The judoka of ideas
I was surprised to learn, a few weeks ago, that David was suffering. And it was with deep sadness that I received the news of his passing, mixed with great admiration for the courage he showed in choosing to take a last one-way ticket.
David was my president at IDRC, but also, for a time, my direct boss when I was vice-president of programs. To praise all his achievements would be a perilous undertaking, as this scholar contributed to the intellectual development of what I may call “international affairs.” I witnessed the enthusiasm and passion that drove him when he went to teach at NYU while running the Centre, or when he and his colleagues were preparing the “bible” of international development published in 2014 by Oxford University Press. Nothing seemed to be able to stop him.
I also quickly measured the greatness of the man in the rigour of his thought and in the frankness with which he expressed it to his close collaborators. He did not hesitate, on occasion, to remind you that your arguments were “rather weak”. I understood quite quickly that it was, in fact, a form of respect: it offered me the chance — to be absolutely seized — to surpass myself next time. Thus, he made me grow. Yes, there was a bit of David in me when I became IDRC’s president following his tenure: the same aversion to complacency, the same taste for scientific rigour, and the same conviction that the impact of research in international development had to be demonstrated beyond the anecdotal. And let’s face it, a certain irritation with the language, the slowness and the decisions of bureaucracies to think outside the box!
An accomplished diplomat, he also knew how to make you shine at the right time, sometimes even surprise you. This is how he announced to me, discreetly and confidently, a few months before his departure for Tokyo, that he would become the rector of the United Nations University. Japan would then welcome a real black belt in international affairs! I suspect that David had probably read everything about judo. He had adopted its principles: the search for technical and tactical excellence, a moral commitment based on politeness, courage, sincerity, honor, modesty, respect, self-control and friendship. Like the judoka, he favored flexibility over brute force, and even when he threw you to the ground, he accompanied you to avoid the sudden fall — for the sake of not hurting you.
During our last conversation, in 2013, when he was stepping down as President of IDRC and I would be acting the next day, he came to my office and made a solemn promise: “Jean, from now on, I will not intervene directly or indirectly in the affairs of the Centre. You — or whoever will be in the chair of the chair — does not need the advice of his predecessor. The skills of the chosen candidate, supported by the Board, colleagues and networks, will guide him or her. And he added, “I had my chance. But if you ever want to, you can contact me.” Not only did David keep his word, but I myself made exactly the same promise to my successor.
We saw each other a few times, always with joy, exchanging about our lives, our challenges, and the news of the Centre. He had fond memories of his time at IDRC and had a deep respect for the new ideas that emerged from funding recipients and staff alike, including young emerging minds.
Without ever telling each other explicitly, we had great respect for each other. Although different, we shared the same dream: to contribute to a better world through ideas, experience and rigorous, uncompromising analysis.
Canada, IDRC, and the international business community have lost one of their most brilliant scholars, a man who handled culture, knowledge, letters, words, and knowledge with rare ease. An erudition that he generously offered to the world throughout a too short life.
My sympathies to his loved ones and family.
Jean Lebel
IDRC President, 2013-2023
Bulletin 79
January 2026