My tribute to Bob Deacon. How hard can this be? Words are my business. Words were Bob’s business. What did Bob Deacon mean to me personally and professionally in 500 words or less. What to say? What tense to use? He meant everything to me. He meant the world to me. He expanded my world, personally and professionally, mentoring, collaborating with and befriending me at a time when I needed all three things more than usual.
Isabel Ortiz, the director of social protection in the International Labour Organization, was absolutely right when she wrote, in her obituary to Bob, that he was a giant of social policy. He was also a humble giant. A giant who was always more than happy to let me stand on his shoulders and not dwarf me in his shadow.
He opened doors for me throughout Eastern Europe. He had been there before the fall of the Berlin wall, he had worked with progressive social policy scholars and dissident intellectuals, and he had listened, carefully and critically, never pretending to know better. He was a true partner in work on the post-Yugoslav space, insisting that there had to be a social dimension to post-conflict peace-building.
We did not always agree about things – he could never understand my penchant for chilled continental lagers rather than warm bitter. But he was always someone I loved working with, writing with, debating with and sometimes disagreeing with. Those disagreements, I think, provided a creative spark for both of us to write more and, perhaps even, better.
He cared deeply about social justice in anti-social times. He stood against the global hegemony of the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank when it would have been so easy to sell out. He was a genuine internationalist who believed that knowledge, passion, solidarity and commitment could change the world. His vision in writing the book Global Social Policy, in leading the Globalism and Social Policy Programme, and in establishing the Global Social Policy journal showed him to be ahead of his time, creating a new field of study, inextricably linked to advocacy efforts.
I am proud that Alexandra Kaasch and I were able to edit a series of essays, including by Fiona Williams and by Nicola Yeates, for his 70th birthday. And I was so pleased that Bob contributed a chapter, rare in its reflexivity and humility. I dare to suggest that his trilogy of books ‘Global Social Policy’, ‘Global Social Policy and Governance’, and ‘Global Social Policy in the Making’ will define the discipline for years to come. Today, as I remember how I first met Bob through Fiona, and how delighted he was to live long enough to see the twins being born, it is hard not to think of the circle of life.
And in this spirit, Bob was not only ahead of his time in thinking and acting globally but also, in the last few years, he found a new niche relocalising, campaigning and making friends in his beloved Hebden Bridge and writing books on walks in the area retracing its socialist and feminist heritage. I loved travelling with Bob or meeting him at conferences all over the world. He would research diligently which was the best restaurant and then insist on paying his fair share of the bill, fogetting his salary was somewhat higher than mine! We attended many jazz festivals together and planned to attend many more. I will miss him whenever I hear good jazz played. I will miss him full stop.
I will always regret that neither of us got visas for a conference we co-organised in St Petersburg this year where we planned to toast the centenary of the Russian revolution. If I end this with the words ‘farewell comrade’ it doesn’t quite have the same meaning as if I use the Croatian phrase where comrade denotes a fellow socialist but also a close friend, someone you would do anything for. So, doviđenja, druže. I love you and I will miss you so much.
Paul Stubbs