The Doctor shows Lynda the world, literally, on what looks like a very similar observation deck. The whole planet is ugly and mottled, with a few patches of light on the surface. "It's always been like that," Lynda says. "Ever since I was born." She points out "The Great Atlantic Smog Storm," which has been going on for twenty years and the safety and breathing index on which the news determines for everyone. The Doctor: "So, the population just sits there? Half the world's too fat, half the world's too thin, and you lot just watch telly?" Stop yelling at me, Davies. "Ten thousand channels, all beaming down from here," Lynda says, and the Doctor goes on a wobbly that the human race is sheep and whatever, and then interrupts himself to ask whether they've still got "that program where three people have to live with a bear," and they agree that they love the show (Bear With Me), especially the celebrity edition where the bear got in the bath. The cruel mistress that is adult ADHD swings him right back around on how history's gone wrong, "again," and that the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire is still neither "Great" nor "Bountiful." "Last time I was here, I put it right," he says, and Lynda corrects him: "No, but that's when it first went wrong. A hundred years ago, like you said. All the news channels, they just shut down overnight.... There was nothing left in their place. No information. The whole planet just froze. The government, the economy, they collapsed. That was the start of it. One hundred years of hell." Ouch. The Doctor swallows his watchmaking diploma with a mighty effort, looking down on this ruined place: "I made this world."
Anybody ever toppled anything ugly, he or she had to have a pretty high self-opinion. You don't play Jesus to the moneychangers, or Satan to a lovely couple like Adam and Eve, without a pretty good feeling that you've got the stuff to back it up. So I guess that answers that: The Doctor's not a god after all, because gods don't fuck up like this. They do it, but not in this way. This is hubris. The first commandment of any god usually goes, "Don't go thinking you know what I'm up to," and then you get smacked after you inevitably forget that one, and start telling people what to do, or bringing down information economies all willy-nilly. This is the furnace.
Agorax, the other link other than Rose and Rodrick, screams and goes down. "Let's play...The Weakest Link," Anne says, in that way she's got, and Rodrick says with a tiny bit of sorrow, without looking: "Right, that's the end of tactical voting...you're on your own now." Things we didn't see, while the Doctor was realizing what a dickwad he might be, and Jack was running around all horribly clothed: Rose selecting one link after another for destruction, and watching them die. One after another. To save herself.