is that curiosity or arrogance?

This quote, while harsh, is a fair description of the Topher Brink first introduced within the series.

 

From the beginning, we’re shown someone who appears as the quintessential amoral scientist. A genius who looks at the world as if it were all one big game, and who places satisfying his own curiosity over concerns of empathy and compassion. Even within the morally ambiguous Dollhouse, Topher’s enjoyment of his world and blithe disregard for the Actives are notable, particularly in comparison to characters such as Boyd and Saunders. Topher rarely seems to question the nature of the Dollhouse as they do, nor is he shown justifying it as we see from Adelle.  It’s easy to assume he just doesn’t care. 

 

This impression is not helped by the regard he holds for his own intelligence. He’s used to being the smartest person in any given room and is more than happy to remind others of this fact. Frequently. That arrogance (no matter how justified) leads to a sense of invincibility when it comes to his work.  Because he has complete faith in his programming abilities, he feels others should afford him the same. This makes him quick to get defensive when questioned and equally fast to deny responsibility if something goes wrong with an imprint or engagement. 

 

If the above sounds childish, well. It’s par for the course. Although Topher is in his late twenties when the series begins it would be easy to mistake him for someone far younger. This is evident in nearly all the aspects of how he presents himself, from his manner of speech and choice of snacks, all the way to his office decor choices including a trampoline and whack-a-mole machine. He also has a number of idiosyncrasies and phobias, such as fear of rats and the dark, and has trouble adjusting to anything outside of his (not particularly large) comfort zone. 

 

Despite his extensive knowledge of the human brain, Topher is lacking interpersonal skills.  He has difficulty empathizing with others and tends towards self-absorption, which colors even his more positive qualities. While he can come off as lighthearted and witty, with a propensity towards nerdy references and jargon, he’s just as often petulant and condescending. He fails to treat situations with the seriousness they warrant and doesn’t hesitate to dismiss or mock points which don’t align with his perspective. Due to these traits, and likely helped along by his role as lord god of the Dollhouse itself, Topher is a deeply lonely individual. His relationships outside the Dollhouse are nonexistent and even his closest connections within are limited. This is because he only occasionally remembers to treat people as, well, people. This is especially true of the dolls themselves, who are looked at more as science experiments (or yes, toys) than human beings in their own right. 

 

These flaws, while significant, don’t make him cruel. At least, not intentionally so. Topher largely treats the Actives with patronizing kindness and is shown worrying about their physical safety. Just because he doesn’t consider them equals doesn’t mean he wants anyone to get hurt or would take advantage of his position over them. When ‘allowed’ an Active to design and spend time with he chooses to create a friend. Someone equally geeky and utterly platonic to play video games and laser tag with. This display, while comparatively innocent, serves to highlight that loneliness and desire for connection otherwise not fulfilled. 

 

Topher’s immaturity also plays a large part in the aforementioned amorality. Despite how he may appear on the surface—and how other characters perceive him—Topher is far from a sociopath. His moral development and ethics, while stunted and atypical, are not absent. Just immature and self-interested.  He’s shown to take pride in both the scientific achievements of his work, of course, but also how that work can genuinely help others, such as setting up an engagement to assist a traumatized young girl. For the early part of the show, he sees no reason to question his position within the Dollhouse. It’s cutting edge science performed on willing volunteers. Where’s the harm in that? The fact that conventional laws and standards may not agree does nothing dissuade him, he holds little respect for those standards (along with most other authority) and believes that progress often provokes a reactionary response. 

 

Topher’s worst traits don’t stem from a deliberate intent to cause harm or manipulate others. Instead, they’re driven from a disastrous combination of arrogance, curiosity, and a near blindness to consequences. Despite his intelligence, he’s deeply impulsive, quick to think and act without consideration for where the path may lead. The best (and worst) example of this occurs late in season two where, after discovering Rossum was working on a device with the capability to imprint over anyone, he goes ahead and creates the blueprint for a technology which will eventually nearly end the world. 

 

Why? 

 

Because he couldn’t not. Learning that the concept for such technology existed was a puzzle way too fascinating to ignore. Despite not agreeing with the idea. Despite being genuinely horrified by the concept and considering it the most dangerous tech he’d ever encountered, he still chose to find a way to make it work. While one of the more tragic examples, it’s hardly the only one. Topher consistently fails to notice any potential negative outcome of his actions until they’re already come to pass. He’s simply too willing to ignore the warning signs when presented with an interesting question or the right form of encouragement. 

 

In contrast to the cockiness Topher outwardly shows—and the genuine confidence he holds in his own intellect—it is indicated he’s aware of these failings.  The clearest reference to this occurs after Claire Saunders realizes she’s an imprint and confronts him about his role as her creator. Prior to this scene, they’d spent much of the first season butting heads over the well being of the Actives. Here it is revealed she was designed that way on purpose. That Topher chose to have her fight for her beliefs, to fight against him if necessary, in order to prevent people from getting hurt.  He also explicitly states she’s ‘better than him’.  This shows a cognizance of his own weaknesses, but also reflects how much of that blindness is self-inflicted.  He doesn’t want to consider the ramifications, moral or otherwise, of his actions so he chooses not to. Instead, when given the opportunity, he outsources the job and designs someone to pick up that slack.  

 

With his current canon point, Topher no longer has the luxury of ignoring those consequences. The events of season two—from experiencing his first true moral crisis to the knowledge of what his tech could lead to—have poked more than a few holes in his previously comfy world view. This has come with both positive and negative changes. The characteristics above all still apply but some have been tempered. For example, it’s during this time he’s formed deeper relationships with those around him, including the Actives, and shown a greater ability to see them as real people. Even if it doesn’t always seem that way. 

 

On the other hand, the complete and total upheaval of his life hasn’t had the best effect on his mental stability. His sanity is intact, for the moment, but coming face to face with the damage that his intelligence, a trait so much of his life has been built on, can cause has resulted in no shortage of guilt and self-loathing. Combined with the reveal of Boyd’s betrayal and the death of Bennett, someone he thinks he could have loved, and he’s arriving with a host of new trauma and trust issues. 

 

Overall, Topher has spent years being both isolated and protected by his own brilliance and the position it’s secured for him. The Dollhouse was, until recently, a bubble where he could remain a child playing with toys and invention without worrying about anything else. And now? He has to face the real world. 

 

Or, as real as it gets when your next stop is a literal dream.