Today is Alan Turing’s birthday, and I’m sharing something special to honor him. Turing was a mathematician, a codebreaker, and a pioneer of computer science. His ideas changed the world, but the world struggled to accept him.
The Cost of Thinking is my tribute to both his mind and his humanity. In the final scene, Joan asks: “Can we? Can we think beyond fear, beyond prejudice?” That’s the question this play leaves with you.
The Cost of Thinking: A Play Inspired by the Life of Alan Turing
Characters:
Alan Turing: British mathematician and cryptanalyst
Christopher Morcom: Turing’s close friend in school
Joan Clarke: Fellow cryptanalyst and close friend
Scene 1
Setting: A quiet school hallway. 1920s.
(Alan sits in a corner, sketching in his notebook. Christopher enters.)
CHRISTOPHER: You’re always hiding in here.
YOUNG ALAN: (without looking up) I’m not hiding. I’m thinking.
CHRISTOPHER: (sitting beside him) Thinking about what?
YOUNG ALAN: Patterns. How everything in nature follows one. The turning of seasons, the drift of stars, bees building perfect hexagons. Everything except for people. They act without logic.
CHRISTOPHER: (laughs) That’s because people have feelings, Alan. Feelings don’t make sense. That’s kind of the point. People are unpredictable. Messy. Infuriating sometimes. But also impossible not to care about.
YOUNG ALAN: That’s what makes them exhausting.
(A pause. Alan draws a circle, then a box. Still not looking up.)
YOUNG ALAN: Sometimes I wonder... what if I could build something that thinks properly? A machine that thinks faster than humans, and sees the truth in all the noise. It wouldn’t have fear or bias. Its thinking would follow a pattern, not feelings.
CHRISTOPHER: A machine that thinks?
YOUNG ALAN: (quietly) If I had something like that, maybe I wouldn’t feel so wrong all the time.
(Christopher studies him for a moment, then leans a little closer.)
CHRISTOPHER: You’re not wrong, Alan. You’re just different.
YOUNG ALAN: (a whisper) But what if no one else ever sees it like I do?
(They look at each other. A quiet moment, something unspoken between them.)
CHRISTOPHER: (softly, with a smile) Then build it. Build your machine. If anyone can, it’s you.
(Alan holds his gaze. Then silently, he flips to a new page and begins sketching again. Christopher watches him.)
Scene 2
Setting: Bletchley Park, 1940.
ALAN: (writing a letter) “Prime Minister Churchill, I respectfully urge you to grant me full control over the cryptographic team at Bletchley Park…”
(He stops, rewrites.)
ALAN: “The machine I propose is not fantasy. It is a logical, mechanized brain. Please give me the chance, and I will win this war.”
ALAN: “Enigma isn’t a puzzle. It is a language, changing every 24 hours, faster than any man can follow. The enemy doesn’t sleep. They don’t hesitate. No man can outthink that. But a machine can. My machine can."
ALAN: "Men die every day because we are too slow. We intercept messages we cannot read. But we could read every single one of them if I had the resources. If I had the authority."
(A pause. He puts down the pen, stares ahead for a moment. Then picks it up again.)
ALAN: "I do not make this request lightly. I am not seeking fame. I am seeking function. Victory. Logic. This machine is not imagination. It is inevitable."
(He folds the letter. Joan enters.)
JOAN: You’re impossible.
ALAN: And you’re late. The machine’s design can’t build itself.
JOAN: (grinning) You’re lucky to have a fiancée who thinks faster than you.
(Alan avoids eye contact.)
ALAN: You’re too kind. Too kind.
JOAN: Then stop pushing me away.
ALAN: It’s not fair. Not to you.
JOAN: That decision wasn’t yours to make for me. You proposed, Alan. I said yes.
ALAN: (emotionally conflicted) Because it was what I was supposed to do. Not because—
(he stops himself)
I’m sorry. I need to get back to work.
Scene 3
Setting: Bletchley Park. A late night. The machine is whirring loudly in the background.
JOAN: (nervously flipping through papers) There’s no time left. If we don’t break this—
(Alan sits still, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.)
ALAN: Stop.
JOAN: What?
ALAN: (slowly looks up, then suddenly stands) That word “Heil.” It shows up in every message.
JOAN: (voice rising) The predictable phrases. That’s it. That’s the pattern!
(They rush to the machine and adjust the knobs. Then they freeze, waiting.)
ALAN: Come on... come on...
(The machine ticks, then gradually slows and stops. Silence.)
(They stand frozen, breathless.)
JOAN: (softly, in disbelief) Is that... is that it? Did we just break the Enigma?
(Alan exhales shakily. A long pause and then Joan throws her arms around him. They embrace, laughing and crying.)
JOAN: You did it. You actually did it!
ALAN: We did it.
(They pull apart slightly, looking at each other, grateful and overwhelmed.)
JOAN: We have to tell Command. Right now. We can stop a bombing tonight!
(Joan reaches for the telephone.)
ALAN: (his smile fades as realization hits) Wait.
(He stops her hand.)
ALAN: We can’t.
JOAN: What are you saying, Alan? This is huge! We could stop a bombing tonight!
ALAN: (carefully) But think, what happens if we act too soon? If suddenly, we know everything the Germans are doing?
JOAN: (drops the phone) They’ll know we cracked the Enigma. They’ll change the whole system.
ALAN: (nodding slowly) And everything we’ve done, all this, will be worthless.
(Joan stares at him.)
JOAN: So now we choose who lives and who dies.
(Alan sinks into a chair, burying his face in his hands.)
ALAN: This isn’t just codebreaking anymore. This is mathematics and statistics with blood on our hands.
Scene 4
Setting: A courtroom, post-war Britain. Alan stands before a judge. Joan sits in the gallery.
JUDGE: Alan Turing, you are charged with gross indecency under Section 11 of the Criminal Law Amendment Act 1885.
ALAN: (quietly) I helped save this country, and now it condemns me.
JOAN: (firmly but emotional) I would have married you. I would have lied. I would have done anything to protect you.
ALAN: You shouldn't have had to.
JOAN: But I wanted to. I never needed you to change. I respected you for who you were, even when the world didn’t.
ALAN: (a small smile) Then you saw more of me than this country ever did.
JOAN: You deserved so much better.
(Alan turns. Their eyes meet. He wants to speak, but doesn’t. He’s led away. Joan remains still, eyes fixed on him until he disappears through the doors.)
Scene 5
Setting: Joan is older, speaking directly to the audience.
(Behind her, a large projection screen shows black-and-white footage of wartime Britain, then images of early computers.)
JOAN:
He saved millions and shortened a horrible war by years.
His thinking brought us here, to where we are today.
But he was never a hero in life. Not to them. To them, he was unnatural.
(Joan holds up the 2013 pardon.)
They apologized decades too late.
He once asked, “Can machines think?”
But the question we should’ve asked was: Can we?
Can we think beyond fear, beyond prejudice?
(The projection transitions to modern footage: Servers, satellite maps, people with laptops, smartphones, AI. Everything that stemmed from Alan’s machine.)
He built a machine that thinks for the world.
And the world rejected the man who made it.
He showed us that machines could think, but we couldn’t see that his thinking, different as it was, was a gift, not a crime.
(The projection fades. A single spotlight focuses on Alan’s machine. It ticks softly.)
Minds like his only come once in an age. And we lost him too soon.
(Joan steps back into the darkness.)
(From the opposite side, a teenage boy with a school uniform enters. It’s Christopher. He walks across the stage toward the machine. Looks at it with wonder.)
CHRISTOPHER: You finished it, Alan.
CHRISTOPHER: (Turns to face the audience) They’ll understand. One day.
(The ticking stops)
(Blackout)
END
