Wednesday evening 10PM CET. I looked at my lightweight MacBook Air. It had served me well for almost a year now and I had become quite attached to it. I used it on a daily basis to read the internet from the comfort of my living room sofa. It was a revelation, reading from an electronic device with live internet connection and a bunch of tools right to your disposal, has so much more depth and possibilities than reading from paper. The MacBook Air was the first laptop computer that wasn’t so heavy that it would force me back to the more formal setting of a desk. I had a similar experience with the iPhone, despite the small screen it was amazing how well suited it was for reading and how big the advantages were over ordinary paper. But now I felt reluctance to start up the laptop…
I was going to consult the Apple website to see what yet another widely anticipated Apple product would look like. The next morning I would watch the keynote over iTunes, for a first impression the website was more suited. But did I really want to know? I knew what was coming, I knew the Magic Slate would offer improvement over both the iPhone and the MacBook Air, I knew it would be great… and I knew it would be kind of betrayal to those other devices I was so entirely happy about.
Still, of course, I had too look, and I had to watch the keynote too.
The Messiah
Steve Jobs was more serene than he used to be in his keynotes. No tears over unwrapping the new product this time, he knew it was good, he knew it would sell, he knew it would change the world. Moreover he knew his audience was ready to receive his message. Months of wide speculation had preceded the event. Years ago he had tried to fight against this kind of speculation but over time he had discovered he could use it to his own avail, sometimes even feed it with deliberate leaks. He had discovered that, however important the surprise effect might be for a showman, the shock for his public shouldn’t be too big or they wouldn’t but it. So it wasn’t bad after all his audience more or less knew what was coming.
The actual unwrapping was uneventful. He said: “I happen to have one here.” And, bloops, at a spot that nobody noticed there was a table with a wrapped object, but before anyone notices the wrap was already gone and he hold it in his hands.
On the stage was an easy-chair. The new product was meant for reading in a comfortable position so this was the appropriate position to demonstrate it. But the easy-chair also matched Steve’s attitude. Giving keynotes had become kind of routine over the years, not that it was easy, just that he knew the tricks and had developed a lot of craftsmanship in doing it. Moreover he had left the real surprises to his colleagues, they had worked hard for it and now certainly deserved the pride and attention. Except for the last sheet, that was entirely his. For now he had to go through the basic functionality. He used words like “great” and “surprising”, and he sure was satisfied, but it was all stuff that for him had become quite obvious and part of daily life.
The Destination
One of the gimmicks of his keynotes had always been the “One More Thing”. He liked to awe his audience with yet another incredible announcement. Sometime he had even spared up his main message to serve as a “One More Thing”. This time was more quiet, more sacred: “This is what we stand for, we are on the crossroads of Technology and Liberal Art.”
For his public the meeting had been about the announcement of the new product but for him, this was the real meaning. He had changed the world to make it a better place, he hadn’t done it because he wanted to dominate (yes, maybe initially), he wanted people to understand. It was almost like he said: “Sorry, it took me 34 years and a multi billion dollar company to make you listen.” This had certainly been the most important announcement of his life.