MOST unexpectedly, Francis’ interest in DNA temporarily fell to almost zero less than a week later. The cause was his decision to accuse a colleague of ignoring his ideas. The accusation was leveled at none other than his Professor. It happened less than a month after my arrival, on a Saturday morning. The previous day Max Perutz had given Francis a new manuscript by Sir Lawrence and himself, dealing with the shape of the hemoglobin molecule. As he rapidly read its contents Francis became furious, for he noticed that part of the argument depended upon a theoretical idea he had propounded some nine months earlier. What was worse, Francis remembered having enthusiastically proclaimed it to everyone in the lab. Yet his contribution had not been acknowledged. Almost at once, after dashing in to tell Max and John Kendrew about the outrage, he hurried to Bragg’s office for an explanation, if not an apology. But by then Bragg was at home, and Francis had to wait until the following morning. Unfortunately, this delay did not make the confrontation any more successful.
Sir Lawrence flatly denied prior knowledge of Francis’ efforts and was thoroughly insulted by the implication that he had underhandedly used another scientist’s ideas. On the other hand, Francis found it impossible to believe that Bragg could have been so dense as to have missed his oft-repeated idea, and he as much as told Bragg this. Further conversation became impossible, and in less than ten minutes Francis was out of the Professor’s office.
For Bragg this meeting seemed the final straw in his relations with Crick. Several weeks earlier Bragg had come into the lab greatly excited about an idea that came to him the previous evening, one that he and Perutz subsequently incorporated in their paper. While he was explaining it to Perutz and Kendrew, Crick happened to join the group. To his considerable annoyance, Francis did not accept the idea immediately but instead stated that he would go away and check whether Bragg was right or wrong. At this stage Bragg had blown his top and, with his blood pressure all too high, returned home presumably to tell his wife about the latest antics of their problem child.
This most recent tussle was a disaster for Francis, and he showed his uneasiness when he came down to the lab. Bragg, in dismissing him from his room, had angrily told him that he would consider seriously whether he could continue to give Francis a place in the laboratory after his Ph.D. course was ended. Francis was obviously worried that he might soon have to find a new position. Our subsequent lunch at the Eagle, the pub at which he usually ate, was restrained and unpunctuated by the usual laughter.
Sir Lawrence Bragg sitting at his Cavendish desk:
His concern was not without reason. Although he knew he was bright and could produce novel ideas, he could claim no clear-cut intellectual achievements, and he was still without his Ph.D. He came from a solid middle-class family and was sent to school at Mill Hill. Then he read physics at University College, London, and had commenced work on an advanced degree when the war broke out. Like almost all other English scientists, he joined the war effort and became part of the Admiralty’s scientific establishment. There he worked with great vigor, and, although many resented his nonstop conversation, there was a war to win and he was quite helpful in producing ingenious magnetic mines. When the war was over, however, some of his colleagues saw no sound reason to have him about forever, and for a period he was given to believe that he had no future in the scientific civil service.
Moreover, he had lost all desire to stay in physics and decided instead to try biology. With the help of the physiologist A. V. Hill, he obtained a small grant to come up to Cambridge in the fall of 1947. At first he did true biology at the Strangeways Laboratory, but this was obviously trivial and two years later he moved over to the Cavendish, where he joined Perutz and Kendrew. Here he again became excited about science and decided that perhaps he should finally work for a Ph.D. He thus enrolled as a research student (of Caius College) with Max as his supervisor. In a sense, this pursuit of the Ph.D. was a bore to a mind that worked too fast to be satisfied with the tedium involved in thesis research. On the other hand, his decision had yielded an unforeseen dividend: in this moment of crisis, he could hardly be dismissed before he got his degree.
Max and John quickly came to Francis’ rescue and interceded with the Professor. John confirmed that Francis had previously written an account of the argument in question, and Bragg acknowledged that the same idea had occurred independently to both. Bragg by that time had calmed down, and any question of Crick’s going was quietly shelved. Keeping him on was not easy on Bragg. One day, in a moment of despair, he revealed that Crick made his ears buzz. Moreover, he remained unconvinced that Crick was needed. Already for thirty-five years he had not stopped talking and almost nothing of fundamental value had emerged.
