RN17

VULNERBILITY &
A LIVABLE LIFE
Remembering Professor Pamela
Sue Anderson (1955-2017)
For the most part, 2017 has been a year of celebration,
when the College has welcomed the passage of sixty years
since it became a Permanent Private Hall of the
University of Oxford. In March, however, the year was
also tinged with sadness with the death of a much-loved
colleague, tutor and friend, Professor Pamela Sue
Anderson, after two years' living with cancer. In the
2016 edition of this magazine, Pamela wrote eloquently
about her most recent (and final) research into the
potential of choosing vulnerability in the pursuit of a fully
livable life. Whilst her article did not reflect on her final
illness, its argument that vulnerability ('openness to
affection') is something to be embraced seemed to be
imbued with a special power. Pamela spent many years
in Oxford, including as Tutorial Fellow in Philosophy at
Regent's Park from 2001, and to her colleagues and
students she embodied her own philosophy, exuding
passion, humanity, and a zest for life. This special feature,
drawing together contributions from those who knew and
worked with Pamela, celebrates her life and work, and
explains why she will be sorely missed. The first two
articles began as contributions from friends, Professor
Adrian Moore and Revd Dr Susan Durber, at Pamela's
Thanksgiving Service in the Chapel of Mansfield College
on 18 March; the third and fourth have been contributed
by colleagues who engaged with her work; and the fifth is
a reflection by the Principal who employed Pamela at
Regent's, Professor Paul Fiddes, on her contribution to
the Project for the Study of Love in Religion, of which he is
Director.
Pamela Sue's influence continues through her
Studentship for the Encouragement of the Place
of Women in Philosophy, which has been
generously supported by family, friends and
admirers, via 'www.campaign.ox.ac.uk'.
Pamela Anderson - or rather, Pamela Sue Anderson, as she
always preferred to be known (I think she was always
sensitive to how unfair the danger of confusion was on her
less illustrious and younger namesake) was a force of
nature. She was lively, funny, and intelligent. Indeed, she
was hyper-lively, hyper-funny, and hyper-intelligent: she
was hyper in every aspect of her being. It is always difficult,
when we have just lost a loved one, to believe that that
person is no longer with us. In Pam’s case, it is especially
difficult. Her very parting seems like a violation of some
natural law.
When I think of Pam, I cannot but think of her joy
of life. I literally cannot remember a single extended
conversation that we had, during the forty years or so that
we knew each other, that did not include smiles and
laughter, often raucous laughter. And I include the
conversations that we had when she was coming to terms
with the pain and sadness of the death of her partner, Paul.
For that matter, I include the conversations that we had
when she was coming to terms with the pain and sadness of
her own impending death, which she faced with
remarkable dignity and with inspiring fortitude. The last
two or three times that I talked with Pam, there were still
the same smiles; there was still that same laughter.
More often than not, when we were laughing
together, we were laughing at the silliest and most
inconsequential of things. I clearly remember one occasion
when we were travelling together on public transport and
disgraced ourselves, the tears streaming down our faces, as
we reflected on a bizarre mistake of predictive texting in a
message that she had sent to me earlier in the week. In
response to my question, whether she was able to
accompany me to some event at short notice, instead of
replying that she couldn’t because she had a graduate
student round helping her to proofread, she replied that
she couldn’t because she had a graduate student round
helping her to procreate! The hilarity, though never truly
malicious, was not always exactly kind either. Pam had an
incorrigibly sardonic view of human nature. She delighted
in people’s foibles, and could be merciless - albeit playfully
merciless - in exposing them.
But Pam was not just a delightful friend. She was of
course a significant academic, too. She had been a Fellow
of Regent’s Park College since 2001 and Professor of
Modern European Philosophy of Religion in Oxford since
2014. In 2009, she received an honorary degree from the
University of Lund in Sweden in recognition of her
outstanding work. That work ranged widely, but it always
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