From Katharina Bernhard
Katherine was my PhD supervisor — at least for a while. I am not as well placed to talk about her as so many others are who knew her so much better and for so much longer. But the time I did have her as my supervisor was at least enough to understand that Katherine really was “the rarest sort of person” (Alexander Douglas). I think us students of Katherine’s, we were utterly spoiled. She was brilliant, but she was also kind and generous and empathetic and understanding and incredibly considerate in guiding us in our projects. She reliably spotted out weaknesses and strengths and, accordingly, used very different approaches to get us each on track. She would read my slides or quirky ideas. She suggested we read a book together that would help my project and she read a crucial paper for my project that she wasn’t familiar with to better understand the angle I was coming from. She would always convey the feeling that we would figure it out together, no doubt. Katherine was someone one could confide in completely. [How fitting her work on trust and trustworthiness is!] She saw an opportunity for cooperation where others see competition, she saw human beings where others see mere agents. This is not to say that other philosophers and supervisors aren’t any of these things or wouldn’t believe or do any of these things. The point is that Katherine combined *all* of it and there was something about the way she went about all of this that was indeed rare.
In the days immediately after her death her former students too were overwhelmed, as surely everyone who knew her was. We knew Katherine would not get better, but her death still hit us – hard. So we met up online. That sense of community and mutual support is surely something Katherine would have approved of. It did good to share stories about Katherine and to simply cry together (even if only vis-a-vis a screen). Interestingly, in all those stories, we tried to pinpoint just what made Katherine so unique. Each of our attempts (that she was exceptionally generous, kind, morally wise, empathetic, somehow whole in her being …) didn’t quite hit the bull’s eye. It took me a while to understand that none of them could – in isolation. Taken together, however, you might get an idea.
I remember Katherine looking out of the window in her office. She had a particular way of doing that and it was a reliable signal for supervision getting serious – you could literally see her think! I also remember how disarming supervision discussions were. Not because Katherine always won (she easily could have, of course), but because she wasn’t armed. Actually, she didn’t make it a fight at all. In parts she was helping you to figure something out yourself (that in hindsight I’m sure she had figured out already). In parts it was a genuine collective endeavour to understand something and to try out arguments, where, naturally, even the thoughts and arguments she improvised on the spot were golden. (She probably would have strongly objected to the golden-bit.) I believe that this approach of engaging with philosophy and other philosophical positions is present in much of her writing and it is in parts what makes it so brilliant.
I’m ashamed to say that I did not know how to not fight during supervisions. I still don’t. The supervisions with her stopped before I had a chance to figure it out. There was so much to learn from Katherine. This clearly is one of those things.
It is some time ago now that we stopped with supervisions. It’s difficult to make sense of what that meant for this particular student and her project. I’ve given up trying.
I had decided to under no circumstances involve Katherine after her leave in my (comparably so irrelevant) PhD struggles. But I was fortunate enough to not lose any and all contact with her, especially during the beginning of the pandemic. And later on too, we would briefly chat every now and then when bumping into each other on our walks. It was always good to see her because it meant that she was still around and that she felt well enough to walk or attend an academic event online or chat – at least on that day.
I will remember Katherine looking out of that office window and for her unique way of creating a climate of calmness and cooperation just by being there and doing her thing. And I will remember her for always having that one good question in Q&As that would turn a hostile environment into a friendly and productive one. Oh, and for the most accurate yet funny way of referring to bread-stealing gulls by means of emojis: the eagle-pidgins ()! (If you never lived in an area with groceries stealing gangs of gulls, the joke is not for you, apologies.)
My thoughts are with all those who lost her, but primarily of course with Jon, the twins and her close family and friends.