At the time of writing, it feels like Ben is still here.
His email pops-up in Outlook’s auto suggest. He’s still in project groups on Teams. We’re developing and launching brands and campaigns that he started. Re-shaping brands that he helped to create years ago.
His doodles are still in his drawer. His face still smiles from our website. The books that used to inspire him are still in our studio. Every now and then there’s a gentle Derbyshire accent in exactly his tone, and it feels like a punch in the throat.
Because he isn’t here.
Let me wind back a little bit...
In August 2024 Ben went missing, and after 23 days searching and hoping, his body was found.
We planted an oak tree in his honour in the Derbyshire countryside. We held a celebration to honour his life. People came from across Europe. We needed a bigger room. People scrunched into the doorway to be there for him. To show him what he meant.
On the night we gathered to say goodbye, the Northern Lights blazed above Derbyshire. And somehow it felt like he was saying goodbye back.
Ben was the fiercest talent inside the gentlest man. A friend and colleague for almost 21 years. Fluid’s first employee.
This is our attempt to wrestle some words into some sort of tribute. It’s an impossible task, but it’s the least he deserves.
There are little bits of Ben all over the world. His ideas. His talent. His meticulous eye.
They’re in laboratories across Asia. On retail collateral across Australia. Throughout offices and exhibitions across Europe. Campaigns in India.
But it’s in Derbyshire where Ben’s presence is truly felt. It’s hard to imagine a more influential creative force. And hardly anyone would ever know.
He created the brand system for Derbyshire County Council. And the identity for the City Council. He created the wellbeing brands you’ll find across parks and sports centres. He was there when we branded the velodrome. And the University. He made a mark at his beloved Pride Park stadium. Our local theatre. He’s there too.
Ben never wanted attention. He’d prefer to quietly shift the credit to his colleagues instead. You won’t find him on social media. There are no personal showcases on LinkedIn. He didn’t care about any of that.
He loved design. Loved culture just as much. He loved being surrounded by people just as passionate and just as creative.
And that’s where he lives on.
He lives and breathes in the standards of his colleagues. In the team members he taught. In the belief he instilled in others. In the brands born and grown under his humble eye.
We miss his gentle bluntness when a project isn’t working. We miss his effortless instinct in the trickiest briefs. We miss his calm guidance with junior creatives. We miss the stories from his countless city breaks. We miss his stripy Derby County hat. We miss his quiet courage. We miss the fact that he’d turn-up with toothpaste on his face at least once a week. We miss someone that we knew and trusted. No matter what.
Someone described Ben as an oak tree in our agency. And that somehow sums him up beautifully. Strong. Quiet. Protective. Constant.
He was loved more than he’d have ever known.