Bengaluru’s science economy began with a land decision
The Indian Institute of Science was not originally destined for Bengaluru. In 1898, when Jamsetji Nusserwanji Tata began developing a plan for India’s first institution dedicated to higher education and scientific research, Bombay appeared to be the leading choice. It had greater industrial activity, wealth and civic importance, and was Tata’s hometown. Bengaluru, by contrast, was a smaller city dealing with famine, public-health problems and the effects of the Anglo-Mysore wars.
Yet the institute came to Bengaluru in 1909. Its arrival was not the result of a single advantage or one influential decision. It followed a combination of land, public finance, administrative support, climate, access to power and the possibility of linking research with industrial development. More than a century later, that decision offers a useful way to understand how cities acquire economic identities: not simply through size or existing commercial strength, but through institutions that create new capabilities over time.
The history of IISc also shows that Bengaluru’s later association with science, technology and startups was not inevitable. It was built through a long institutional process that began before the city became a major industrial or technology centre.
When Tata’s proposal took shape in the 1890s, a 23-member Provisional Committee headed by educationist Burjorji Padshah consulted 76 people about where the institution should be located. A majority favoured Bombay. Other cities considered included Calcutta, Poona, Coonoor, Nainital, Allahabad, Bengaluru and Roorkee.
Bombay’s case was strong. It was an established centre of commerce and industry, with the civic and financial resources that a major research institution would require. But the city also presented practical constraints. As a crowded island, it offered limited land for a large campus. Its high humidity was considered unsuitable for books and scientific equipment.
Bengaluru’s case was less obvious but increasingly concrete. The city’s climate was seen as favourable, and its location offered access to existing and potential networks across southern India. More importantly, Mysore State was prepared to commit land and money. In early 1899, Tata met Seshadri Iyer, the Dewan of Mysore State, who supported the use of science and technology to improve people’s lives.
Mysore’s offer changed the institutional geography of the proposal. The state offered approximately 300 acres and promised to contribute to construction costs if the university was located in Bengaluru. Later, its commitment was formalised as 371 acres and 11 guntas of land, Rs 5 lakh towards capital expenditure and an annual contribution of Rs 50,000.
That commitment illustrates a basic condition of large urban institutions: ideas require physical and financial support to become durable. A research institute needs land for laboratories, residences and future expansion; it needs capital for construction and equipment; and it needs continuing public support after the initial announcement. Bengaluru’s advantage was therefore not only its climate or location. It was the willingness of a regional state to provide the resources needed to establish the institution.
The location was examined again by the British chemist Sir William Ramsay, who was later awarded the Nobel Prize in Chemistry. During a nearly three-month tour of India, Ramsay visited several cities and was strongly impressed by Bengaluru. His report highlighted the city’s accessibility from Bombay and Madras, its proximity to mineral deposits including iron ore and gold, and the possibility of electric power from Shivanasamudra Falls.
Ramsay also considered Bengaluru’s climate temperate for much of the year. He viewed its relative lack of distractions as an advantage compared with larger cities such as Bombay, Madras and Calcutta. These observations reveal how the early location debate combined urban qualities that are still relevant to research and industrial institutions: access, environmental conditions, resource networks, energy and the availability of land.
The decision was not uncontested. In 1901, a government-appointed committee headed by Colonel John Clibborn and David Orme Masson revisited the proposal and compared Bengaluru with Roorkee. The committee concluded that Roorkee would be preferable if it could secure the necessary land and financial support. That condition was decisive. Roorkee did not receive the patronage required to establish the proposed institute, while Mysore strengthened its commitment to Bengaluru.
The episode makes clear that institutional location is rarely determined by reputation alone. A city may have a stronger industrial base or a longer academic tradition, but another location can prevail if it offers land, funding and administrative alignment. In Bengaluru’s case, the city’s existing limitations did not prevent it from becoming the site of a national institution. The availability of support allowed the institute to become part of the city’s future rather than merely reflect its existing status.
The Government of India issued the vesting order establishing IISc in Bengaluru on May 27, 1909. The institute opened its doors in 1911 with 24 students and two academic departments: General and Applied Chemistry, and Electrical Technology.
Its early work was closely linked to industrial development. According to the supplied account, IISc says six factories were established in less than five years as a direct result of investigations carried out there. These included factories associated with acetone, thymol, straw boards, soap and sandalwood oil. The examples are significant because they show research operating as part of an industrial system rather than as an isolated academic activity.
The institute’s contribution to Bengaluru’s urban economy therefore extended beyond teaching and research. It created skills, supported applied industrial work and connected scientific knowledge to production. That relationship gave the city an institutional base from which later forms of engineering and technology could develop.
The institute’s role expanded during the Second World War, when it trained personnel, manufactured military and industrial goods and worked with Hindustan Aircraft Limited to repair and maintain British and American warplanes. New engineering departments, including Aeronautical Engineering, Metallurgy and Mechanical Engineering, emerged during the 1940s.
These developments added layers to Bengaluru’s economic capabilities. The city’s science identity was not created by a single technology company or a sudden startup boom. It was strengthened through successive institutional capacities: chemistry, electrical technology, aeronautics, metallurgy, mechanical engineering, computer science, automation and materials science.
Under director Satish Dhawan in the 1960s, 1970s and early 1980s, research expanded into computer science, automation, molecular biophysics and interdisciplinary studies. Former students and faculty included Homi J. Bhabha, Vikram Sarabhai, Anna Mani, Kamala Sohonie and C. N. R. Rao. The institute also contributed to the creation of other academic and scientific institutions and organisations.
This institutional continuity helps explain why Bengaluru eventually became associated with a broad technology ecosystem. A city’s economic specialisation is partly shaped by the institutions that train people, produce research, maintain professional networks and establish links with industry. IISc’s history, as presented in the supplied material, shows this process unfolding over several generations.
The physical scale of the institution also changed. IISc later expanded into brain research, nanoscience and engineering, hypersonics, industry links and startup incubation. Its campuses now include a 1,500-acre facility at Challakere in Chitradurga district. This expansion demonstrates that research infrastructure is not static. Once an institution develops a durable base, its land, departments, partnerships and research priorities can extend well beyond the original campus.
The policy lesson is not that every city can reproduce Bengaluru’s trajectory simply by building a research campus. The institute emerged from a specific arrangement involving Tata’s proposal, the Mysore Durbar’s land and financial commitments, Government of India approval, expert assessment and later institutional leadership. Its development also depended on the ability to connect research to industrial needs.
What the history does show is the importance of coordination among public authorities, private philanthropy and academic institutions. Tata initiated the vision. Mysore provided land and financial support. Government authorities completed the formal process. Researchers and directors shaped the institute’s academic direction. Industrial organisations became partners in applied work. Each element was necessary, and none alone explains the outcome.
The contrast between Bengaluru in the 1890s and Bengaluru today is therefore central to the story. The city was once considered alongside established centres such as Bombay, Calcutta and Poona, and was dealing with famine and a plague epidemic. It later became a centre for science, technology, research and startups. The transition was not automatic and did not occur only because of geography. It was mediated by a long-term investment in institutional infrastructure.
The evidence in the supplied account confirms the importance of IISc in Bengaluru’s scientific and industrial history, but it does not establish that the institute alone created the city’s technology economy. Bengaluru’s later development involved other institutions, companies, infrastructure systems and public decisions that are not detailed here. What can be established is that IISc provided an early and unusually durable foundation.
The larger urban question is how cities create capabilities that may not be visible when an institution is first established. In 1898, Bengaluru did not look like the obvious location for India’s premier scientific institution. The decision to locate IISc there helped create a new relationship between the city, scientific research and industry. Over time, that relationship became part of Bengaluru’s identity and economic structure.
The history also leaves a practical point for any discussion of urban development: institutional infrastructure has a long gestation period. The benefits of land allocation, public funding and research capacity may not appear immediately, but they can shape a city for decades. Bengaluru’s emergence as India’s science and technology hub was, in part, the delayed consequence of a decision made when the city was still an unlikely choice.
