In Electrified Democracy: The Internet and the United Kingdom Parliament in History, Andrew Blick builds upon his significant experience working in the UK Parliament and at 10 Downing Street to tell “the story of how the UK Parliament came to use the Internet from the 1960s onwards” (ii), arguing that such a story has never been told.

Indeed, to date research in this area has for the most party focused on the use of the internet by MPs or parties and on the impact of the internet on democracy. Studies of online parliamentary initiatives such as its website or e-petition platform have been carried out, but the field has lacked a comprehensive overview of the relationship between the internet and Parliament from a historical perspective, which Blick successfully addresses in his book.

Blick's goal is to complement Jon Agar's work on the executive branch, widen the timeframe adopted by a 2007 report from the Hansard Society on the subject, and build on a 1999 article by Stephen Coleman to “consider how far common patterns can be identified in parliamentary responses to different technologies that have appeared over time” (23) such as print, radio, or cable television. His exploration of the two-way dynamic between the internet and the UK Parliament within a complex network of interactions spanning decades is thus welcome, all the more so as Blick's work incorporates extensive, wide-ranging research combining material from Parliament (including Hansard records of debates and questions in both houses and reports from committees) with a multitude of material from primary and secondary sources such as websites, pamphlets, diaries, works of fiction. Indeed, such is the breadth of sources that a bibliography would have been a useful addition.

Overall, Blick provides a wealth of information and generally convincing analyses, but the organization of the book, with its mixture of chronological and topical developments, leaves the reader somewhat puzzled. The table of contents starts with an introduction followed by a chapter titled “The Internet Debate since 1990,” then moves to the 1990–2020 period, back to the pre-1945 era, then to 1945–1990, and so on. Chapters work very well as stand-alone articles on the issues, but the back-and-forth chronology makes it at times challenging to follow the progression of Blick's arguments. For example, there is a lengthy aside on e-petitions in the conclusion to the first chapter, yet is no mention of them before. A discussion of the history of printing appears in the introduction, whereas it would seem to belong in chapter 3, with its focus on technology and transformation before 1945.

However, such considerations do not overshadow Blick's very convincing argument in favor of the historical contextualization of studies pertaining to the reciprocal relationship between technology and political institutions, or the necessary reminder that neither Parliament nor the internet are “monolithic” (25), immutable entities. Blick stays away from caricature visions of Parliament as “archaic,” “detached from the public,” and “inherently resistant to the incorporation of changes and innovations” (113). He also avoids deterministic approaches to the internet, which he presents as a polymorphous, potentially ambivalent component in a long chain of inventions in constant evolution that have triggered a common cyclical pattern of hope, disappointment, and “redemption” (36). The parallels he draws between the impact of the internet and printing, for instance, are particularly compelling.

In addition to explaining the various ways Parliament has used the internet for information retrieval, facilitating internal communication, or encouraging participation, Blick also emphasizes how technology has become an instrument for redressing an alleged collapse in the legitimacy of the institution via a renewed connection with the public and improved mechanisms for holding the executive function to account.

One of the Electrified Democracy's major strengths is Blick's analysis of “the way in which technology is perceived, and put into practice, and the connection between the two themes” (2). Though this argument might have benefited from a clearer distinction between fictional works, such as Mary Shelley's Frankenstein (1818) or George Orwell's 1984 (1949), and scientific treatises, such as Francis Bacon's Novum Organum (1620), or writings by Adam Smith, Karl Marx, or Mikhail Bakunin, Blick powerfully underscores the interweaving of theories, stories, and myths with reality and technology. Following notions introduced by Robert Owen from the early nineteenth century to the American counterculture and back to the UK activists of Undercurrents in the 1970s makes for a fascinating journey, while the reference to John Milton's 1644 Areopagitica in a 1984 report by the parliamentary committee on financing the BBC (21) supports Blick's vision of causality as a meandering path rather than a straight link, substituting complex networks of influence for direct repercussions and giving significance to the “technological paths not taken” (32) and experimental ventures.

Blick aims his book at policy makers and researchers, but it is relevant to a variety of disciplines including history, politics, and media studies.