Like many I have read the articles and posts about the death and life of Steve Jobs, Apple’s CEO, and like some, I’ve been moved by his passing. I wondered why his death, out of so many each day, seems to have impacted my mind and emotions so much.
I was not always a techie/geek sort of person; I’m not a high level one now, but I do enjoy working with my various Apple devices. How and why have I ended up that way?
It all started back in my teens when my father, the prime mentor and light of my early life, explained to me that a reason he enjoyed having a manual transmission on a car was that the car did not control him, he was in control of the car. For a good part of my life I followed his advice and enjoyed having the sense that my use of a manual transmission in some way gave me control over my car’s actions and more of a partnership with it than might be otherwise. Thinking back, that may have planted the seeds of my enjoyment in working with my computers, in having them truly be an extension of me, in challenging myself to see just how much I could be in charge of such complicated machines.
Later, when it came time to set up my own law office in the early ‘80s, I gravitated to methods where I retained some measure of control over my workplace and production. I was a solo and many of my papers had to be written and typed by me rather than by a secretary. At that time the other machines were fancy typewriters [which could ‘only’ type words as they rolled off my fingers] and IBM/Windows computers which called for me to interact with a black screen and light greenish letters and symbols. I opted for hiring a paralegal to work with me, helping with cases and creating some documents, and buying a Macintosh computer to allow me to write my own pleadings and briefs.
For most of the rest of the 25+ years of my law practice, that was how I operated. I had the assistance of several wonderful paralegals and law clerks and a trusty Mac computer as my production machine of choice. I easily became one of those Mac fanatics, somewhat defensive when everyone else thought I was merely playing with toys and not using a ‘real’ computer, but proud that my writings stood up equally with those of larger and fancier law firms. [And fortunate when my pride led me to buy Apple stock at its nadir.]
Over the years I’ve had a number of different Apple computers and devices: I still have my Classic [can’t part with it and can’t figure out what to do with it!]; I still have two Cubes [same thing] and I’ve moved through a number of other machines: iMacs, Powerbooks, to my present use of a MacPro and MacbookPro, iPhone4 and iPad. Each of these gives me the feeling [whether accurate or not] that I am in control of my technology, that the various devices work at my behest and produce things that I wish produced, as I wish them produced. That they meld with me to result in a meaningful work product [whether legal arguments as a lawyer or photographic images as a photographer]. That my creative urges, in writing and photography, find themselves promoted and enhanced through these machines, not contradicted and stifled by my need to follow the strictures of how the machine wants to me to produce.
All this may seem nuts, but the fact that I can and have been able to do some of my own upgrades [adding RAM, adding harddrives, mainly] easily and that I truly enjoy playing with and using my various devices, means that since so much of my life involves creation and production of writings and images using them, it’s not drudgery, it’s truly enjoyable.
So, when Steve Jobs died the other day I was moved as I haven’t been by the death of a public figure in years. Not because he was the sole creator of Apple products or that he was a brilliant marketer and promoter of them. But because his dedication to making sure that they were devices that worked with us, that were an extension of us, that were pleasing to view and fun to use, meant that I was able to enjoy many of my working hours, even at tasks I really dreaded doing. His dedication to and insistence upon absolute perfection in the Apple experience meant that from the opening of the box it came in to having it just start up with its distinctive chime, to using it, was really a joy. It was as if his decisions as head of that company were meant for me to anticipate and enjoy my new Apple product and that I would be in control of it, that I could make it bend to my desires and whims, and that we were really a partnership.
Two last thoughts: no, he wasn’t perfect and there are plenty of stories of him as an insensitive and demanding taskmaster, but negative qualities are often necessary to balance an abundance of positive ones. And while several people criticize him for not having the same wonderful philanthropic streak as Bill Gates or turning his many talents to finding a cure for the cancer which killed him, who’s to say what he did in his private time and who has a right to demand people use their talents in the way a certain way rather than how the person feels impelled to act. In this society some of us are lucky to be able to decide how to use our skills and talents and the freedom to make those choices is an important part of and reason for the success of the American experiment. And who is to say that heading a company which could make machines enabling others to be creative, productive, inspired and inspiring, isn’t the best way to use one’s talents and skills?
