Start With Why (28 page)

Steve Wozniak and Steve Jobs came of age in this time. Not only was the revolutionary spirit running high in Northern California, but it was also the time and place of the computer revolution. And in this technology they saw the opportunity to start their own revolution. “The Apple gave an individual the power to do the same things as any company,” Wozniak recounts. “For the first time ever, one person could take on a corporation simply because they had the ability to use the technology.” Wozniak engineered the Apple I and later the Apple II to be simple enough for people to harness the power of the technology. Jobs knew how to sell it. Thus was born Apple Computer. A company with a purpose—to give the individual to power to stand up to established power. To empower the dreamers and the idealists to challenge the status quo and succeed. But their cause, their WHY, started long before Apple was born.

In 1971, working out of Wozniak’s dorm room at UC Berkeley, the two Steves made something they called the Blue Box. Their little device hacked the phone system to give people the ability to avoid paying long-distance rates on their phone bills. Apple computers didn’t exist yet, but Jobs and Woz were already challenging a Big Brother–type power, in this case Ma Bell, American Telephone and Telegraph, the monopoly phone company. Technically, what the Blue Box did was illegal, and with no desire to challenge power by breaking the law, Jobs and Woz never actually used the device themselves. But they liked the idea of giving other individuals the ability to avoid having to play by the rules of monopolistic forces, a theme that would repeat many more times in Apple’s future.

On April 1, 1976, they repeated their pattern again. They took on the giants of the computer industry, most notably Big Blue, IBM. Before the Apple, computing still meant using a punch card to give instructions to a huge mainframe squirreled away in a computer center somewhere. IBM targeted their technology to corporations and not, as Apple intended, as a tool for individuals to target corporations. With clarity of purpose and amazing discipline, Apple Computer’s success seemed to follow the Law of Diffusion almost by design. In its first year in business, the company sold $1 million worth of computers to those who believed what they believed. By year two, they had sold $10 million worth. By their third year in business they were a $100 million company, and they attained billion-dollar status within only six years.

Already a household name, in 1984 Apple launched the Macintosh with their famed “1984” commercial that aired during the Super Bowl. Directed by Ridley Scott, famed director of cult classics like
Blade Runner
, the commercial also changed the course of the advertising industry. The first “Super Bowl commercial,” it ushered in the annual tradition of big-budget, cinematic Super Bowl advertising. With the Macintosh, Apple once again changed the tradition of how things were done. They challenged the standard of Microsoft’s DOS, the standard operating system used by most personal computers at the time. The Macintosh was the first mass-market computer to use a graphical user interface and a mouse, allowing people to simply “point and click” rather than input code. Ironically, it was Microsoft that took Apple’s concept to the masses with Windows, Gates’s version of the graphical user interface. Apple’s ability to ignite revolutions and Microsoft’s ability to take ideas to the mass market perfectly illustrate the WHY of each company and indeed their respective founders. Jobs has always been about challenge and Gates has always been about getting to the most people.

Apple would continue to challenge with other products that followed the same pattern. Recent examples include the iPod and, more significantly, iTunes. With these technologies, Apple challenged the status-quo business model of the music industry—an industry so distracted trying to protect its intellectual property and their outdated business model that it was busy suing thirteen-year-old music pirates while Apple redefined the online music market. The pattern repeated again when Apple introduced the iPhone. The status quo dictated that the cellular providers and not the phone manufacturer decide the features and capabilities of the actual phones. T-Mobile, Verizon Wireless, and Sprint, for example, tell Motorola, LG, and Nokia what to do. Apple changed all that when they announced that, with the iPhone, they would be telling the provider what the phone would do. Ironically the company that Apple challenged with their Blue Box decades before, this time around exhibited classic early-adopter behavior. AT&T was the only one to agree to this new model, and so another revolution was ignited.

Apple’s keen aptitude for innovation is born out of its WHY and, save for the years Jobs was missing, it has never changed since the company was founded. Industries holding on to legacy business models should be forewarned; you could be next. If Apple stays true to their WHY, the television and movie industries will likely be next.

Apple’s ability to do what they do has nothing to do with industry expertise. All computer and technology companies have open access to talent and resources and are just as qualified to produce all the products Apple does. It has to do with a purpose, cause or belief that started many years ago with a couple of idealists in Cupertino, California. “I want to put a ding in the universe,” as Steve Jobs put it. And that’s exactly what Apple does in the industries in which it competes. Apple is born out of its founders’ WHY. There is no difference between one or the other. Apple is just one of the WHATs to Jobs’s and Woz’s WHY. The personalities of Jobs and Apple are exactly the same. In fact, the personalities of all those who are viscerally drawn to Apple are similar. There is no difference between an Apple customer and an Apple employee. One believes in Apple’s WHY and chooses to work for the company, and the other believes in Apple’s WHY and chooses to buy its products. It is just a behavioral difference. Loyal shareholders are no different either. WHAT they buy is different, but the reason they buy and remain loyal is the same. The products of the company become symbols of their own identities. The die-hards outside the company are said to be a part of the cult of Apple. The die-hards inside the company are said to be a part of the “cult of Steve.” Their symbols are different, but their devotion to the cause is the same. That we use the word “cult” implies that we can recognize that there is a deep faith, something irrational, that all those who believe share. And we’d be right. Jobs, his company, his loyal employees and his loyal customers all exist to push the boundaries. They all fancy a good revolution.

Just because Apple’s WHY is so clear does not mean everyone is drawn to it. Some people like them and some don’t. Some people embrace them and some are repelled by them. But it cannot be denied: they stand for something. The Law of Diffusion says that only 2.5 percent of the population has an innovator mentality—they are a group of people willing to trust their intuition and take greater risks than others. Perhaps it is no coincidence that Microsoft Windows sits on 96 percent of the world’s computers whereas Apple maintains about 2.5 percent. Most people don’t want to challenge the status quo.

Though Apple employees will tell you the company’s success lies in its products, the fact is that a lot of companies make quality products. And though Apple’s employees may still insist that their products are better, it depends on the standard by which you are judging them. Apple’s products are indeed best for those who relate to Apple’s WHY. It is Apple’s belief that comes through in all they think, say and do that makes them who they are. They are so effective at it, they are able to clearly identify their own products simply by preceding the product name with the letter “i.” But they don’t just own the letter, they own the
word
“I.” They are a company that champions the creative spirit of the individual, and their products, services and marketing simply prove it.

Conservative estimates put the numbers at three to one. But some historians have said the English army was outnumbered by six to one. Regardless of which estimates you choose to believe, the prospects for Henry V, king of England, did not look good. It was late October in the year 1415 and the English army stood ready to do battle against a much bigger French force at Agincourt in northern France. But the numbers were just one of Henry’s problems.

The English army had marched over 250 miles, taking them nearly three weeks, and had lost nearly 40 percent of their original numbers to sickness. The French, in stark contrast, were better rested and in much better spirits. The better-trained and more experienced French were also excited at the prospect of exacting their revenge on the English to make up for the humiliation of previous defeats. And to top it all off, the French were vastly better equipped. The English were lightly armored, but whatever protection they did have was no match for the superior weight of the French armor. But anyone who knows their medieval European history already knows the outcome of the battle of Agincourt. Despite the overwhelming odds, the English won.

The English had one vital piece of technology that was able to confound the French and start a chain of events that would ultimately result in a French defeat. The English had the longbow, a weapon with astounding range for its time. Standing far from the battlefield, far enough away that heavy armor was not needed, the English could look down into the valley and shower the French with arrows. But technology and range aren’t what give an arrow its power. By itself, an arrow is a flimsy stick of wood with a sharpened tip and some feathers. By itself, an arrow cannot stand up to a sword or penetrate armor. What gives an arrow the ability to take on experience, training, numbers and armor is momentum. That flimsy stick of wood, when hurtling through the air, becomes a force only when it is moving fast in one direction. But what does the battle of Agincourt have to do with finding your WHY?

Before it can gain any power or achieve any impact, an arrow must be pulled backward, 180 degrees away from the target. And that’s also where a WHY derives its power. The WHY does not come from looking ahead at what you want to achieve and figuring out an appropriate strategy to get there. It is not born out of any market research. It does not come from extensive interviews with customers or even employees. It comes from looking in the completely opposite direction from where you are now. Finding WHY is a process of discovery, not invention.

Just as Apple’s WHY developed during the rebellious 1960s and’70s, the WHY for every other individual or organization comes from the past. It is born out of the upbringing and life experience of an individual or small group. Every single person has a WHY and every single organization has one too. An organization, don’t forget, is one of the WHATs, one of the tangible things a founder or group of founders has done in their lives to prove their WHY.

Every company, organization or group with the ability to inspire starts with a person or small group of people who were inspired to do something bigger than themselves. Gaining clarity of WHY, ironically, is not the hard part. It is the discipline to trust one’s gut, to stay true to one’s purpose, cause or beliefs. Remaining completely in balance and authentic is the most difficult part. The few that are able to build a megaphone, and not just a company, around their cause are the ones who earn the ability to inspire. In doing so, they harness a power to move people that few can even imagine. Learning the WHY of a company or an organization or understanding the WHY of any social movement always starts with one thing: you.

There are three months indelibly printed in my memory—September to December 2005. This was when I hit rock bottom.

I started my business in February 2002 and it was incredibly exciting. I was “full of piss and vinegar,” as my grandfather would say. From an early age, my goal was to start my own business. It was the American Dream, and I was living it. My whole feeling of self-worth came from the fact that I did it, I took the plunge, and it felt amazing. If anyone ever asked me what I did, I would pose like George Reeves from the old
Superman
TV series. I would put my hands on my hips, stick out my chest, stand at an angle and with my head raised high I’d declare, “I am an entrepreneur.” What I did was how I defined myself, and it felt good. I wasn’t like Superman, I was Superman.

As anyone who starts a business knows, it is a fantastic race. There is a statistic that hangs over your head—over 90 percent of all new businesses fail in the first three years. For anyone with even a bit of a competitive spirit in them, especially for someone who defines himself or herself as an entrepreneur (hands on hips, chest out, standing at a slight angle), these overwhelming odds of failure are not intimidating, they only add fuel to the fire. The foolishness of thinking that you’re a part of the small minority of those who actually will make it past three years and defy the odds is part of what makes entrepreneurs who they are, driven by passion and completely irrational.

After year one, we celebrated. We hadn’t gone out of business. We were beating the odds. We were living the dream. Two years passed. Then three years. I’m still not sure how we did it—we never properly implemented any good systems and processes. But to heck with it, we’d beaten the odds. I had achieved my goal and that’s all that mattered. I was now a proud member of a very small group of people who could say, with statistical proof, that I was an American small business owner.

The fourth year would prove to be very different. The novelty of being an entrepreneur had worn off. I no longer stood like George Reeves. When asked what I did, I would now tell people that I did “positioning and strategy consulting.” It was much less exciting and it certainly didn’t feel like a big race anymore. It was no longer a passionate pursuit, it was just a business. And the reality was that the business did not look that rosy.

We were never a runaway success. We made a living, but not much more. We had some FORTUNE 500 clients and we did good work. I was crystal clear on what we did. And I could tell you how we were different—how we did it. Like everyone else in the game, I would try to convince prospective clients how we did it, how we were better, how our way was unique . . . and it was hard work. The truth is, we beat the odds because of my energy, not because of my business acumen, but I didn’t have the energy to sustain that strategy for the rest of my life. I was aware enough to know that we needed better systems and processes if the business was to sustain itself.