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

1 December 2011

from Ayse Saygin

"When you learn something, you change. Your brain is no longer the same. In some sense, we carry with us everything we learn, everyone we learn from. In the very wiring of our brain, in the fact that we have changed, whether we know it consciously or not ... The most valuable things we learn from mentors are often also the most intangible, the hardest to explain. Those they teach us by setting an example, by reacting to everyday situations the way they do, simply by being themselves. And those things cannot be taken away." 

I wrote these lines about my PhD advisor Liz Bates when we lost her. Now unfortunately I revisit similar feelings with the tragic news of the passing of my postdoc mentor, Jon Driver. I ended up doing a post-doc with Jon by accident. It was truly a misunderstanding that led to him emailing me "I heard you're looking for a postdoc in London, lets talk". Wow, Jon Driver was writing to me! I don't even know if he ever found out about the misunderstanding, but I was not going to ignore such an opportunity! After what seemed like ages for funding and immigration to fall into place, I did pack up and go to London. It was one of the best decisions I made. Jon was among my very favorite people to discuss science with. Meetings were always full of ideas - some brilliant, some half-baked as we called them - so many that we had to write emails to ourselves as a record as we talked. We designed experiments on napkins in fancy London restaurants. Each time our elegant yet masochistic experiments led to a hard-to-interpret 3-way interaction, we'd promise to keep it simple next time. Jon was funny, creative, smart, and behind that very impressive intellect, he was also kind and supportive. When I was worried sick about my future in research, Jon was a key person who kept me going. It was a privilege to know him. My heart goes out to his family and I wish all of us the best as we grieve this huge loss.