Apr 10, 2010 14:47
It’s the software, stupid.
What galls me so much about Steve Jobs declaring jihad on Adobe is that it shows that he’s lost perspective on what makes a personal computer an important tool in a person’s life. Apple has become so fixated on the hardware that they no longer understand that software is the driving force behind the popularity of any given platform.
Don’t get me wrong, I used to be a hardcore Apple fan boy. I knew when I saw that first TV commercial during the 1983 Super Bowl that I was witnessing something important, something world-changing. My first computer was a Macintosh SE, and I thought it was the bomb. At the time, the only alternative was an IBM PC, and unless you were a pocket-protector wearing comp-sci major, that just wasn’t acceptable. I totally bought into Apple’s rhetoric about putting the power of computers into the hands of regular people, and unleashing their creative potential. As Guy Kawasaki used to say, “if you cut me, I bleed six colors” (referring to the old rainbow Apple logo). They had the better hardware, the better OS, and - largely because of Adobe - the best software.
PhotoShop literally redefined my life. Nearly everything I am today is either because of PhotoShop, or has been reshaped and focused through my use of PhotoShop. Adobe Premiere first put video into my hands. PageMaker let me become a publisher. Illustrator introduced me to vector graphics. When I look back and think about why I loved the Mac so much through the late 80s and early 90s, I am forced to admit that while the box itself was pretty and cool, the things that made me so loyal to Apple had nothing at all to do with the hardware beyond the fact that it ran the software that I loved so dearly and made it possible for me to do things I had never thought would be within my reach.
When I started working at Atari in 1993, I had to learn Autodesk’s 3D Studio, which was only available on the PC. Again, my world changed. 3D modeling and animation became my livelihood, but was still joined at the hip with Photoshop for creating texture maps, backgrounds and cleaning up renderings. However, for a long time, the Windows version of Photoshop was a pale, clunky imitation of the Mac version, so I clung to my Mac and became a two-platform user. It was twice as expensive and took up twice as much desk space, but the software on the Mac made it worth it.
Eventually, Adobe beat the Windows version of PhotoShop into shape, and Microsoft came out with Windows XP, which was the first time that Windows became as stable and easy to use as the Mac OS. With no software-motivated reason to keep a Mac, I went exclusively PC and have never gone back.
As this transition was happening, I was witnessing the death of Atari Corp. from the inside, giving me a unique perspective on the mechanics of a major corporations’ demise. From my vantage point, I could see that Atari management had become completely fixated on the Jaguar game platform as a piece of hardware. They tried to sell it like an appliance, like a toaster oven or a blender. They touted its processing power and speed, they crowed about its low price point. But they were completely oblivious to the real reason that anyone would buy one, and that was to play games. Sure, they made games for the Jag, but there were few of them, and most of them were simply awful. They acted like the whole process of publishing games was an annoying nuisance, something they did only because they had to, like a kid forced to eat brussels sprouts or doing one’s homework. They made the development process joyless and so legally and technically cumbersome that none of the big game developers wanted to touch it. No matter how advanced the hardware may (or may not) have been, with no “killer apps” to lure consumers into investing in a new set top box, the Jaguar languished on store shelves and in warehouses until Atari Corp. threw up its hands in resignation and threw in the towel.
It genuinely saddens me to now see Apple making the same mistake. Yes, the Macintosh is still an awesome - if expensive - computer, but people aren’t buying them to decorate their den, they want to use programs on it. The iPod is cool and all, but the real reason we all own one is to listen to the music that we love. Without the music, it would be a nearly useless tchotchke. The new iPad is a promising device, possibly even a new revolution in consumer electronics, but without the right software, it’s a soulless hunk of plastic, metal and silicon, a doorstop.
For some reason that I am completely unable to understand, Steve Jobs has declared war on Adobe, refusing to support Flash or even software written in Flash - or any language other than C - and ported to the iPhone. He’s decided that the iPhone hardware is just too cool for apps not written by Apple, or at least developed in strict accordance to Apple’s draconian guidelines. He’s demanded that any iPhone software be subject to arbitrary approval to be sold by the iStore, the sole retail outlet. In short, he’s decided that the hardware is so important, that software developers better fall in line or hit the road.
Just like it did with Atari, I believe that this attitude can only backfire on Apple. The iPad doesn’t have the existing installed base that the iPhone enjoys. The iPhone has the killer app that everyone wants a phone for - making phone calls - and everything else is just gravy. The iPad has no such app, at least not yet. Squashing innovation and competition is not the best way to insure that such apps emerge, and without them, the iPad is doomed. Apples insistence on maintaining absolute control over software development and its stranglehold on the sole retail channel can only choke off the real reason that people will use its products.
Faced with choosing between a hardware manufacturer that I have fond memories of and the people who make the software that I use every single day of my life, the software that allows me to bring my dreams to fruition, I don’t even have to think about it.
When a piece of fruit goes rotten, I throw it in the compost bucket.
- B.J. West