The Quiet Power of Presence: In Memory of Professor Joseph Nye

​It’s not often that a single conversation can leave a lasting imprint on both heart and intellect. But that’s exactly what happened when I sat with Professor Joseph Nye just a week before his passing. He welcomed me with warmth and sparkling eyes—no sign of ego, no barrier of stature—just the grace of a man who had spent a lifetime thinking deeply about the world and caring even more deeply about the people in it.
I came to him with questions—about soft power, about current affairs, about America’s shifting role in the international order. True to form, Professor Nye responded not with lectures, but with curiosity. He turned the conversation toward me. When did I first live abroad? What did my late father think about it? How do I see the rise of Saudi women as a source of soft power?
In that moment, theory met reality. Professor Nye spoke about how the empowerment of women in Saudi Arabia could serve as one of the country’s most compelling soft power assets. Not because it was strategic—but because it was real. Authenticity, he reminded me, is the currency of influence. Without it, even the most sophisticated campaigns ring hollow. With it, a single story—lived with courage—can shift perceptions, bridge cultures, and move nations.
What struck me most was how seamlessly he blended global vision with intimate attention. He asked about my family, my husband, my children—how I manage to balance motherhood with public leadership. It wasn’t performative; it was deeply human. I left the conversation feeling not only heard, but believed in.
The next day, he invited me to an event as his guest. He had reserved a seat next to him at the roundtable. When I whispered, “I’m deeply privileged to sit beside you,” he turned to me with that same generous spirit and said, “I am also very privileged to know you and sit beside you.” He then introduced me to others—eminent scholars and practitioners—saying, “I’d like you to meet Noura. I’m very impressed by her.”
That was Joe Nye.
The man who coined soft power didn’t just theorize it—he lived it. He taught us that influence isn’t always exerted from podiums or platforms. Sometimes, it’s embodied in the way you make someone feel seen, heard, and valued. That, too, is power. Perhaps the most enduring kind.
As a scholar, Nye’s contributions are staggering. His articulation of soft power reshaped the study of international relations, challenging us to reconsider the instruments of global influence—not only through military might and economic leverage, but through narrative, norms, and the quiet power of credibility. His work on “smart power,” balancing hard and soft approaches, remains vital in navigating today’s strategic complexities. He was also among the first to explore the geopolitical implications of emerging technologies like artificial intelligence, understanding that the future of power lies not only in might, but in meaning.
And yet, in the face of all that, he remained radically humble. He once wrote, “The mark of a great power is not just how it behaves, but how it is perceived.” By that measure, he was a great power in himself—perceived not only as brilliant, but as kind. Not only as influential, but as generous.
Professor Nye’s passing leaves a profound void. But his legacy lives in those of us who were fortunate enough to encounter him—not only in his books and lectures, but in those quiet moments when he chose to make others feel larger than life. He reminded me, in the most personal way, that the softest gestures often carry the greatest strength.Professor Nye’s passing leaves a profound void. But his legacy endures—in the ideas he pioneered, in the institutions he shaped, and most meaningfully, in the lives he touched with quiet dignity.
In our final encounter, he reminded me that power doesn’t always announce itself. Sometimes, it shows up in a warm question, a thoughtful gesture, a seat saved at the table. That’s the kind of power that lingers—long after the titles fade and the lectures end.
I will carry his quiet strength with me, wherever my path leads next.