Jon Driver died suddenly on 28th November 2011. Jon was a wonderful individual; a loving son, husband, father and brother; and an irreplaceable friend and colleague.

This is a place for everyone who knew Jon to share our memories of him and through this to help celebrate his life.

If you would like to add a description of your memories of Jon to this blog please contact with the text you would like posted. We welcome any contribution, from short snippets to longer pieces. Please bear in mind this is a place to remember Jon and to help celebrate his life.

As well as this blog, there is also a photograph album to which friends and colleagues are most welcome to contribute. If you would like to add one or more pictures please email it/them to

7 December 2011

from Alan Allport

Conversations with Jon - about science or practically anything - were some of the best, the liveliest, the most enriching I have had in all my long life. He was so sharp, so zestfully open-minded, so serious - and yet so playful. It didn’t matter where you happened to be. I remember a fantastic discussion we had on the little Sicilian island of Marettimo, after an A&P meeting, looking down from the mountaintop above the tiny harbour and talking all day about a fantastic variety of things (including even a bit of cognitive psychology). Other, equally warm, zestful conversations happened in the gloomy blacked-out basement of the physiology department in Parma. Wherever you were, he was an absolute delight to be with.

As an undergraduate it was obvious already he was a superstar. But instead of going on immediately to do a PhD, Jon opted instead to spend a year as a research assistant (with Peter McLeod and me), to give himself time to figure out what line of research he really wanted to pursue. This deep humility and thoughtfulness, and deep commitment to ‘getting it right’, and getting to the truth, were the hallmark of everything Jon did. After that year, once launched on a PhD he completed it at lightning speed and with the absolute minimum of supervision from me (just lots of those hugely enjoyable, wide-ranging conversations!). And of course, from then on I just watched him fly.

Now, though I have long since left cognitive psychology and – to my regret - have not been in contact with him recently, his loss feels truly dreadful. But his impact on the whole field of cognitive neuroscience, as well as his vivid presence in the hearts of everyone who knew him, will long live on.