I was privileged and honored to work alongside Brian for more than 15 years. I had a front row seat to watch his innovation and determination profoundly transform and grow the Stimson Center. Brian was a true leader – with an incredible vision, an unending curiosity, and an indelible grit – forged in a belief that, together, we could find solutions to complex global challenges. What was especially striking about Brian’s leadership was his deep humility. He was always the first person to roll his sleeves up and try to do things that people said were too hard or too complicated (and often the first one in the office to unload the dishwasher). Brian’s indomitable spirit, his zest for life, and his genuine Canadian friendliness were abundant and contagious.  

Brian demonstrated the very best of Stimson’s ethos and culture. He was his colleagues’ biggest cheerleader and loved to shine a spotlight on other’s success – never taking credit for the work of the Center himself. Brian was the leader that the organization needed, the boss that one could only hope for, and the friend that most would have only dreamed of. I will miss him every day. 

There are a few special people in this world whose demeanor, presence, and energy are instantly recognized as remarkable. Brian Finlay was most certainly one of them. His boundless enthusiasm, his deep passion for doing the right thing and having positive impact, his genuine interest in truly listening to others and understanding them, and his profound commitment to and love for the Stimson Center and his family defined him every day.  

Over the years, I was so fortunate to work closely with Brian and develop a strong and meaningful friendship. Through challenges and success, stress and relief, uncertainty and clarity, our conversations and meetings were both work and pleasure. These interactions showcased Brian’s intelligence and savvy as well as his focus on learning and growing. Most importantly, he was always his authentic self while we talked through options, tradeoffs, and ultimately the best path forward. Success for him was the success for the people and institution he loved. His being was contagious in the best possible sense.  

Brian was taken from this world way too soon. But I will forever hold dear having the joy of partnering with someone whose character, personality and life views were so clear, so uplifting, and so inspiring.  

In his memory, we at Stimson will continue to thrive to make the world a better place.  

Onward Brian! 

Brian was larger than life: a person who brought out the best in those around him. 

Working so closely alongside him over the past three years gave me the privilege of witnessing his character every day. He was kind to the people around him, deeply dedicated to the organization he led, and genuinely committed to making a positive difference in an often challenging world. I hope his warmth, optimism, and generous approach to life will live on not only in our memories of him, but also as an example for all those whose lives he touched so deeply.  

Brian’s mentorship changed my life, and I will forever be grateful for the many lessons he taught me. A truly great man may have lost his battle with cancer, but there is no doubt that he won in the larger measure of life. His passing leaves an unfillable void, and his friendship will be profoundly missed. May the Stimson Center forever be a testament to his legacy. 

From the moment you met Brian, you knew you had encountered a rare spirit. His energy was magnetic, his enthusiasm was infectious, but it was his humility that set him apart from all other leaders in my career. In a city motivated by titles, ego, and one-upmanship, Brian never thought to be anything other than exactly who he was – gracious, decent, and true.

He saw greatness in his team and in this organization that few others might have thought possible. Like a sculptor looking at a piece of marble and seeing the potential within, Brian chiseled away at self-doubt and limitation to show us that excellence was always lying just below the surface, waiting for the leader we needed to unleash our full potential. I am privileged to have called Brian a leader, a boss, and a friend for the last several years. He will be deeply missed, and he will never be forgotten.

Brian was completely different from other think tank directors in my experience who sought to mold their institution to their own vision. Brian was more interested in helping

For twenty years, I heard Brian cry out my last name in greeting, usually followed by a firm handshake. We worked together from 2006 when Brian led on a project that eventually turned Stimson into the most  influential NGO voice on United Nations Security Council Resolution 1540 (2004). He often joined in my journey from the United Nations, to the State Department, to the Stimson Center, back to State, and back to Stimson. From the start, Brian’s good nature, enthusiasm, curiosity, humor, and competence made him and Stimson an easy partner and a friend. He got things done and still made time to dance at my wedding. Through the years, his other qualities became clearer to me as he took on more responsibility at Stimson. Sound ethics, compassion, the ability to inspire, and ego-less leadership that made space for all around him to flourish. He spoke – and listened – attentively to everyone. We all pass, but some of us have had the luck to take part of that journey with him, who made our lives and the world a better place.

Almost a decade ago, I walked into Brian Finlay’s office seeking a one-year fellowship. A couple hours later, I walked out as a director for a new environmental security program. It wasn’t the plan that day, but Brian was immediately engaging, thoughtful, and visionary; we clicked. He articulated how this new program would fit into Stimson’s security focus to improve the lives of people around the globe.

Brian was never stagnant; he constantly looked beyond the horizon, willing to try out new concepts which kept us ahead. This helped Stimson evolve when it faced new realities, whether changes in government, COVID, or the ups and downs of the global economy. He steered us on a steady course.

Not only was he a thought leader, Brian was a self-effacing, caring boss. He loved to banter with staff and knew everyone at the Center regardless of rank. He put the spotlight of success on others, providing credit to individuals and the Stimson team. A cheerleader to all, he would mix fun with work, through his tremendous sense of humor, and big heart,– a people’s person to the core.

That afternoon, many years ago, Brian’s enthusiasm was contagious as we batted ideas around, which led to one of the best decisions in my life. Today, our hearts are broken, but in Brian’s short life he provided us all with wings, and we will endeavor to carry his spirit and lessons forward. Goodnight, dear friend.

Brian,

It would be impossible to overstate how much I value the journey we shared. Throughout our relentless pursuit of meaningful, results-driven outcomes, I came to realize that the true reward was never simply the destination—it was the process itself. And you, my dear friend, made every step of that journey worthwhile.

I am thankful beyond words.

Every interaction we shared carried with it a laugh, an optimistic vision, a well-placed jab or two, and an unwavering commitment to making the world a better place. You brought energy, perspective, and purpose to every endeavor, and those around you were always better for it.

Through it all, you made me better, too.

Together, we celebrated far more victories than defeats. The work we accomplished, the lives we touched, and the friendships we forged stand as part of your enduring legacy. I will always be grateful for your friendship, your example, and the privilege of having shared this journey with you.

You will be deeply missed, fondly remembered, and forever appreciated.

I had the privilege of spending the summer of 2024 in Washington, DC, as a Visiting Fellow with the South Asia Program at the Stimson Center. One of my fondest memories of Brian captures exactly who he was.

My seven-year-old niece was visiting me and came to the office one day. Brian spotted her in the cafeteria and immediately greeted her with his trademark warmth: “Looks like we have a special guest here.” He took her to his office, gave her some candy, and spent time talking with her. He asked what she wanted to be when she grew up. Without hesitation, she replied, “I want to work at Stimson like my aunt.”

Brian smiled and said, “No, you should be the President of this place.”

That was Brian. He had an extraordinary ability to make people feel seen, valued, and capable of more than they imagined. Whether you had known him for years or only briefly, he left you feeling encouraged and uplifted. His warmth, generosity of spirit, and quiet leadership touched so many lives including mine.

I am grateful to have known him, even for a short time. The world has lost a truly kind and joyful soul far too soon. He will be deeply missed.

In a town full of outsized egos, Brian was the rare leader who didn’t take himself too seriously. He consistently put others first, using his position at the helm of Stimson to elevate colleagues across the organization rather than seeking the spotlight for himself. He had faith in those of us, like me, who were new to our roles and still finding our way, offering encouragement and a laugh in the moments we needed them most. When times got tough, there was no better feeling than knocking on Brian’s door and leaving his office knowing that the guy in the corner office had my back. It meant the world.

Just as important was the way Brian led by example to build the collaborative culture he so prized at Stimson. It was utterly unremarkable to see him moving tables to set up for an event when we were short-staffed, or doing the dishes when they started to stack up in the kitchen. He took time to get to know every one of us who worked under his leadership, and he never hesitated to poke fun at himself during Stimson’s wacky holiday celebrations.

I’m so grateful for the eight years I got to spend with Brian, and for the ways, big and small, in which his spirit will endure at Stimson and in those of us lucky enough to have known him.

Brian was the gentlest of giants.

He approached life with an open heart and generosity that made people feel seen, welcomed, and valued. He had a remarkable gift for presence. He would listen intently, laugh generously, and always land the well-timed joke. He was clever, curious, sincere, and wonderfully quirky.

I remember Brian as a colleague, a leader, a boss, and mostly, my buddy. We traded jokes, travel adventures, and good advice. We shared Canadianisms and an appreciation for Gary Larson. Since his passing, I find his laugh staying with me. Such a great laugh. From that height, it carried down Stimson hallways, bringing levity to the most mundane office moment. As a friend, his chuckle brightened difficult days and made the good ones even better.

I initially joined Stimson as a nonresident fellow in 2015, before moving to Stimson’s World Headquarters a year later. It was only the past couple of years that Brian and I began working on a project together exploring disruptive technologies and threat reduction – bringing us full circle to our roots at Canada’s foreign ministry. While technology wasn’t his strong suit (DLT is not a sandwich!), he had a talent for bringing people in for a common purpose. It will be an enduring legacy of meaningful work and friendship.

Safe journey, buddy.

The word that comes to mind when I think of Brian Finlay is ‘kindness’. He was one of the kindest people I have ever met. It radiated from deep within him. He treated everyone the same – no matter who you were, what you did, and where you were from. If someone was having a hard time, he wanted to reach out to them or buy them meals to help them through it. The first thing he would always ask when I met with him was, “You doing okay?”

I also appreciated his sense of humor when he laughed at my wrestling with my cat during video calls. I used to smile at him as he sauntered down the hallways, saying ‘hey, hey’ to everyone he came across.

My most cherished moment was during my first week at Stimson, when he told me he now sleeps at night knowing I am here. I am grateful that I could give him some peace.

Brian was a wonderful man – brilliant, compassionate, talented, creative, and so much more. I am fortunate to have worked with him.

Stimson members reach their full potential. In a sense, they would determine Stimson’s mission. Brian saw his role as facilitator and invited others who were more experienced like me to be mentors to the younger staff members. Having come from a different think tank, you can’t imagine how refreshing I found Brian and the environment at Stimson. A think tank director has to be all things to all people, but Brian appeared to be most comfortable in nourishing the next generation of leaders. I don’t think Brian ever knew how outstanding he was in that role.

Brian was a mentor, colleague, and a friend. We withstood many Mekong battles together, some won and some lost. I could trust that he always had my back in the fights worth fighting. He always moved with finesse, grace, and humor and made us all feel at home even during difficult times. I will deeply miss him. 

Stimson is the third think tank that I’ve worked for in Washington, DC, a career that has spanned across three decades. Every one of these places takes on the identity of its leaders. But Brian’s impact on this place, and the wider policy community, is really impossible to overstate. And I felt it the moment I arrived in September 2022. His optimism and positivity is reflected in everything that Stimson does. He was so passionate about this place, and our work. He made us all feel welcome and valued. He preached the importance of doing meaningful work, and of making the world a better place. I can’t think of a better legacy.

Brian was a giant – physically, professionally, and personally. He led by his example of boundless energy, creativity, and commitment to the cause of developing pragmatic solutions to difficult problems. His positive impact on our world will be felt for many years to come. I will always cherish his friendship and the lessons I learned at his side. Brian will be sorely missed.

Stimson is a really special community. For over a decade, that specialness was fostered and stewarded by Brian Finlay. Today, we mourn his passing and honor is legacy through memory.

I remember most the day I walked into his office, still a fairly intimidated early-career professional, to tell him I’d been diagnosed with cancer and would need to take some time for treatment. Nothing but compassion, support, and hope radiated from him as he offered me all the accommodation and community I would need.

Unyielding optimism and support in the face of adversity. That is what I will remember, and cherish, from my time working with Brian.

In my first days in Washington, I was overjoyed to be starting my new career but also a bit overwhelmed by the newness of the city and its culture. Brian Finlay demonstrated to me very quickly what kind of organization and Washington he wanted to create, warmly introducing himself to me even though he was the President and CEO while I was junior staff. In speaking with him for the first time, I discovered that he was and will likely remain one of the only people in Washington who knew exactly where my small Midwestern hometown was, and he shared fond memories about the town and his visits there. His ability to make me feel instantly at home at Stimson gave me encouragement to think that maybe Washington wasn’t nearly as bad as people said. Washington has certainly been a better place because of Brian Finlay, who was a truly decent man. His passing is a great loss for the international security community and for all those in Washington and all over the world who had the fortune to know him. May we all honor his memory by carrying forward his relentless pursuit for a safer and more stable world.

Brian Finlay was a man who inspired, who made us laugh with his Canadian humor, eh…, a man with the influential world view, who lifted any conversation to a better place, a man who was, and will always be, the Stimson brand ambassador, who believed so fervently in his colleagues, the institution, and its vital mission, a man who was so respected by so many, and who loved and was so proud of his family.

Rare is the opportunity to make a real difference in the world, to advance the cause of something bigger than ourselves. Brian Finlay’s fingerprints are all over Stimson. Traces of possibility, humility, graciousness, and integrity. Having Brian as a friend and colleague was my and our extraordinary gift.

We lost a true leader and a remarkable man today.

Brian stood tall – both literally and figuratively. He was the best boss I ever had – and I’ve had many over a half-century career in journalism and think-tankdom. He was fiercely protective of staff and of our intellectual independence even when faced with outside criticism and controversy, which is inevitable in our line of work. Brian was deeply immersed in the most important security issues of the day and endlessly curious. The respect he showed us gave us confidence to do our best work. My condolences to his family and fellow Stimsonites. I only wish I had known him longer. 

Though I worked with Brian for only two years, I was deeply touched by his passion for the work, his compassion for his colleagues, and his quiet decency as a human being. I had the privilege of getting to know Brian better while collaborating on a private roundtable around this time last year, and he gave everything he had to support our work. I will miss his boundless can-do spirit, and of course that wonderful laugh and his energetic stride through the hallways of the Stimson Center in the early hours of the morning. I will always carry with me his warm words of encouragement.

Brian Finlay is one of the greats. He made the room feel both brighter and lighter, which is not an easy thing to do in DC! A lot of leaders talk about the workplace as a family, but Brian made it feel real. He led with warmth, curiosity, and humility, none of which dulled his extraordinary sharpness. Working at Stimson with him at the helm was a gift – one I wish had lasted a lot longer.

The policy community lost a bright star this week. Brian Finlay was not only a respected scholar and leader, but he was a dear friend who I’ve had the privilege to know and work with for more than a decade. Even though he spent most of his time dedicated to issues of nonproliferation and transnational security, he was an optimist who had a knack for figuring out how to manage difficult problems. In fact, the Stimson Center’s success over the past decade speaks volumes about his entrepreneurial leadership skills. His ebullience had a way of rubbing off on the people around him, which was also one of the reasons that drew me to work for him just before his passing. He will be sorely missed by everyone who knew him. But even in his absence, I sense his continuing legacy and presence in the world that he helped to make safer and more hopeful. 

Working with Brian was always special, and not because he was a fellow Canuck. I first met him more than 15 years ago in New York, as he ably moderated a panel discussion at the UN with his signature sense of humor and grace. Even then, he made Stimson feel like somewhere people aspired to be. An extraordinary leader, mentor, and institution-builder, Brian created a unique and empowering work culture defined by genuine faith in his colleagues. He will be deeply missed and leaves behind a community of people who are better at what we do, because of him.

To our dearest friend and colleague Brian, you will be deeply missed by so many close friends and admirers near and far. Indeed, you’ve set a standard of excellence that will endure at our cherished and globally respected organization for many years to come. But most of all, I am thankful for how you always empowered and promoted us to be the best versions of ourselves, combined with our strong bonds of friendship and mutual respect … always elevated by your truly unique and endearing sense of humor. You took a risk and fully invested in so many of us “Stimsonites” and our out-of-the-box ideas over the years — and for this, we are all eternally grateful.   

Brian once blurted out – in a seemingly spontaneous way, but with a twinkle in his eye showing that he knew exactly what he was doing (as he always did) – at a major UNGA High-Level side event, in front of Maria Fernanda Espinosa and a large audience, that she “really needs to consider serving as our next UN Secretary-General.” Well, on the same very sad and unexpected day last month that we learned that we might soon lose our dear friend Brian, Maria announced her official candidacy. In the same spirit of the rich culture and, indeed, everything Brian had a hand in creating over his two dynamic and meaningful decades at Stimson (especially our shared strong sense of community and unflinching commitment to global peace with justice that he nurtured in all of us), we will see to it that Maria and her fellow candidates have the ideas and pathways to serve the United Nations at this critical time.  

In short, we will all aspire to honor Brian’s remarkable legacy by continuing to offer a thoughtful and rigorous “Stimson way” for advancing global cooperation, whatever the odds and obstacles may be … and with the continued optimism, humanity, and perseverance that Brian personified in his life’s work. Until we meet again, good friend…we love you, man, and are thinking of your incredible family at this difficult time of your passing. 

I am grateful to have been in Brian’s orbit, even just for a few years. What an immeasurably wonderful gift he was to so many — His sharp mind, his boundless energy, his kindness, and his confident, easy leadership. At the helm of the Stimson Center, Brian was steady, decisive, and thoughtful. He led with humility and grace and he will be so deeply missed. The work continues (onward, CG!), and we’ll do it in his name.

Brian was a remarkable human being, colleague, and friend. After many decades in and around the Washington political, policy, and diplomatic community, I thought I understood the possibilities and limitations of the work that goes on in this town. Brian proved otherwise. He was fiercely determined, always curious, never cynical, and always willing to push the boundaries and uncover the unspoken or unexamined.

When I came to Stimson, I was eager to meet him to gain a measure of the organization; he did not disappoint. He was enthusiastic, gracious, and eager to include me. He has left a lasting legacy not only in my outlook on the worth and value of what we do at Stimson but in how I can best target and pursue my goals. He will be deeply missed, but his legacy will live on inside each and every one of us.

It’s crazy to think back and realize we only knew each other for 8 years; Brian was that special sort of human who you felt like you had known your whole life. He went from colleague – I met him in his role as CEO at The Stimson Center when I joined his then-new Loomis Innovation Council – to friend pretty much on day one. For those who didn’t have the opportunity to have met him and have him in your life, Brian was the sort of person who absolutely lit up the room with energy and brilliance, where every conversation was thought provoking and made you think bigger and want to do more, where every conversation included joy and laughter, and who cared so deeply about making the world better and is one of those people who actually made it happen. It’s hard to realize there won’t be any more “Hey Bakhtian” notes and random reach-outs as we connected people and ideas. Finlay, you represented the best of humanity and joy and life. The world is a little dimmer today than it was yesterday without you in it, but the light you brought to so many whether they knew it or not won’t go out. We will carry your legacy on through Stimson, Loomis, and beyond.

One of my earliest memories of Brian comes from my interview with him at Stimson.

After what I hoped had been a successful interview, I somehow managed to become completely lost in the parking garage. Standing there, confused and more than a little embarrassed, I ran into Brian. Rather than simply pointing me in the right direction, he walked me to my floor.

At the time, it seemed like a small act of kindness. Looking back, I realize it captured something essential about who Brian was. As the leader of the organization, he had a remarkable ability to make people feel welcome, included, and valued.

In a way, that brief encounter became my introduction not just to Stimson but to the culture Brian worked so hard to create. His warmth, generosity, and positive energy shaped the institution and the people around him. Whether you were a senior leader, a new staff member, or a prospective employee trying to find your way out of a garage, Brian made time for you.

That is what I will remember most, and what I will miss.

Brian’s energy was infectious. His enthusiasm filled the room when he walked in, and he had a rare ability to immediately engage and elicit similar responses from anyone and everyone in both conversational check-ins as well as more substantive and formal dialogues. He was authentic in his curiosity and his desire to connect, regardless of your role or status.

I had the pleasure of interacting with him for more than 12 years, as I grew from an intern into a fellow and watched him grow first into the role of vice president and then president and CEO of the Stimson Center. Despite the burdens and demands that came with leadership of the Stimson Center, he remained approachable. He sought to connect with other people, and with new ideas and perspectives that could be brought to bear on shared challenges. This was true not just in regular discussions around the office but also when he joined our team on the ground, doing work in the Mekong, talking warmly with policymakers and local villagers alike.

He will be deeply missed. But his fingerprints remain on Stimson and on the individual lives of those with whom he worked, through the way that he inspired many of us to truly engage with others and to remain curious and adaptive in how we ask questions and pursue solutions.

I lost a friend this week.

I first met Brian at a gathering on international peace in Charleston, SC, just as the war in Ukraine was beginning. We were both speakers. He walked in, and I thought: That man looks more like a basketball player than a diplomat. He was tall, very tall, with the kind of presence that fills a space before you’ve even shaken hands. But then he smiled, and started talking, and he had me at hello. We became fast friends. Later, he asked me to join Stimson as a fellow — one of the honors of my professional life.

Whenever we met after that, there was that smile again — and his extraordinary generosity of spirit.

Others will write about his accomplishments. His career before Stimson, his leadership of the institution, the work he did to make the world a safer place. That record is remarkable and it deserves to be told.

What I want to write about is the man he was.

What I will remember is how every time we met he made me feel more hopeful, wiser and more passionate to create a better future than before we met. I will remember how his first greeting was always as sincere as that first meeting in Charleston.
Rest well, Brian. You made the world bigger just by being in it. And our world is smaller without you.

The world lost a great leader, and we are deeply saddened.

Brian took a chance on our North Africa, Mediterranean, and Sahel program when we moved from Johns Hopkins to Stimson — and that act of trust changed our trajectory. He gave so many of us the gift of meaningful work, not just through words, but by building the space and stability to do it.

His 21 years at Stimson will be felt for generations. We are committed to honoring his legacy by continuing the work he made possible.

I have read with great love the many tributes and memories your staff has shared about my brother, Brian. Thank you all for being an important part of his life and career. He was clearly an inspiration and a great friend to many. Many have noted Brian’s humility and friendliness. He had a special way of making everyone he engaged with feel like the most important person in the room. It was incredibly moving to read about all the ways he impacted the diverse work at Stimson. He truly loved the work he did and always spoke so highly of his colleagues and friends. He would, at times, become annoyed when I probed him with questions about what exactly he did. But that’s what brothers are for!

He created a beautiful life for himself and his family in Washington, and as others have mentioned was fiercely proud of his Canadian heritage. Although we lived far apart for many years, we made a point of remaining close. He will be missed more than he could have imagined by our extended family.

Thank you all for being such a vital part of his life and for all of your kind words. I wish all the continued success for the important work you do.