Apple CEO Tim Cook Can’t Bring Himself To Delete Steve Jobs From His iPhone …

25 Mar 2015 | Author: | No comments yet »

5 Surprising Insights About Steve Jobs’s Management Style.

(CNN) — When Walter Isaacson’s biography of Steve Jobs came out in October 2011 — less than three weeks after Jobs’ death — it crystallized many popularly held perceptions of the Apple co-founder. The new book about Steve Jobs coming out on Wednesday is being positioned, with the active support of the people who now run Apple, as a more nuanced and accurate portrait of the entrepreneur than Walter Isaacson’s best-selling 2011 biography. The book aims to debunk the notion that the characteristics typically ascribed to Jobs—petulant, cruel, visionary—were static attributes, when in fact his evolution as a leader occurred over a lifetime. The Isaacson biography, simply titled , does a “tremendous disservice” to the late Apple co-founder, Cook said, adding that, “it didn’t capture the person.” A person, he continued, whom Cook sought to work with for many years. In a twist that Jobs surely would have found amusing, Isaacson’s “Steve Jobs” was an authorized work effectively commissioned by its subject, while Brent Schlender and Rick Tetzeli’s “Becoming Steve Jobs” started with Schlender unearthing a bunch of old notes and tapes of interviews with Jobs, with whom he had barely spoken for years.

The criticism for Walter Isaacson’s official biography, which was rushed to press following Jobs’ death in 2011, has flowed steadily from Apple’s inner-sanctum in the weeks preceding the new book’s release. Apple design chief Jony Ive similarly criticized the three-year-old book, saying that he’d only read parts of it, but that “my regard couldn’t be any lower,” The New York Times reported. Isaacson’s book contained numerous examples of Jobs’ cruel behavior, such as verbally abusing employees whose work didn’t meet his exacting standards. I’m friendly with all three authors, so the fact that I really enjoyed both books may not count for much, and I’m in no position to give a no-holds-barred critical review. According to the 400-plus-page profile, Jobs dropped a bomb on Disney chief Bob Iger only 30 minutes before they announced the $7.4 billion sale of Pixar to Disney: “My cancer is back.” “He says, ‘I’m telling you because I’m giving you a chance to back out of the deal,'” Iger says in the book. “He told me, ‘My kids don’t know.

More than anything, it sets out to show how Jobs grew over the years, becoming both a more effective CEO and, at least in some ways, a gentler person. Schlender’s and Tetzeli’s book is more of a business biography, much shorter than Isaacson’s, with the most careful attention paid to the years between Jobs’s ignominious departure from Apple in 1985 and his strange return in 1997 (it only became triumphal a few years later), when his main endeavors were unsuccessful computer-maker NeXT and successful-but-only-after-a-long-wait computer-animator Pixar. That last bit is debatable, but you could say this: The book convincingly traces a trajectory from a young man whose ego and monomania repeatedly thwarted his ambition to an older one who was occasionally a jerk but mostly just because he was burning to get things done.

Nobody knows, and you can’t tell anybody.'” Becoming Steve Jobs: The Evolution of a Reckless Upstart Into a Visionary Leader launches Tuesday, chock full of colorful tales and details about the icon’s life, including his less-than-sanitary response to Neil Young’s diplomatic overtures after their falling out, and, of course, the tale of Cook offering part of his liver to his ailing boss, an offer Jobs thanked Cook for but turned down. Before his marriage to Laurene Powell in 1991, Jobs’s personal life was pretty weird, so Isaacson’s book contains more than a few lurid and loopy tales. Isaacson also, in excerpting from his many long interviews with Jobs’s friends and colleagues (and former friends and former colleagues), gravitates toward the most shocking stories about Jobs’s behavior and the pithiest quotes about them.

Jobs died, Frog Design, which had risen to fame for its work on the early Apple computers, dedicated its entire home page to a farewell message: “Thanks for everything, Steve.” For 72 hours, nobody new to the site could find links to get deeper into it, let alone contact anybody or buy services. I once spent an entire day watching him run through multiple rehearsals of a single presentation, tweaking everything from the color and angle of certain spotlights, to editing and rearranging the order of the keynote presentation slides to improve his pacing. What was likely the last movie Jobs watched before his death was an odd choice: “Remember the Titans,” the sentimental Disney drama about a racially integrated high school football team in 1971. “I was so surprised he wanted to watch that movie,” Cook recalled. “I was like, ‘Are you sure?’ Steve was not interested in sports at all.” And Jobs’ famous commencement speech at Stanford University in 2005 almost got derailed before it started.

Schlender and Tetzeli don’t ignore the man’s dark side—the second-to-last chapter of their book is titled “Blind Spots, Grudges and Sharp Elbows”—but they compartmentalize it more than Isaacson does. In one instance that day, he just sat silently onstage with his chin in his hand, staring at the floor for nearly 15 minutes, out of frustration with a wrong lighting cue. His extended exposure to Jobs through his “wilderness” years and subsequent return to Apple informs the thesis of the book: The common formulation of Jobs as equal parts genius and asshole is simplistic. Even before that stage, he would call journalists like me or Steven Levy who wrote for Newsweek and later Wired, to try out metaphors and lines he was thinking about using, just to see if we thought they resonated. Helping others fosters our emotional engagement with the world and lets us connect with something greater than ourselves,” he writes in his book The Business Romantic.

It’s that Isaacson, whose interactions with Jobs were mostly confined to the last few years of the man’s life, necessarily sees that life through the lens of the middle-aged Jobs—and that Jobs didn’t see himself as dramatically changed from the guy who co-founded Apple at age 21. The original Romantic period traces back to the early 1800s, and icons like Lord Byron, Percy Shelley, Mary Shelley, and Jean-Jacques Rousseau, the latter once replying to uber-rationalist René Descartes with the comment “I felt before I thought.” For them, subjective experience was more important than objective truth.

They compare his impetuousness in negotiating with IBM when he was CEO of NeXT, for instance, to how deftly he sold AT&T on the benefits of signing an exclusive deal to carry the first iPhone, sight unseen, as Apple’s CEO years later. Leberecht says vestiges of that era remain today in the craze for dashing vampires like Robert Pattison, star of the Twilight movies, and coolly rational rebels like Edward Snowden. He had always listened to them and often changed his mind, but in the early years he tended to infuriate those who disagreed with him by parroting their arguments back to them a few days later as if they were his own.

As an example, the book points to how Jobs abandoned his initial enthusiasm for iMovie and consumer video editing when his executives urged that music would be a more popular play. Famous figures tend to fall into one camp or another. “If James Bond is romantic, then the whip-smart deductive reasoning of Sherlock Holmes is not; Humphrey Bogart clearly Byronic; Tom Cruise not so much. In business, you can argue that Virgin founder Sir Richard Branson or Apple’s Steve Jobs are romantic heroes while leaders such as Bill Gates, Warren Buffett or GE’s Jeffrey Immelt decidedly are not.

By extension, any figure that stands apart from society, characterized by an aura of mystery and brooding emotion rather than lucidity and rational articulation, belongs in the family of romantic heroes,” he writes. I don’t think Jobs’s management genius can be distilled to a couple of bullet points (when Isaacson tried for a Harvard Business Review article, he ended up with 14), but there are two things that stick in my mind after consuming 1,000-plus pages on Jobs.

Steve and the director would just go on a walk together, and Steve would lay out—in his own, unvarnished, crystal-clear way—exactly where the movie had gone off the tracks. One is the notion of strong opinions, weakly held, derived from Bayesian statistics and recommended by both futurists and investors as the best way to make decisions in an uncertain world. This is one of the complexities of Steve’s criticism—it could injure those who didn’t know him well, but it could be extremely valuable to those who did know him well. I think that a lot of people look at Jobs and think being headstrong is the way to go, but they haven’t understood the subtleties of his management skills. We hear how Jobs not only described OS X’s visuals as “lickable,” but, at least on one occasion, actually licked a computer screen to get the point across.

We also read that Jobs told Disney President Bob Iger his cancer had returned in January 2006, literally moments before they were to tell Pixar employees about the company’s sale to Disney. He encourages people “to have a romantic view of business, to act differently, but, first and foremost, to see, feel, and be different.” Perhaps fittingly, the path he outlines is fuzzy. Steve’s management style was very much in keeping with who he was, and that should probably be the first thing a manager asks himself—am I posing, or is this really me? Yes, there is a funny moment in the Schlender-Tetzeli book where Catmull overhears Jobs calling his friend Larry Ellison (Oracle’s co-founder and a billionaire many times over) on the day of the Pixar initial public offering (IPO) that made him a billionaire for the first time—“Hello, Larry?” Jobs said. “I made it.” But it was what his companies created that mattered most to him. As he recalls telling Jobs, “We’re buying Pixar, we’re not buying you.” Schlender writes the book in the first-person, but Becoming Steve Jobs is filled with the voices of colleagues and friends close to Jobs.

He was capable of quickly abandoning people—even long-time friends—whom he no longer thought could help Apple or his other companies achieve their goals. After initially rebuffing the Schlender and Tetzeli’s overtures, Apple executives eventually agreed to be interviewed, and the book quotes at length from conversations with Cook, Cue, Ive and others.

Ron Johnson, the former Target VP of merchandising brought in to shape Apple’s retail stores, offers evidence of Jobs’ eagerness to delegate during Apple’s most prolific period. When Cook made the offer at Jobs’s bedside, the response was “No, I’ll never let you do that.” To Cook, this was evidence of the “tremendous disservice” that Isaacson had done in portraying Jobs as a “greedy, selfish egomaniac.” Somebody that’s selfish doesn’t reply like that. There’s a certain snobbishness and elitism to this notion, but the second time around at Apple, Steve rarely failed to live up to the high standards he set for himself and others. He was more open to the talent of others.” The book, which spends considerable time on Jobs’ involvement with the animation company, gives a clear impression that Pixar was Steve Jobs’ happy place. Near the end of the book, Jony Ive offers an interesting take on what Apple’s eventual success really meant to his mentor. “I think Steve felt a vindication.

Steve Jobs was always driven, often to the point of callousness to those around him, but as he got older, his ego was less and less a part of that equation. Nor do its writers; at one point, Schlender admits he’d “gotten close enough to Steve to see beyond his harshness and the occasional outright rudeness to the idealist within.” To some, presumably like Cook and Ive, this will make the biography a richer, more considered portrait than previous books.

Eyal Winter, a professor of economics and director of the Center for the Study of Rationality at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, argues that our emotions are more rational than we think in Feeling Smart (Public Affairs, 262 pages, $30). Consultant Phil Simon looks at how business communication is broken and how to fix it – including how to cleanse the business jargon from your communications – in Message Not Received (Wiley, 236 pages, $42).

Here you can write a commentary on the recording "Apple CEO Tim Cook Can’t Bring Himself To Delete Steve Jobs From His iPhone …".

* Required fields
All the reviews are moderated.
Our partners
Follow us
Contact us
Our contacts

ICQ: 423360519

About this site