girls and boys dream of finding in their Christmas stockings.

Meanwhile in Japan the World Expo of technology is drawing crowds of millions. Its cutting-edge inventions include humanoid robots that can play musical instruments smoothly enough to perform hip-hop in a brass ensemble, and a mobile phone that recognises whatever it is pointed at. Meanwhile in Florida thousands of computer-gaming geeks have gathered for their “code camp”. This is their annual trade fair, at which they show off their inventions to the mobile phone magnates. Lucky geeks get their big break and make their fortunes. Their inventions are marketed to millions who had never realised that these new gadgets were what they most needed.

Man is a gadget-loving animal. The popularity of the James Bond films lies in Q’s triphibious motor cars as much as in the perils and brand-name snobbery of Bond. But man is also a gadget-crashing animal. The camera that creates an instant cartoon of the user answers questions that man had not yet asked. But without the right passwords it too will crash. It works better when you plug it in. It needs rebooting. For man still needs his older inventions. Without Adam, how could the discriminating camera tell that it was being pointed at a daffodil? Without a “book” of oxymoronic “simple basic” instructions, how could gadget-makers explain their mysteries to us?