Professor sir john meurig thomas obituary

The teenage John Meurig Thomas sat in awe listening as Irene James, his physics teacher at Gwendraeth Grammar School, described the work of Michael Faraday, the 19th-century scientist known

for his work on electricity. “She had the gift of not just telling us what physics was about but adding biographical details of great scientists,” he recalled, adding that in her classes

“the flame of science was lit in my heart and in my mind”. Forty years later Miss James was in the front row as Thomas gave his inaugural lecture as director of the Royal Institution, a post

once occupied by Faraday. He especially enjoyed living in the quarters that Faraday and his wife had occupied in Albemarle Street, in Mayfair, central London: “When I retired at night, the

bathroom furniture had a brass plate bearing his signature; and each time I gazed at it, I felt, knowing how prodigiously hard he used to work, that I had not done enough to earn a night’s

sleep.” Thomas, a Welshman to his core with a gloriously resonant voice and an eloquent turn of phrase, was a founder of solid-state chemistry, sometimes known as materials chemistry. His

work centred on zeolite catalysts, natural solids with open “cage-like” 3D structures that allow for highly specific separations and chemical reactions to be “tuned”. These have significant

applications ranging from use in water softeners, detergents and the detoxification of waste water, to removing radioactive particles from nuclear waste, cleaning up soils and extracting

maximum energy and value from barrels of oil. Among the qualities underpinning Thomas’s achievements were his passion for science, which he delivered through humanity and a total command of

the spoken and written word. He was also known for his encyclopaedic reading, prodigious memory and encouraging mentorship of colleagues worldwide. An American journal once described him as

“a coruscating and articulate lecturer, whose elegant use of language and analogy adds colour and vivacity to his presentations”. Yet for all his towering accomplishments, Thomas regarded

his greatest achievement as being able “to combine being a teacher, a researcher and a populariser of science for over 50 years”. Advertisement John Meurig Thomas was born in 1932 in a small

village near Llanelli, in Carmarthenshire, south Wales, the fourth of five children of David Thomas, a coalminer who had been awarded a Military Medal at Gallipoli. His mother, Edyth, had

left school at 12 and spoke only Welsh. “I was brought up in the Gwendraeth Valley, where the coalmines run out and beyond which is the agricultural area, the setting of Dylan Thomas’s _Fern

Hill_,” he told the Lives website in 2007. His father encouraged him in bird-watching and egg collecting, “but very responsibly, only taking one egg when there were five or six”. In a

recent lecture he explained that his options were “to become a preacher, teacher or work underground”. A brother who was 12 years his senior joined their father in the mines, a destiny that

would have befallen young John had there not been educational reforms. Although a reluctant rugby player, he did become Welsh walking-race champion. Later he played cricket for the

University of Wales and, until becoming a professor, for south Wales and Monmouthshire. Meanwhile, the Welsh chapel tradition introduced him to choral music as well as honing his powers of

concentration. “It was in the chapel that I learnt to be an academic by listening to and analysing very many powerful sermons,” he explained. From Gwendraeth Grammar School he went to

University College of Wales, Swansea, where first-year students had to prepare and read aloud a fortnightly essay on a broad range of subjects and then engage in an hour’s discussion with

their professor. His undergraduate education “was at least as good as what students were taught in Cambridge”, he said, adding that at Swansea he received the best advice of his career:

“Read, read, read; write, write, write.” By contrast the worst, which came from a colleague after Thomas confessed to nerves before delivering a lecture, was: “When in doubt, shout.” He

began studying steroids for a PhD at Swansea, but was persuaded to switch to looking at solids and surfaces and later moved with his supervisor, Keble Sykes, to Queen Mary College, London.

From there he “stupidly” joined the Atomic Energy Authority. “I am ambivalent at best about atomic weapons and didn’t want to be there,” he recalled. Advertisement In 1958 he was appointed

to an assistant lectureship at the University College of North Wales, Bangor, running a course on the history and evolution of science, improving his Welsh language skills and exploring the

culture and scenery of north Wales. He told how he “sedulously followed the premier chemical and physical journals”, but often had to wait a week to receive copies through the inter-library

loan service. Later he bemoaned the move to online journals, adding: “My education owes a great deal to having read the paper next to the one I wanted to consult: this is much more difficult

to do on a computer.” Meanwhile, he had met Margaret Edwards, a biblical scholar, and they were married in 1959. Despite his wife’s work and his chapel upbringing, he was “not a convinced

Christian”. Margaret later taught comparative religion at the Perse School for Girls in Cambridge. She died in 2002 and he is survived by their daughters, Lisa, who is a lawyer, and Naomi, a

musician. In 2010 he married Jehane Ragai, professor of chemistry at the American University in Cairo, who also survives him. Michael Faraday depicted on the £20 note DEAGOSTINI/GETTY

IMAGES The appointment of a new head of department at Bangor led to Thomas feeling squeezed out and in 1969 he moved to the University College of Wales, Aberystwyth, as professor and head of

chemistry, acquiring a reputation for attracting eminent visitors and inviting local people to their lectures. He fully intended remaining there, but in 1978 came a professorship at the

University of Cambridge with the added attraction of the music at King’s College, which offered him a fellowship. Yet not all was as it should be in the physical chemistry department. “I

found some of the technicians were growing tomato plants as no one was checking on what they were doing,” he said. In 1986 he joined the Royal Institution as director and was appointed

Fullerian professor of chemistry in the Davy Faraday research laboratory. The following year he delivered the televised Royal Institution Christmas lectures on crystals, continuing a

tradition of lectures aimed at inspiring children started in 1825 by Faraday. He was also one of the leading figures behind a successful campaign to have Faraday depicted on the Bank of

England’s £20 note, as part of the 1991 celebrations to mark the bicentenary of his birth. After a spell as deputy pro-chancellor of the University of Wales he returned to Cambridge in 1993

as master of Peterhouse, the first chemist to hold that office in the college’s 710-year history. He was delighted to find that “even the right-wing fellows were nice people”. In 1998 he was

called upon to use a casting vote to prevent John Adamson, a historian with controversial views on the English civil war, from being thrown out when dons were split 13-13 over whether to

renew Adamson’s tenure. Thomas retired in 2002 and five years later his 75th birthday celebrations were attended by Angela Merkel, the German chancellor, whom he knew through working with

her husband, Joachim Sauer. Advertisement Thomas enjoyed walking up to three miles a day, “partly to keep physically fit but partly for mental stocktaking”. He read poetry aloud, both in

English and Welsh, and the one thing guaranteed to make him laugh was any film featuring Charlie Chaplin. In 2014 he became president of the National Eisteddfod of Wales, declaring: “I

rejoice in the fact of my being a Welshman.” His extensive entry in _Who’s Who _included countless visiting fellowships, guest lectures and scientific honours, as well as an impressive list

of publications including _Michael Faraday and the Royal Institution: The Genius of Man and Place _(1991). He listed one of his recreations as “reading other people’s recreations in _Who’s

Who_”. In 1995 a rare mineral, Meurigite, was named after him by the International Mineralogical Association. Although Thomas did take out some patents, he was diffident about being aligned

with industry and much of his work was sponsored by research councils. “I have got grants from companies towards research, but refuse to sell out to multinationals,” he said, adding that he

feared big companies exploiting their links with prestigious universities. “The duty of the university is primarily to pursue knowledge,” he insisted. Nowhere was this pursuit of knowledge

more evident than in a paper that he co-authored in the journal _Nature Catalysis_, which was published on the day he died and reflects his recent interest in using electromagnetic radiation

to break down chemical bonds selectively. It showed that microwaves could turn plastic waste into hydrogen fuel (News, October 17, 2020), demonstrating Thomas’s long-held view that

scientific endeavour must address the world’s sustainability challenges. PROFESSOR SIR JOHN MEURIG THOMAS, CHEMIST, WAS BORN ON DECEMBER 15, 1932. HE DIED OF CANCER ON NOVEMBER 13, 2020,

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