A tribute to Jonathan Temple (1971-2026)

To those of us who knew Jonathan Temple well, it was impossible to imagine anything that could happen in the world that would change the regard and affection that we had for him. Why is it that these relationships, formed in the noise and bustle of the world, lead to something that seems to stand alone from it?

Those of us who were fortunate enough to have had a glimpse into Jon’s heart know, in a way that is beyond sentiment, what an incredibly precious thing we witnessed. His kindness had a freshness all of its own, and it didn’t fade with age. Watching him literally tiptoe around his own flat to avoid disturbing the neighbours, seeing him urgently rush over to pick up a man’s hat that had blown off in the wind and give it back to him with so much naturalness and simplicity - there are so many of these little stories, spanning his whole life, that perhaps illustrate him the best. His great friend Juliette remembers walking with him in Cambridge as students when they saw some broken glass on the path. He didn't proceed till he had picked up and binned every single piece of glass.

He had a wonderful, wonderful mind. Having topped his cohort in the first two years of the Cambridge economics tripos, he missed the first term of the third due to illness and apparently devoted most of the second term to his role in leading the Student Community Association. Remarkably in the circumstances, he still managed to come second in his final year exams (and scrupulously feigned disappointment about this). The following year he was a wise and guiding hand for many of his fellow students on the MPhil, many of us not really knowing what we were doing. The year after, starting his Oxford DPhil at Nuffield, he decided that he would write a survey on economic growth. A first draft completed very largely in his first term at Oxford, this survey went on to be published in the Journal of Economic Literature. It was read by really everyone working in the area, as were his extremely well-known web pages for growth resources, also begun unbelievably early in his postgraduate career.  He was very happy at Oxford. He stayed on as a Junior Research Fellow at Hertford College and held a research position at the Institute of Economics and Statistics there. Many more publications followed, and it was little surprise when, at the age of 29, he was given a Chair at one of the leading universities in the UK, the University of Bristol.

His academic achievements, as wonderful as they were, do not fully capture the combination of intelligence, kindness, warmth and wisdom that made him so delightful to be around. It is no surprise that there was a deep appreciation of this amongst his colleagues and his PhD students. A common theme of the many incredibly touching tributes that have been written about Jon is just how very far out of his way he would go to be helpful, in such an intelligent, self-effacing and thoughtful way. Leaving aside an enviable set of publications, just the conversations and interactions he has had with colleagues over the years have left a lasting impression on macroeconomic thought.

He was very close to his family and spoke very lovingly of his parents, Pat and John, of Helen, of his siblings and most of all of his dearly beloved daughter Hannah. He was one of life’s great readers and a great writer too. He had a great sense of fun. Amidst all the serious reading, it turned out that he had a lot of affection for ‘The Wind in the Willows’ by Kenneth Grahame. He was genuinely somewhat old-fashioned, in the nicest possible way, and, without ever saying so, he seemed to enjoy most the more innocent pleasures of life. It can confidently be conjectured, partly based on a holiday to the Greek islands, that he would have much empathised with the rat when he said to the mole, “there is nothing … so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.” Those of us who were so very lucky enough to work with him know what a delight it was. It was every bit as fun as messing around in boats.

Jon was one of those people who had always seemed too good for this world. There are always difficulties for such people, but through them, if we pay attention, we begin to see what is beyond us, to hear what we did not know was there to be heard, and we begin, a little, to perceive the unknown unknowns. My last memories of him were of that wonderfully warm, intelligent, cultured, lively voice, full of self-knowledge and compassion. He led a magnificent life.

Mathan Satchi