The man who dent the universe has died. From the ubiquitous tribulations flooding the news, it's clear that Steve Jobs did make a difference in people's lives. That somewhat sententious sentiment befits this man who essentially changed the way we view technology.
Earlier this year, I finally bought my first iPhone—joining millions of users who queued up since the market-changing mobile device first debuted in 2007—and was immediately smitten with its sleek design and tactile interface. With browser, phone and email capabilities, I am no longer tethered to my desktop computer, and have also figured out how to download podcasts of my favorite shows. That's me laughing on the elliptical at the gym, listening to CarTalk through the telltale white earbuds.
I also bought the white keyboard for my home computer. Its low-slung, perfectly proportioned design is a pleasure to type on. Both of these products were packaged beautifully with succinct instructions and a dearth of distracting ink. I was loath to toss the keyboard box—with its virtual expanse of pristine whiteness—and still can't bring myself to part with the iPhone's cunningly crafted container.
Unwrapping an Apple product is just part of the overall sensory experience which begins with compelling adverts, continues through stunning Apple stores, and concludes with satisfying product interaction. It turns out, unsurprisingly, that Steve Jobs' input figured into every facet of the creative process.
When first unveiling his flagship Apple store in New York, Jobs waxed enthusiastic to the editor of PC World about the exact origin of the Italian Carerra marble. A friend who's directed the construction of each Apple store often speaks about the high-end materials and customized fixtures gathered from around the world to create the sleekly contemporary edifices.
Jobs' aesthetic predilections were evinced early on. I can wrap my creative efforts in a plethora of fonts, all because of Job's early insistence that font choice be an integral part of word processing. His love of fontography serendipitously emanated from a college calligraphy class.
I had lunch today in Palm Springs with "my Dutch guys"—Walther Kloet, an Amsterdam architect, and his partner, Robert, who own a mid-century vacation home here in the desert—and the subject of Jobs naturally arose since the world travelers are sophisticated computer users. They were actually shopping in the Santa Monica Apple store when the sad news broke and Jobs' visage appeared simultaneously on every display. The two had visited the company's Convent Garden venue—a cavernous space replete with customers shopping and sampling. Describing the aura of reverence, Walther noted astutely that "it was almost like a church."
My husband, Kirk, and I have long been Apple afficionados, going back to the original Macintosh with its smiley icon and intuitive interface. I was fortunate to work for the company in their Public Relations department, first in the late '80s and then again in the mid '90s. Unfortunately, Jobs had already left the company during my tenure and the organization plodded along under the earnest, but uninspired, leadership of first Sculley (who had been brought on by Jobs himself) and then Spindler. Amelio—with his post-Apple agologia—followed before Jobs was wisely reinstated.
I remember a co-worker describing her one interaction with the acerbic Jobs before he was ignominiously booted out of his own company. "What the hell do you do here?" he barked upon entering the occupied elevator. As an ex-cop, she was unruffled by his abrasiveness and stood her ground. When I recounted that memory to Kirk today, he remarked that it was a good thing I hadn't personally encountered the founder since I would have been completely unnerved. Too right.
Apple made insanely great computers, revenue-per-employee was huge, users were uniformly smitten, but Apple couldn't seem to gain serious market traction in penetrating the vast swath of corporate America. I have never been able to get my head around that dichotomy. It may have been the Apple name and then the prohibitive pricing that derailed mass conversion.
I admit to being one of the slightly supercilious people who pitied those who couldn't, or wouldn't, buy a Mac. To this day, I am still bemused by the fact that too many PC users still don't grasp basic computer concepts and endure file-littered desktops.
Jobs didn't waste time on such disdain. Once back at the helm in 1997, he looked beyond desktop computing to pursue other promising technologies, starting with his passion for music. He created the digital music delivery model with iTunes and the iPod. All of a sudden, everybody wanted an Apple product. With the advent of the iMac, iPhone and iPad, a global audience has implicitly endorsed the Apple operating system as well.
In paying tribute to Jobs' achievements this week, some commentators—including personal favorites Thom Hartmann and Robert Scheer—noted that Steve hadn't invented Apple's compelling products so much as brilliantly marketed them. I mentioned these belittlements while reminiscing with my girlfriend, Stacy Williams, a whip-smart high-tech consultant for the past 20 years who also did a stint at Apple in the early '90s and still writes for the iconic company.
She vividly recalls hearing a visiting Jobs speak at Apple in 1991. He'd heard such disclaimers for years in the '80s, even from his own employees who fretted about being derivative or copy cats. "Creativity is just connecting things," Stacy remembers him saying. "I found that to be such a freeing statement," she adds, and has tried to incorporate his philosophy into her own creative efforts ever since.
Jobs' pithy expression must have distilled a strong belief since he was expounding years later on it in a Wired magazine piece from 1999. Elaborating on the arcane creative process, he said that creative people often feel guilty because "they didn't really do it; they just saw something. It seemed obvious to them after a while. That's because they were able to connect experiences they've had and synthesize new things. And the reason they were able to do that was that they've had more experiences or they have thought more about their experiences than other people."
Eating dinner alfresco these past few days, Kirk and I listened to music courtesy of Pandora and my iPhone. I'm writing this blog with the assistance of my Apple keyboard and trusted Mac Mini (which graciously allows me to keep one foot in the Windows world). The blog photos of a nascent Apple-store shrine to Jobs at the Palm Desert store on El Paseo were snapped with my iPhone.
I know there are lots of Apple products in my future even if I'll never be as wired as Gen X, Y or Z.
So, I thank you, Steve Jobs, for your prescience, perspicacity and persistence!
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