The obituary of Jean-Claude Nicolet, first prix Gaïa winner

I had occasion to write about him several times. And each time I was surprised at the lack of space dedicated to him in the media. He was a man of superior intellect, humble and religious, blessed with the kind of common sense one finds in the free-spirited, rugged mountain dwellers of the canton of Neuchâtel, I took every opportunity I could to quote him, to sing his praises. I even managed to persuade him to take part in a photo shoot, although he was by nature camera-shy. The sensitive-eyed photographer, Grégory Maillot, fell completely under his spell and succeeded in rendering a true, authentic profile of the man. Not so much a shoot as a personal exchange.

Jean-Claude Nicolet rarely spoke of his academic accomplishments, even though his bibliography is considered a cornerstone of watchmaking expertise and its teaching. Naturally he wrote about time, his work La Pendulerie remains the leading reference on the subject. But, he also wrote about his years with Miettes de Vie, as well as Calvin, another of his passions, and the transcription into modern French of his Traité des Scandales. Sometimes, he presented me with a manuscript, the result of an on-going train of thought, or a sermon (he preached in his local church), or perhaps the beginnings of a book. It was thus I once found myself in possession of the text for a conference he had given on Ferdinand Berthoud at the MIH (La Chaux-de-Fonds International Watch Museum), which was published on Watchonista in 2 instalments, parts 1 and  2. He had suddenly expressed astonishment at his lack of fame compared to other names of the same period. As was his nature, he stepped up to the plate and proceeded to 'set the record straight'.

"Throughout my 5 years in the watchmaking industry and 37 years in education, I have always been a tracker of time. I have attempted to harness it in timepieces (chronometers), measure it using chronographs, or master it with the aid of regulators. Sadly, in this last case I lost the battle; time has remained unchanged, but it has left its mark on me in the form of age. I still have no idea what time is. I only know that two events can happen simultaneously or successively. When they happen successively, time is said to have elapsed. That's true, but what is time? A fat candle lit at night is almost out by the morning. Time, therefore, takes its toll. Time makes us old, but does it make us wise? But, above all, does time exist? I have never met time. None of my faculties sense time. I can't see it, I can't hear it. It is odourless, colourless, as flavourless as water and yet, like water, it flows. Invisible, intangible time is destroying me. I am dying with each passing hour and the last one will kill me. I'm not too worried about it, the last hour that kills is also the one that will carry me into an eternal bliss, unknown but not unexpected".