Treasury chief Ted Evans changed the nation in a selfless way

From quite a humble background (his father was a fitter and turner), Ted was educated at Ipswich High School. He became a linesman in the Postmaster General's Department (the PMG, later known as Telstra and Australia Post).

He began studying economics at the University of Queensland part-time. He won a scholarship to complete his degree and graduated with first class honours.

Ted joined the Department of the Treasury in 1968. I first met him when I joined Treasury a year later in 1969.

He made a major contribution in all areas of Treasury. He represented Treasury overseas at the International Monetary Fund in Washington, DC and the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development in Paris.

On his return to Australia from the IMF, Ted was appointed secretary of the Treasury in March 1993.

He joined the Westpac board in 2001 at my suggestion when I was Westpac CEO. He became chairman of Westpac in 2007 and retired in 2011.

He was made a companion of the Order of Australia in 1999 for his service to economic policy development.

Ted was at the centre of the golden age of economic policy reform in Australia in the 1980s and 1990s.

He was centrally involved in all of the major policy reforms that fundamentally changed the economic fabric of the nation. These involved: deregulation of the financial sector; the floating of the Australian dollar; broad ranging and fundamental tax reform; dismantling of tariff protection; major fiscal consolidation; central bank independence; and commitment to balanced budgets through the cycle.

He was respected and admired by all of the federal treasurers he served. Particularly Paul Keating, John Howard and Peter Costello.

Ted spoke truth to power. But in a way that was influential with politicians.

He was at the centre of a small extremely tight group in Treasury that saw Treasury rise to unprecedented power and influence in the 1980s. Chris Higgins was part of that cadre, as was I. The three of us were extremely close friends.

Ted also nurtured a group of the best and brightest within Treasury, including Ken Henry and Martin Parkinson, both of whom went on to become successful secretaries to the Treasury.

Ken, Martin and I farewelled Ted together in Canberra just days before his death.

Ted was highly intelligent, but he never flaunted his intelligence. On the contrary, he had great humility; and if anything, he underestimated his own ability.

He was a legendary hard worker, routinely working most nights and weekends. He was very focused on outcomes. Not on who could strap on the most ferocious hair shirt or lecture politicians on how weak kneed they were being.

He had a brutally honest view of current reality. He was intellectually honest. He never tugged his forelock to anyone.

He epitomised the values of integrity, trust, loyalty and humility.

Was Ted perfect? Or course he wasn't. And nor would he want this obituary to pretend he was. He had that streak of irresponsibility which - in the words of Graham Greene - is the mark of all rounded men.

On Friday nights, he and I would go out drinking heavily: first in Treasury; then on to the Hotel Canberra; then on to the National Press Club.

Our breakouts on the nights of the federal budget and the Treasury Christmas party were stupendous. The Treasurer's Press Club speech the day following the budget was one of the few tasks that we ever happily handed off to the Treasurers' private office.

Ted's dress sense was unfashionable to the point of being quite offensive. The brown suits; the extremely wide lapels; the flared trousers; the platform shoes; the garishly striped wide polyester ties. And he wore these for years after anyone could claim they were remotely fashionable or in remotely acceptable taste.

Ted introduced me to my wife of the past 37 years, Ros Kelly.

As my best man, he was driving me to my wedding.

Then he pulled over to the side of the road; opened two cans of Victoria Bitter beer; and asked me: "Are you sure you want to go through with this?". I responded: "Ted; it's a bit late for that. The wedding starts in 45 minutes".

He had a wicked sense of humour. He actually loved Ros.

There was some scepticism among some members of the Westpac board about appointing Ted as chairman. They were concerned about his close friendship with me, then CEO of Westpac.

"How would you feel about firing your mate, David?". Ted responded instantly, "If David needs to be fired, I will do so - personally and unhesitatingly".

That reflects nothing more than Ted's hard wired instinct to do whatever was the right thing, without fear or favour.

There is no one I've admired more in my professional life than Ted. No one outside my immediate family who has been a better friend.

Male friendships often get squeezed for the investment of time. That never mattered with Ted. Over more than 50 years, we simply picked up from where we had left off.

He was in every sense a truly great Australian: personally and professionally.

He changed fundamentally the economic fabric of this nation, in a wholly selfless way.

Ted is survived by his wife Judith; his son and daughter, Peter and Ann; his stepdaughters, Amanda and Toni and his grandchildren; Aisha, Mat, Riley, Molly and Jed.