October 5, 2011 was a special day. It was one of those days where people will recall exactly where they were when they heard the news of Steve Jobs' passing, even though they won't remember what day it happened. Facebook status updates, tweets, blog posts, articles, tv content all extolled the man whose products have shaped the way we connect and compute.
There is something interesting and different about this occasion. It's been on my mind for the past 24 hours as I scroll through statements from fans such as, "Some say it will end with him, but I say he gave us the tools and paved the way for something greater. Tomorrow we push towards the greatness and make him proud." Or, "I hope I can impact one person as much as Steve Jobs has impacted millions," and, "This world wouldn't have been the same without Steve Jobs."
I feel like Tom Hanks in Big sitting in that meeting raising his hand saying, "I don't get it." When first leaning of the news, I too had the distinct desire to share, tweeting a quote from the WSJ news alert while on my way to dinner. While I wanted to share, I couldn't find myself being moved in the same way that so many others were moved. Impacted by his life but not moved by it. His passing is not the kind that we share with friends in thoughtful emails. His work and, as a result, his passing is a profoundly cultural experience. We feel compelled to share, but we do so in the same way we might talk about a new product, i.e., that we are in the know and that we get the significance.
Jobs touched billions of lives, and he achieved what almost anyone would have loved to do - fame, fortune, and defining industries. And in a movie like ending, it's almost as though he was holding, beating the odds until he found a point where he could let go - like some hero in a movie that hangs on longer than anyone thought possible but slips away when everyone else is safe. With his life and his end there are no shortage of larger than life story lines.
The cultural versus truly personal impact of his departure is what has been on my mind the most. He didn't really touch us. Like a cult leader, we gave our lives to him, and the emotions we experienced as a result of interacting with his products we ascribe back to him. It's not wrong, but it's a different type of loss. I could only describe it as the Visionary's Dilemma, because for as for truly special as he was, I can't help but wonder if there wasn't a tragic component as well. We love him for his innovations, and in his products we saw a version of utopia (albeit a slightly scary one with certain restrictions). But, the inventions is where the love ends. No one talks about or presumably will talk about Steve the human being. No one will remember him for being kind, caring, and making them a better person. It doesn't mean he isn't kind, caring, or giving. It means that we never got to experience it, because he was so focused on his mission. Had his life not been cut short, it is possible that he could have impacted our humanity not only our human experience.
