Joe's passing feels quite significant for some reason. When I first started climbing it was, for me, all about having an adventure and a laugh. Hearing about the Rock and Ice racing their motorbikes to North Wales and doing wet new routes on Cloggy and bivvying in barns etc was nectar and I lapped it up. The game has changed a bit now (but I'd like to think that adventure and having a laugh are still integral parts for me), and the passing of the post-war era's leading protagonist feels somehow like the closing of a book for that sort of climbing and lifestyle.
Obviously people will still be inspired by what he and his contemporaries did, but it will soon pass beyond living memory and be seen in the same way as Haskett-Smith sloshing up a wet gully might be - the preserve only of history.
I looked through the list of Joe's 3 star grit routes and was struck by how many had shut me down. Saul's Crack on my first or second day of trad climbing and falling off The Mincer while seconding spring to mind. It never ceases to amaze me that climbing could ever become established enough to then grow into something that could be an Olympic pursuit, given how perilously bold and serious it used to be.