Stephen Hawking by John Gribbin Page A

Cambridge, and a small group of physicists and mathematicians from the college itself. Sciama took Carter, Ellis, Rees, and Hawking to the meetings with the idea that the discussions might spark applications to their own work. However, there were times when Hawking almost failed to make it to London.
    Brandon Carter remembers one particular occasion when the group arrived late at the railway station and the train was already drawing in. They all ran for it, forgetting about Stephen, who was struggling along with his sticks. It was only after they had installed themselves in the carriage that they were aware he was not with them. Carter recalls looking out of the window, seeing a pathetic figure struggling toward them along the platform, and realizing that Stephen might not make it before the train pulled away. Knowing how Hawking was fiercely against being treated differently from others, they did not like to help him too much. However, on this occasion Carter and one of the others jumped out to help him along the platform and onto the train.
    It would have been an odd twist of fate indeed if Hawking had not made it to at least one of those London meetings, because it was through them that his whole career took another positive turn. Over the course of the talks at King’s, Roger Penrose had introduced his colleagues to the idea of a spacetime singularity at the center of a black hole, and naturally the group from Cambridge was tremendously excited by this.
    One night, on the way back to Cambridge, they were all seated together in a second-class compartment and had begun to discuss what had been said at the meeting that evening. Feeling disinclined to talk for a moment, Hawking peered through the window, watching the darkened fields stream past and the juxtaposition of his friends reflected in the glass. His colleagues were arguing over one of the finer mathematical points in Penrose’s discussion. Suddenly, an idea struck him, and he looked away from the window. Turning to Sciama sitting across from him, he said, “I wonder what would happen if you applied Roger’s singularity theory to the entire Universe.” It was that single idea that saved Hawking’s Ph.D. and set him on the road to science superstardom.
    Penrose published his ideas in January 1965, by which time Hawking was already setting to work on the flash of inspiration that had struck him on the way home from London to Cambridge that night after the talk. Applying singularity theory to the Universe was by no means an easy problem, and within months Sciama was beginning to realize that his young Ph.D. student was doing something truly exceptional. For Hawking, this was the first time he had really applied himself to anything. As he says:
    I . . . started working hard for the first time in my life. To my surprise, I found I liked it. Maybe it is not really fair to call it work. Someone once said, “Scientists and prostitutes get paid for doing what they enjoy.” 11
    When he was satisfied with the mathematics behind the ideas, he began to write up his doctoral thesis. In manyrespects, it ended up as a pretty messy effort because he had been in something of a wilderness for much of the first half of his time at Cambridge. The problems he and Sciama had experienced in finding him suitable research projects had left a number of holes and unanswered questions in the thesis. However, it had one saving grace—his application of singularity theory during his third year.
    The final chapter of Hawking’s thesis was a brilliant piece of work and made all the difference to the awarding of the Ph.D. The work was judged by an internal examiner, Dennis Sciama, and an expert external referee. As well as being passed or failed, a Ph.D. can be deferred, which means that the student has to resubmit the thesis at a later date, usually after another year. Thanks to his final chapter, Hawking was saved this humiliation and the examiners awarded him