Clifford was equally single minded about studying. “Coming out for a beer?” we’d ask. “Sorry mate, I’ve got to pound,” he’d reply. Pounding meant writing up lecture notes, reading textbooks or revising and perhaps sounded less bookish than “studying”. But although he was willing to forego a party, Clifford never missed his Aussie Rules obligations, whether for IH or the University team.

“Cliffo was a handy footballer,” Howard Ellis, no slouch himself, recalls. “He was a team player who loved to win and share the win with his mates. He was encouraging and supportive in adversity and revelled in a good, hard fought victory.”

But perhaps the late Sam Dimmick, Warden of International House in our time, had the most prescient assessment. In a reference he described Clifford as “a person of excellent character, popular with staff and his fellow students…” adding “he has the personality, I believe, which should ensure his success in industry.”

Were there any other clues to what the future would bring? Socially Clifford always seemed relaxed, friendly and approachable. He enjoyed a good joke and had that curiosity and lively interest in others that often characterizes successful people. He also stood out. Although we were studying completely different subjects – mining engineering and English – Clifford is one of perhaps half a dozen people from those times that I still remember very clearly.

Forty years later in London we had some catching up to do. By this time our telephone chat had developed into an interview for Review in Clifford’s Rio Tinto office, dominated by a fiercely coloured painting from the Australian Outback – a powerful reminder of his roots.

Before we started, ever the team player, he was keen to lay down some ground rules. “What I’m emphasizing,” he told me, “is that this organization is the result of a hell of a lot of people’s efforts throughout the globe.