Defying nearly all odds for a human with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, Stephen Hawking lived an amazing and productive life for 55 years after the initial diagnosis wherein he was given only a handful of years to survive. He became a household name for both lofty intellectuals and folks with even a passing interest in science, and shared his insights and passion with us fortunate souls as the world sped up around him.
In recent years one of his most vocal positions was that humanity absolutely must become a multi-planetary species, or face certain extinction from any one of a number of possible events: nuclear war, violent climate change, unexpected asteroids, or a sudden willful descent into the plot of Idiocracy. Not keeping all of the eggs in one basket is a good, pragmatic approach to nearly any endeavor, and the preservation of the human race should be paramount among them. Over the years, as we crested the milestone of the year 2000, and now find ourselves well into that century, he became increasingly frustrated at the lack of apparent interest or progress in returning humanity to the stars.
As we report on Mars Gazette with great fervor, the recent Falcon Heavy launch by SpaceX is, without doubt, the most purposeful, solidly executed and clearly stated step yet taken by mankind to honestly pursue and achieve that goal of human settlement offworld. I, as many others, mourn Dr. Hawking’s passing, though wonder if it may have been somewhat eased by this amazing scientific and social achievement. After so many decades of pain, tenacity and the stiffest of all British upper-lips, he managed to live long enough to see that step taken. He knew that he had fought long enough to see humanity finally achieve that next phase of our collective evolution, sometimes in spite of ourselves, and that the cause he had championed as one of his main projects in his twilight years would now be carried to completion. He could finally rest, knowing that humanity would carry on.