Stephen Hawking’s brilliant 24/7 carers should have been hailed as the real stars in his universe

THE tributes for Stephen Hawking on his death aged 76 were an eloquent reflection of his extraordinary achievements. His brilliant intellect and passion for discovery helped solve some of the mysteries of the universe while his insights into gravity, space and time mean that his legacy may resonate like Einstein’s for generations to come.

On top of his genius for physics, Hawking had a flair for communications, a trait unusual in intellectuals who often exist in an ivory tower, cut off from the rest of the world. His bestselling book A Brief History Of Time, which he wrote chiefly to make some money for his family, helped popularise cosmology and brought terms like quantum mechanics and black hole theory into common currency.

But for all his populist touch, Hawking could only bring the masses so far along the road to enlightenment – without a level of scientific literacy on our part, his work was a mind-bending concoction of formulae and equations, obscure double Dutch.

Disability

But while his work was impossible to understand, there was nothing unfathomable about Hawking’s disability.

Slumped in his customised wheelchair, his synthesised voice echoing from a computer as he selected words and commands using a hand- clicker, there was never any hiding the ravages of degenerative motor neurone disease on his body.

In the popular imagination, his frail body bolstered by medical machinery was centre stage: it defined his image and to a large extent his celebrity.

He overcame the sort of obstacles that would floor most people to continue working and turned himself as much into an icon of courage in adversity as a giant of science.

This naturally struck a chord for those touched directly or i ndirectly with disability.

Indeed all our human struggles – illness, financial pressures, the curve balls life throws at us when we are least expecting them – can be ameliorated through his inspirational example.

‘However difficult life may seem, there is always something you can do and succeed at,’ he once wrote. ‘It matters that you don’t give up.’

But while the generous obituaries and tributes to his greatness remind us of the human race’s enormous debt to Professor Hawking, one important aspect is missing.

And that is our debt also to Hawking’s constant army of carers and nurses, especially his two wives and particularly his first wife Jane Hawking who single-handedly looked after him in the years of obscurity before he became the starman and the wealthy rockstar of science.

For all of Hawking’s remarkable attributes – his steely determination, his brilliant mind, his exacting, stubborn nature – he would not have survived to work on black holes or discover Hawking radiation without Jane.

Confined to a wheelchair from the late Sixties, as the years rolled in he became wholly physically dependent. He could not even take a drink or turn the pages in a book without assistance.

His travel to international academic conferences were major logistical operations. A US physicist recalls in the Atlantic magazine meeting Professor Hawking and his entourage at the airport in California and accompanying them to their hotel.

Tea

After checking in, Hawking decided to do some grocery shopping before dinner.

‘While parked at a local supermarket, a stream of nurses travelled between the van and the store, bringing various samples of tea bags for Stephen to choose from. Stephen, solid Englishman that he was, was very particular about his tea,’ writes his colleague with affection.

Of course it would be absurd to conflate the cosmic importance of Hawking’s work and the routine job of caring for him.

His remarkable brainpower and insights were unique and original whereas roundthe-clock nursing can be performed by any number of qualified individuals.

Yet the fact that carers are replaceable is hardly an excuse for making them invisible.

Despite lip service to the contrary, society takes caregivers for granted whether it’s wives, mothers or offspring who are caring for free or professionals who are paid little more than the minimum wage. This offhand view is reflected in the almost cursory mention of Hawking’s nurses and carers in the narrative of his life despite their crucial role in it.

A large retinue of carers and faculty acolytes willingly tended to the needs of the great scientist over the years at his home in Cambridge. It’s doubtful that even his brilliant mind could keep track of all those who attended him.

And it was their devotion, every bit as much as his singular determination, that allowed him once declare that ‘my disabilities have not been a significant handicap in my field, which is theoretical physics’.

Heatstroke

When he divorced his first wife Jane after 30 years of marriage, his second wife Elaine Mason took up the reins with alacrity.

His second marriage ended in divorce in 2006 after 11 years amid rumours that Hawking had cheated on his wife with another caregiver and also whispers that she in turn was ‘controlling and manipulative’ of her vulnerable spouse with some insiders going so far as to call her a ‘bully’.

Accusations of Elaine fracturing the professor’s wrist by slamming it on a wheelchair and leaving him out in the garden for so long that he got heatstroke and sunburn were formally investigated by the police but there were no charges.

The carer-patient relationship can be fraught with resentment and emotions can run high, particularly when it involves loved ones.

Hawking’s first wife Jane wrote the book Travelling To Infinity: My Life With Stephen, which got the Hollywood treatment i n the biopic The Theory Of Everything.

Jane explained that when they married in 1965 Stephen had already been diagnosed with his devastating illness but only given a few years to live.

His care stretched out decades longer than expected. She spent 28 years keeping him alive and nurturing his career, and eventually the toll caused her to fall into a deep depression.

When he broke into the big time, Jane’s 20 years’ worth of calls for nursing assistance were finally heeded by Cambridge and she found herself surrounded by a staff of nurses 24/7 who turned her home into a hospital like institution.

In interviews promoting her book, Jane said that she was exploited as Stephen’s carer while all around him others were benefiting from his genius.

‘Some people don’t want to know about it,’ she said. ‘The carer of the disabled person is always in the background. People don’t want to hear about the nittygritty and the hardship. They want to think that he did it all by himself.’

As Stephen Hawking is laid to rest, his ex-wife’s words ring louder than ever.