Doug is the only current member of the UBC Linguistics Department who has been there longer than me. He is also the person who is directly responsible for saving the Department from dissolution after it shrunk to a tiny rump of four-and-a-half faculty members, and under whose steady hand it subsequently grew to a point where its viability as an independent unit could no longer be called into question, not only in terms of numbers, but also in terms of academic excellence and intellectual integrity.
Doug has also gotten me personally out of trouble more times than I can remember. On at least three of those occasions, I was very close to losing my job, which means I effectively owe him my career. For the last few years, he and I have also been each other’s faculty mentors, which has meant our usual relationship has been officially sanctioned: he gives me valuable advice, which I – generally to my own detriment – promptly ignore. I hope that he will continue to act as my mentor emeritus in the years to come.
Reflecting on Doug’s influence and example in these current Trying Times, I cannot help thinking – and he will hate me for saying this, even though deep down he knows it’s true – that there is something quintessentially Canadian about his character. On the surface, there is Pollyanna Doug, almost pathologically Pythonesque in his ability to see the bright side of life. But underneath is the kind of obduracy that the British Empire recognized when it always sent Canadian troops into the front line first. In other words, if I find a hill to die on, I really hope Doug is there too – and on my side. In truth, I have been relying on him being on my side as colleague and friend for the last thirty years; I am profoundly grateful for his support and friendship, and look forward to it continuing.