John Condliffe: the brilliant ‘Anzac’

Press, 14 January 1982, Page 12

John Condliffe: the brilliant ‘Anzac’

A personal memoir

My long, if somewhat intermittent, association with John Bell Condliffe led to the suggestion that I might say something of this distinguished person who died in California on December 23. his ninetieth birthday. It would take a more comoetent oen than mine adequately to record the life-story, the achievements, and the deserts of such a brilliant peripatetic as John Condliffe.

I met him first when, like many undergraduates at Canterbury University College, I saw strolling the Quadrangle this slim, rather short, fairhaired, studious Melbournian who was then the bright and particular star shining above our academic horizon. It was known to most of us that the eminent Dr James Hight, then his mentor and professor, held Condliffe’s intellect and attitude to life in the very highest esteem.

How well was that assessment fulfilled. His imposing string of personal achievements has been recorded in many places and it is not going too far to say that very few, if any, of the natural or adopted sons of our country contributed more to his day and generation than this quiet, dedicated, wise, cheerful, and brilliant Anzac. I say “Anzac” because, though he was born in Australia. New Zealand was the country of his parental family home and of the years of his secondary and tertiary education and academic development. It was also for so long the location of his national affection. He was not born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Indeed, much of his earlier life was spent in surroundings of struggle that took all the sterling quality of fine parentage to surmount. For his part, he never ceased to give evidence

of strong filial affection and would many a time recall with gratitude the devotion of his father — a craftsman potter — and the sacrificial dedication of a wonderful mother to his advancement. He told me once how his mother stinted her personal comfort to ensure the better education of himself and of a deserving family.

In those distant days before World War I the local community knew of his dedication to the inaugural development of the Workers' Educational Association. Well-known people were in his classes: the names of Fraser. Nash, Semple, and H. E. Holland were to be found on his class roll. It may safely be assumed that such moderation as marked their socialistic philosophy would largely derive from the love of individuality and ■ spirit of private enterprise and humanitarianism with which their tutor was so richly endowed. Condliffe’s rigorous application to solid, practical development of education was sometimes at variance with, for instance, the dramatic charisma which James Shelley displayed in his interpretation of the W.E.A.’s policy. In some way, sweet reason co-ordinated his theory with that of his collaborator and the good work went on.

John's aim was to inculcate a habit of hard work, a love of the subject studied, and the inspiration to be drawn from it. He would say that it was better to wear out than rust out: he had no time for laggards. but a warm admiration for the tryers. John was himself the pattern and exemplar of his doctrine.

He encouraged initiative, liked the foraging mind, and believed in Oliver Goldsmith’s

assessment of greatness, for he scorned the beaten road from his sense of universal benevolence.

I remember him in a very different milieu — war. War interrupted his academic career. I recall particularly in Belgium that day of heavy shelling near the Butte de Polygon in the Ypres sector when the sad call went round: “They've got Jack Condliffe.” Fortunately the injury to body and eye, though serious, was not mortal and by courage and acceptance of disability he underwent nursing and treatment which brought him back to acceptable condition. He had been very badly shell-shocked and was lucky to survive.

After a convalescence and a period at Cambridge and of teaching at the London School of Economics, he came home to his real alma mater to assist Dr Hight. At the age of 29 he was on the Professorial Board of the University College. Very soon he became Professor of Economics there and acquired a respect and loyalty for the institution which made him its stalwart friend and benefactor ever after.

To his professorial duties he brought that enthusiastic intensity of dedication so characteristic of his whole attitude to education. Between times, he still showed unflagging devotion to the W.E.A. One might suspect that his make-up left little room for respite from an almost spartan discipline in teaching. No such thing! Close beneath the surface of his academic zeal was warm, human sympathy, a generous sense of appreciation, cheerfulness. and geniality. He was a raconteur par excellence. His spirit of companionship endeared him to all associates. They realised that his tutelary

spirit and high mental endowments and that other type of genius — the infinite capacity for taking pains — were rounded by natural charm and the common touch that made the whole world kin. In the late twenties he left New Zealand to take an appointment as Director of the Research Institute of Pacific Relations in Honolulu. He was no longer just an Anzac and this event stimulated his lifetime appreciation of the Pacific as an area of growing world importance. He was attracted soon to even wider fields of interest. From 1931 to 1937 he wrote the first six World Economic Surveys for the League of Nations. This really put a brand of distinction upon him which a year or two later was highlighted by his appointment as the Rapporteur for the International Chamber of Commerce. Even higher endorsement of his growing eminence was shown when he became adviser to the Indian National Council of Economic Research and had the task of reforming the economic position of a huge nation struggling with the complexities created by over-popu-lation, diverse languages, conflicting castes, a difficult climate, and a sadly low standard of living. It was a task for a Leviathan and put a further stamp of greatness upon John Condliffe.

It was not surprising that the enterprise of the United States quickly found a niche for him. He became senior economist to the renowned Stanford Research Institute and. in that role, he helped to guide the commercial destiny of several of the biggest corporations of the United States. At times he was engaged to examine the economy of the federation itself.

In spite of the calls of such prestigious tasks upon his time he continued to make masterly and lucid summations of conferences and to write erudite books. He won numerous prizes including the Howland Prize — an award of Yale University given for creative achievement of marked distinction in letters, the fine arts, or the science of government. In 1959 his classic, first written in earlier years, “The Commerce of Nations,” was awarded the Wendell Wilkie Prize as the best international book of the year. His books include "New Zealand in the Making,” first published in 1939 but later revised and remaining still an authoritative economic history of the Dominion. "The Welfare State

in New Zealand" (1959) was published after a prolonged visit to New Zealand as consultant to the Reserve Bank. This was a complete appraisal of the recent experimental legislation of our country.

Then in 1969. and dedicated to his wife Olive, came “The Economic Outlook for New’ Zealand," which I knew from his own mouth was meant to be a sympathetic analysis of the beloved country of his adoption and which emphasised the need for new industries and exports and the adoption of the new technology necessary for their implementation.

In 1971 he still found time to write, as a personal tribute, the life of Te Rangi Hiroa (Sir Peter Buck), who was a good friend of his and said to be the most loved man in Hawaii. The author of this colourful biography said that, to put the story of Sir Peter's life into shape for publication, was a labour of love; for he wished to convey to those who never knew him something of his many-sided and warm personality and the wwk he did for his Maori people.

This mention of friendship leads me to conclude by saying how comforting it is to know that, before he died in December, John had just completed his autobiography. It will record the pleasure he felt at receiving the award of K.C.M.G., which, in other circumstances than the fact of his naturalisation as a citizen of the United States, would have carried with it the right to be known as Sir John Bell Condliffe.

Such delight as came with it sprang from the fact that it was a British award given for services to the general public and to his Commonwealth, and to his adopted country in particular.

The honour was richly deserved. John was a scholar, a professor, an economist, an historian, and a philosopher. The book will be the life story of a modest man of completes! integrity, of academic and wide intellectual brilliance, and, if written with his customary lucidity and regard for truth, will reveal his greatheartedness and human warmth.

—Ross Lascelles