John Barton ’68 was a kind and gentle man whose contributions cannot be measured by the enumeration of his accomplishments and publications, many and impressive though they were.

Barton, seated profile to the camera, reads a book in front a large, filled bookshelf.
John H. Barton ’68 in his office at the law school

In the fall of 1978, he was my first-year law school “small section” professor, teaching me Contracts. He cared a great deal about teaching, and I have many vivid memories of the gentle way in which he made sure everyone in the section understood the principles he was explaining. He opened up for me a whole new way of thinking about the interaction of people in business settings—from the personal to the global transaction to how expectations are set and what the law can and cannot do for those who are unhappy with the way their transactions worked out. He forced us every day to stand in the shoes of the parties involved in the cases we read. And he had one funny habit, too: He liked to press his hand against his lips while waiting for a student to give an answer. Since we had chalk and blackboards in those days, by the end of each class he inevitably had a bright white vertical stripe on his mouth.

Earlier he had made a big mid-career switch from engineer to law teacher, and his interests in things that were real and measurable always played an active role in his approach to the more abstract legal issues we dealt with. In recent years, I’ve sat with him at dinners at Stanford’s Center for International Security and Cooperation and at law school functions, where we had the chance to chat about patents and other intellectual property issues he was working on—interests he took up later in life. Dean Larry Kramer told me that Professor Barton had thoroughly reengaged at the law school and was often in his office doing research. He had original ideas about how to sort out current issues, and he understood some of the problems I was addressing in my work and offered me very cogent questions for consideration. His thinking was aimed toward understanding the practical—to make sure his theories would have real-world relevance. In many ways, he’s a symbol of what Stanford Law School means to me. He was a very practical man, without ego, eager to teach, eager to learn, and tied to the real world through an understanding of the realms of science and engineering. There was nothing about this man that is not to be admired and emulated.

Professor Barton passed away unexpectedly in August after a tragic bicycle accident. Mark Chandler ’81 is senior vice president, general counsel, and secretary of Cisco.