In 1855 Charles Todd arrived in the young colony of South Australia. He was 28 and his mind was full of the new sciences and technologies that were changing life in 19th century Europe. He had trained with the best at Greenwich in England and Australia; he was presented with a ‘blank canvas’ to implement his many ideas.

Until recently, he was best, and to many, only known for his work with the Overland Telegraph. Though this was a tremendous feat of management, its two years are but a short part of this man’s 50-year contribution to our national heritage.  However, lesser-known is the fact he worked with similar bright people in his colony and the others on the continent to establish the foundations of astronomy, meteorology, electrical engineering, timekeeping, surveying, telegraphy and an efficient postal system.

He was also influential in the establishment of many social and intellectual institutions of the Colony including two of South Australia’s universities, its Museum,  the  State  Library, the Art  Gallery and two churches. His work extended to a national level and it influenced some key issues at Federation. In many ways, Todd could stand with us as one of our contemporaries   –   he was deeply involved in building and running the infrastructure of a science and technology-obsessed society like ours. He would also be a familiar figure to the legion of MBA’s dotted throughout our enterprises.

Todd’s story is replete with examples of his capacity to think strategically while dealing with the tactical issues of running bureaucracies, networking managing resources and providing the leadership required achieving visionary outcomes for Australia.  Any senior civil servant who survived the administrations of 22 Premiers and completed 50 years of public service with his envious reputation fully intact could run a Masters course or two in a modern business school.

What makes Todd endearing to his researchers and biographers is his affability.  Though it’s tempting to dismiss reports of his employees’ admiration for their leader, attributing this to the rose coloured hue of fond memories,  it is impossible to ignore the many flattering reports found in news articles of his day. There is no doubt that the Adelaide Newspaper of record,   the   South Australian   Register,   was enthralled with the man in his later years with many favourable reports of his activities.  By the time of his death in late January 1910, he was a national treasure.  But even at that final point, the measure of the man was his request that his funeral cortege was not to proceed down King William Street as was the tradition since this would disturb the rhythm of the city.  Instead, mourners proceeded directly to North Road Cemetery with minimal disturbance to the daily endeavours of his fellow citizens.