The extensive coverage of Stephen Hawking’s seventieth birthday on January 8 focused on the physicist’s status as the world’s most famous living scientist. But journalists largely avoided commenting on the major force that created his celebrity: the media themselves.
The build-up began in earnest last week when Hawking gave an exclusive interview to New Scientist in which he discussed the most exciting development in physics over the course of his career (finding evidence that the universe expanded rapidly after the Big Bang), his biggest scientific blunder (thinking that information was destroyed in black holes), and his advice to young physicists (formulate an original idea that opens a new field).
But none of these comments was as newsworthy, seemingly, as the response he gave to a question about what he thinks about most during the day: “Women. They are a complete mystery.” This quote was chosen as the lead in stories about Hawking by, among others, CBS news, The Guardian, The Telegraph, and The Huffington Post.
This focus on Hawking-as-personality illuminates a recurring theme in his public life: that his fame—his reputation as “the brightest star in the scientific universe”—has as much, and perhaps more, to do with his media-created popular appeal as with his scientific achievements.
Fame is not a result of some innate characteristic. There must be portrayal through the media. And at the very least, famous figures are complicit in the construction of their celebrity. But while coverage of behind-the-scenes image-making is routine in political journalism, there was an almost complete lack of similarly-angled coverage about Hawking.
Yet the New Scientist interview was not the first time that Hawking seems to have tailored his comments to garner journalistic interest. Throughout his career, he and his publishers have demonstrated a keen understanding of the dynamics of publicity.
The most-remembered part of his bestselling popular cosmology book, A Brief History of Time, was the last line, where he wrote that if scientists find a grand, unifying theory of physics, then “it would be the ultimate triumph of human reason—for then we would know the mind of God.” (He later wrote that he almost cut the last line, but that doing so might have halved his sales.)
The promotion of A Brief History was heavily Hawking-centered. His photograph appeared on the coverage of most editions and part of the blurb for the 1988 hardback American edition, for example, read: “From the vantage point of the wheelchair where he has spent the last twenty years trapped by Lou Gehrig’s disease, Professor Hawking has transformed our view of the universe.”
His last coauthored book, The Grand Design, gained enormous amounts of publicity with its argument that many universes were created out of nothing after the Big Bang, arising naturally from physical laws, without the need for a creator to account for the origin of the universe. More coverage followed last May when he told The Guardian that there was no heaven. He said: “That is a fairy story for people afraid of the dark.”
Some coverage of Hawking’s seventieth birthday did comment on his understanding of journalism’s attraction to charismatic individuals. Laura Miller at Salon reviewed the new biography by Kitty Ferguson, Stephen Hawking: An Unfettered Mind, writing that the physicist’s personal struggles cannot be separated from his fame. She added that his references to religion could indicate “Hawking knows how just to tweak the public’s interest in him as an oracular figure.”
In another piece dedicated to the reasons for Hawking’s cultural prominence, Kathy Sykes, professor of sciences and sciences at the University of Bristol, UK, said his fame, like his science, was multi-dimensional.
For her, his research was field-changing. A Brief History of Time stirred imaginations and Hawking’s appearances in entertainment media—on Star Trek, The Simpsons, and Pink Floyd’s Division Bell album, for example—contributed to his mystique, but, above all, his humanity and courage in living with the debilitating effects of Lou Gehrig’s disease captured the public imagination.
It is this image of Hawking that has overridden all others—the impression of him, in the words of one journalist, as “a butterfly mind trapped in a diving-bell body.”