The Hawking Effect

Stephen Hawking (2018), Brief Answers to the Big Questions, John Murray, pp. 220

“Newton gave us answers. Hawking gave us questions.'

                     Kip S. Thorne, Memorial Service of Stephen Hawking

One year ago, to this day, on International Pi Day and Albert Einstein’s birthday, Stephen Hawking, internationally renowned cosmologist and former Lucasian Professor of Mathematics at Cambridge University passed away. Arguably, the most celebrated and well-known living scientist of his time, Hawking broke frontiers in our understanding of the universe while blazing personal triumphs against a degenerative disorder. This volume of brief answers to the big questions is drawn from Hawking’s enormous and meticulously kept personal archives with a foreword by his on-screen alter ego Eddie Redmayne, introduction to his life and work by his long-term collaborator Kip Thorne of Caltech (US) and an afterword by his daughter Lucy. It is a volume celebrating his life, work and the inspiring person that Stephen Hawking was.

Questions and Answers

During his lifetime, Hawking was constantly queried by experts, world leaders, fellow scientists, business people and lay folk alike on everything from religion to science and the future of our planet. This book brings together ten such very big questions and Hawking’s responses to them. True to the eclectic nature of this exchange, only two out of the ten questions directly concern his discipline, cosmology. The rest include the stuff of science fiction like time travel and extra-terrestrial life to the future of humankind including prospects of colonizing space and being outsmarted by artificial intelligence. Stephen’s responses are detailed and scientific, his vision bold and daring, his spirit courageous and optimistic, his tone witty and self-deprecating. It also shows a remarkable openness to ideas, a child-like curiosity and a sense of wonder at everything around, profound respect and regard for the work of peers and intellectual forefathers, a constant awareness to privilege women (with his consistent use of the feminine pronoun throughout the book to refer to humankind), and silent pride in the achievements of humans over the last three centuries aided by science.

I went to the same college in Cambridge, Gonville & Caius, where Hawking was a fellow. I was at the King’s Parade (the iconic centre-town of Cambridge) with fellow Caians and people from all over the world as Cambridge bid adieu to its beloved professor. As to Caius and the rest of the world, his absence is not easily overcome. But we can take strength from his example and continue on the magnificent vision he shared with us.

Towards a Fellowship of Faith

Shashi Tharoor (2018), Why I am a Hindu?, Aleph, pp. 297

Works of polemic beginning with ‘Why I am (not) something’ makes for interesting reading because of the focus on a single side of the debate and the force of  arguments. The first of these and arguably the most well-known is Bertrand Russell’s Why I am not a Christian, a speech delivered for the National Secular Society, London which was later published as a pamphlet. So, I was much intrigued when the latest book of Indian Parliamentarian Shashi Tharoor came out last year, considering his brand of secularist Hinduism is increasingly portrayed to be irrelevant in contemporary India.

Tharoor makes his central argument in three parts. In the first, he sketches his personal version of Hinduism with its eclectic mix of beliefs and cosmopolitan view of the world. On the one hand, Tharoor questions several Hindu cultural traditions such as caste system and superstitions that have entrenched inequality among the Hindus over the centuries. He then explains his personal need to be a Hindu, with its emphasis on self-realisation rather than collective advancement, its doctrinal openness and flexibility of practice.

Political Hinduism

In the second part, Tharoor focuses on political Hinduism, which has endangered his personal HInduism. By tracing the ideology of Hindutva or Hindu nationalism through the doctrines of its proponents, the author demonstrates how the liberal and pluralistic ethos of Hinduism as a way of life is incompatible with the cultural nationalist version.

In the third and the last part, the author presents his arguments on how to take Hinduism back to its liberal fold. He argues that reclaiming the intellectual heterodoxy of Hinduism is the key to this project. Hindus were essentially henotheists, i.e., people who worshiped their gods whilst not denying the existence of other gods. For example, Hindus did not have dogma, prescriptive texts or even the need to believe in god to be accepted under its umbrella. This is why Hinduism is sometimes described as a ‘federation of philosophies’ or ‘fellowship of faith’. Reclaiming that version of Hinduism is not only relevant for liberal Hindus but also for inter-religious peace in a country such as India with immense religious diversity. Reform movement within religion may be an important strategy to retrieve other ways of thinking, of which textual work like this, may be the first step.

This book is well researched and duly annotated, catering to lay readers as well as individuals who are familiar with the religion. What makes it a compelling read is Tharoor’s personal conviction of his arguments and his plea to bring back freedom of thought and belief that enables Hindus and non-Hindus to live in peace. A timely intervention in these troubled times!