I think some small part of my mind has been in a subconscious state of wince, waiting for the inevitable headline anouncing his death.
Now it’s come, I feel a selfish sort of sadness.
Someone who I never met, whose books and articles I regularly bought and read, who positively influenced the way I interpreted the world (even when I disagreed with him), who I never thanked directly, is now dead.
I wish he could have lived longer, for my benefit, for societies benefit, and (most importantly) for that of his family and true friends.