When Jane Goodall, the English primatologist and anthropologist, died on October 1st 2025 last year, I felt sad. Why is that? Why is it that on the passing of someone I’ve never personally met I was moved to tears?
It felt to me like a part of us had died. A part of our collective global humanity. But that alone cannot fully be it. Lots of people die every day, sad as it is. People die of old age, or by accident. Some die of ill health or succumb to their injuries. But the knowledge and realization of that doesn’t cause me to cry. A feeling of sadness when thinking about it, sure, but not enough to stir something deeper inside me.
Perhaps it’s due to the extraordinariness of her life and work. That at the beginning of her career, some others in her field didn’t think much of her, and even critizized some of her methods. But it was precisely by doing things differently than the rest that we now know so much more about our closest living primate relatives. And perhaps its this in part where I see a part of myself.
I shall think about this topic and explore these feeling further at a later date…