In his Stanford commencement address, Steve Jobs told us that “Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new.”
Last Thursday, the day after I heard the news that he had passed away, I was in a funk. I don’t believe I have ever felt that way about the death of somebody I have never met. I’m not one to get very emotional about celebrities. I’ve read many other responses that have expressed the same sentiment. So what is it about the man that made such an emotional impact on me?
I’ve been using a Macintosh as my tool of trade nigh on twenty years. More than most, the field of Graphic Design was fundamentally changed by the Macintosh, due in no small part to a calligraphy class Steve took after dropping out of college. I was in my formative undergrad years during the tail end of the turmoil it caused. I never had to do paste-ups, but I used guache, Vac-U-Mount, and a Photostat enough to have some appreciation for the technological revolution that had occurred. I sit in front of a Mac all day. I’m as fluent in the Mac OS as I am in American English. It has made my daily job more enjoyable and more productive than it possibly could have been otherwise. The thought of having to spend that kind of time with Windows makes me feel sick, and there was one year in particular that I was threatened with that nightmare. I would have left my job if the issue had been forced.
In addition to my work life, it has improved my personal life. Even when I’m home, I spend much of my time sitting at my Mac Pro, color-correcting photos, editing video, working on my church’s website, prepping for my class, playing games, and writing entries for DesignAday. I use the iWork and iLife suites daily while listening to music from the iTunes store. When I’m in my living room or kitchen, there’s the AppleTV, playing podcasts or family photos and music. Everywhere else, I have my iPhone. It’s with me everywhere I go. I found the Palm Pilot extremely useful. I despised my Treo. I love my iPhone. Apple’s products, both hardware and software, have been a very important part of my life, but considering all of it, I don’t think that is at the root of my melancholy.
Steve’s return to Apple occurred while I was a graduate student at CMU. Those were the most influential two years of my life. I was already a Macintosh user, but I wasn’t yet steeped in the history of Apple. I still vividly recall the day in 1998 that the original iMac was announced. I was sitting at my desk in the “Roundroom” of Margaret Morrison, the building in which the School of Design resides. When the Bondi Blue computer finished loading in my browser, I just said “Wow!” The exclamation was repeated when my classmates came around to see what I was looking at. That was just the beginning of a long love affair with Apple’s innovative product design.
Steve Jobs became a beacon for me, proof that good design could triumph in the battle with time-to-market and ease of implementation. Every time somebody repeated the mantra that “perfection is the enemy of good enough,” I could point to Apple as an example of a successful company that didn’t settle. They helped to turn our profession from something that our moms didn’t understand, to one that is recognized by the consumer conscious. It became a skill set that every major technology company had to have. Apple products were cited as examples of great design everywhere such discussions were raised. Steve was the enabler—the CEO that got it—that understood the power of design and made it a priority. Time after time, he proved that attention to detail, quality of materials, and a focus on the user experience were important to the goals of the business. He was a hero to every designer that was trying to make their customers and employers understand the importance of good design.
The real tragedy is that he should have had another fourteen productive years. Fourteen years—that’s how long it took to pull Apple back from the brink; produce the iMac, iBook, iPod, iPhone, iPad, and MacBook Air; roll out OS X, iTunes, and the Apple Store, and all of the other smaller, yet still important products that went along with them. What magic would he have worked given that much time again? I feel that I have been robbed of something amazing I’ll never know, much the same as I’ve missed the brilliance of Jim Henson, another genius taken before his time.
But what if Steve was right? What if death was just doing it’s job, clearing out the old to make way for the new? I’d argue he wasn’t old enough, but let’s just say death knows what it’s doing. Is it at all possible that Steve’s shadow was holding the rest of us back? You would have a hard time convincing me of it, but it’s really a moot point. Steve is gone, and that means somebody else has to take the ball and run. I read a tweet last week exhorting us to go into work and turn the place upside down in Steve’s honor. I appreciate the author’s inspiration, but it’s completely unrealistic. If you haven’t been pushing with Steve’s passion and ferociousness before, are you really going to completely change now? Even if you could, who would support your actions?
No, trying to become like Steve at the snap of your fingers isn’t likely to work. In fact, trying to become like Steve isn’t likely to work at all. But what we can do is work hard to reach the pinnacle where we can become the enablers. Maybe that is a position of leadership in your current company. Maybe it is in a company that you will start yourself. It may not be associated with a company at all. Take inspiration from Steve Jobs, from Apple, and from others like them. Be passionate about your work. Stand for what you believe in. Do what you can to make a difference in the lives of others. Pass on what you have learned. Make your own ding in the universe. I can think of no better way to honor a man that has been such an inspiration to so many.