A Perspectivist Approach to Innovation: The Macintosh Case (Part 1: Mixed Reception)

When we think of any given “time” and “space” as an aggregate of the multiple velocities and sentiments that coexist within the same kairos, as I discussed in a previous post, we can look at the same products from multiple perspectives. We can consider that they fail relative to certain sociological or psychological criteria (such as fast pervasive adoption, for example), or that they succeed relative to other characteristics of the kairos—whether perdurable attitudes and values or smaller nascent currents that may turn into main streams.

One archetypal product illustrates how perplexing it can be to assay an innovation and figure out its fate within an ecosystem and, eventually, over time: the Macintosh. When the Mac came out, there was no doubt that it was the computer of the future in the minds of many, including me (so much so that I created my first company on the Macintosh!). The story, though, is somewhat more complex. The Mac got a mixed reception (this is what I discuss in this post)—before it succeeded (I will address this topic in two additional posts). 

Steve Jobs’ Grand Expectations…

By 1980, Apple was already a formidable company. Its IPO prospectus, published in December 1980, reported that sales had grown from $774,000 in 1977 to $118 million in 1980—"a pace which would inspire envy in any 21st-century unicorn,” as Harry McCracken rightfully put it later. Given that we were still in the early days of personal computing and that competition was coming from everywhere, pressure was high for Apple to maintain its presence in the limelight. So, by the end of 1978, development work for the Lisa and the Apple III had started. In 1979, Jef Raskin had initiated the Macintosh project, which Steve Jobs took over after he was kicked off of the Lisa team. Jobs viewed the small Macintosh as his magnum opus.

Steve Jobs was intent on kicking the industry in the face. In his introductory speech, he posited that the Macintosh would become “the third industry milestone product,” the first two being, according to him, the 1977 Apple II and the 1981 IBM PC. Incidentally, Jobs forgot about the Commodore 64, although it was outselling everything at the time. He was also adamant about how success would be assessed: “Apple offers no compromise to the IBM standard with the Macintosh. The Macintosh is just the best we can do,” Jobs said. “If it fails, we deserve to fail. If it succeeds, no compromise will be necessary.”

By Jobs’ standards at the time, the Mac failed, although it did turn out to be a landmark for different reasons (as I will discuss in a subsequent post). It sold well in 1984, but not so well in 1985, and never in its history did it come close to unseating the IBM PC/clone industry.

So, what stood in the way of the adoption of the Macintosh? Quite a few factors, but I will focus on three major ones here:

1.    The Mac’s Limitations and the Loss Aversion Factor

2.    The Advertising Gap Instinct Trap

3.    Innovator’s Focalism

The Mac’s Limitations and the Loss Aversion Factor

Loaded with amazing capabilities thanks to a software and hardware engineering team that was out of this world, the Macintosh and its development are a fascinating saga reported in minute details by Andy Hertzfeld in Revolution in The Valley: The Insanely Great Story of How the Mac Was Made. The effervescent 1980’s kairos demanded newness, and the Macintosh was undeniably a treasure trove of technological and artistic creativity, as well as a dazzling interpretation of Xerox PARC’s research.

It was the first personal computer destined to a wide audience entirely designed around a fully-fledged graphical user interface and using a mouse. Because of a tight integration of the hardware and system software, it was much easier to get it going than any other machine. Also, the consistent implementation of the desktop metaphor, which had already been around for quite a while (introduced by Alan Kay at Xerox PARC in 1970) and used here and there (like for the original LisaDesk or the somewhat gaudy Commodore’s Magic Desk-I), made the Macintosh feel uniquely friendly. The Macintosh became an instant myth. One year later, it “even had its own computer show” in San Francisco, as  Computer Chronicles announced in their broadcast.

Yet, the same kairos that calls for novelty also grows its own rules on what that novelty ought to be—hence the onslaught of criticism that plagued the neonate. For people like me who had loved the potential and the sophistication of Lisa, the 1984 Macintosh was a little bit of a disappointment. I also found it galling that, as software developers, we had to use the Lisa development tools for months’ end (because the Macintosh came with none). But I was convinced that things would improve quickly. For the general public, however, the Macintosh was a mixed bag. It was coming out with hardly any software, shipped with only 128K of memory, was slow, had no hard disk, was a closed system, lacked color, had a minuscule screen and was expensive, to name a few of its flaws. Plus, the graphical interface could even come across as gimmicky to detractors.

You could not peremptorily dismiss these concerns as reactionary rants. Most problems could have been avoided, had Steve Jobs heeded the remarks of his own team. Many issues were addressed in September 1984, when Apple released a model with 512K; then, in 1985, the combination of Apple’s LaserWriter printer, Adobe’s Postscript and the publication of Aldus PageMaker gave the Macintosh a powerful niche by starting a genre that became known as “desktop publishing,” an expression often attributed to Paul Brainerd, the founder of Aldus. But unfortunately, first impressions can also create the biggest damage, especially in a fierce competitive environment. As a result, the Macintosh failed at disrupting the make-up of the personal computing market of the 1980’s.

The basic lesson here is that as innovative as we may want to be, we can’t just push aside popular expectations and hope that people will only focus on what’s new. As loaded with fascinating features as it was, what the Macintosh didn’t have (like PC-compatibility) was perceived as a major obstacle to adoptability. No matter what innovators think, what the general market believes becomes the law of the land. They ignore it at their own risk: they can’t unilaterally forgo basic human behavioral traits, and especially not what psychologists and economists call the “loss aversion” or the “endowment effect.” The “Compatibility Craze” was here to stay.

Selling is persuading—and persuasion has been a critical dimension of kairos since Aristotle. Kairos has its rules, and one of them is the necessity to take people where they are ideologically, even if you want to embark them on a completely different journey. People love the idea of acquiring something new (objects, knowledge, relationships, etc.) only if they’re sure that they won’t be missing out on what they already have or have heard is a must-have.

The Advertising Gap Instinct Trap

By the time on the Mac launch, Steve Jobs had reached stardom and created gigantic expectations, so, as Hertzfeld put it, “the marketing campaign that launched the original Macintosh was almost as imaginative and innovative as the product itself […] The basic idea was to create a perception of the Macintosh introduction as an epochal event.” It was, indeed, but mostly for those contemporaries who were already part of the choir (myself included).

In his ambition to go for dominance, Jobs displayed a rather sectarian Weltanschauung. As much as we can hail the "1984" commercial as one of the boldest creations in advertising, it also demonized and almost ridiculed millions of new personal computer users. They didn’t necessarily see themselves as the victims of “Big Brother,” or of any Orwellian totalitarian leader for that matter. Often the opposite. In these early 80’s, many felt they had overcome their distrust of computers and were thrilled by all the new things they were learning. Sometimes, disregarding the people’s pride sounds like na?ve arrogance.

The 1984 commercial illustrated perfectly what Hans Rosling, in his book Factfulness, calls the “gap instinct,” which is the tendency to “have a strong dramatic instinct toward binary thinking, a basic urge to divide things into two distinct groups, with nothing but an empty gap in between. We love to dichotomize. Good versus bad. Heroes versus villains.” But where does such an approach leave normal people? Sometimes, it’s unclear: “The stories of opposites are engaging and provocative and tempting - and very effective for triggering our gap instinct - but they rarely help understanding.” Were those who had read Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four actually inclined to see themselves as part of the helpless “proles”? No.

The series of commercials that presented the Macintosh as “the computer for the rest of us” was similarly double-edged. The intent was to democratize computing. Jobs had the conviction that intellectuals often display when they believe they can orchestrate proletarian revolutions. But there’s the catch: Who wants to be part of an undifferentiated bulk? Who wants to be part of the “masses,” as opposed to the “classes,” as in the expression coined by Jack Tramiel, the founder of Commodore: “We need to build computers for the masses, not the classes”? And if you were happy to be part of the “masses” at the time, could you really afford a computer whose initial price was $2,495 (the equivalent of almost $6,200 in 2020)? Let’s remember that a Commodore 64 was priced at $600 and selling about 2 million units per year, and that the median household in 1984 in the United States was $22,420.  

To top it all off, this “rest of us” wasn’t exactly painted generously. The star wasn’t the user; the Mac was the one with all the wits: “The real genius of Macintosh is that you don’t have to be a genius to use it,” the ad declared, at a time when computer literacy was becoming increasingly mainstream and promised all sorts of new job opportunities. Hundreds of thousands of people were marveling at the new personal computing industry and excited to master even its quirks and problems. But, at the very moment they were starting to feel empowered, a major vendor was telling them they had wasted their time acquiring irrelevant skills, because now the tech would do the all the heavy lifting… Or, was the Mac targeting the ignorant?

In his introductory speech (heard by only a happy few), Jobs had indicated that the Mac would target the 25 million “knowledge workers,” a growing buzzword at the time, designating people sitting behind desks, particularly in medium and small size businesses, as well as college students, the “knowledge workers of tomorrow.” So was the Mac for those who felt part of an elite of sorts, then? In many respects, it was. By the same token, however, it may not be surprising then that it didn’t garner the anticipated wide market-share.

Innovator’s Focalism

Innovators must develop an intense focus on what they do. They have to be obsessed and obsessive to succeed. However, this very focus can backfire and turn into what psychologists call “focalism.” “Focalism (sometimes called the focusing illusion) is the tendency for people to give too much weight to one particular piece of information when making judgments and predictions. By focusing too much on one thing (the focal event or hypothesis), people tend to neglect other important considerations and end up making inaccurate judgments as a result.”  

When IBM announced in 1981 that it was getting into the personal computer market, Apple "welcomed" IBM with a full page ad in the Wall Street Journal titled “Welcome, IBM. Seriously,” followed by a sarcastic text almost defying IBM to make a lasting dent in a market that had started without them: “Over the next decade, the growth of the personal computer will continue in logarithmic leaps. We look forward to responsible competition in the massive effort to distribute this American technology to the world. And we appreciate the magnitude of your commitment. Because what we are doing is increasing social capital by enhancing individual productivity. Welcome to the task. Apple.” This was a stylish way to throw down the gauntlet… but also playing with fire!

Two years later, the summons to contest were inverted. Apple had not taken full measure of the extraordinary acumen and efficacy of the people who created the PC computer division of IBM, Bill Lowe and Don Estridge (whom Jobs unsuccessfully tried to hire later). Estridge, who was an Apple II user, ensured that his team operated quickly and enrolled third-party hardware and software left and right from the beginning. In other words, even a venerable and bureaucratic organization like IBM could breed entrepreneurial mavericks. Focalism often feeds on enduring stereotypes, like the assumption that large organizations can’t innovate. This is a major miscalculation: while it’s true that large companies can wither away from failing to rejuvenate, thousands of younger ones collapse for forgetting that “there are more things in heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in [their] philosophy.”

By aggrandizing Apple in the innovation kairos, dismissing market research and statistics, underestimating competition or assuming that Microsoft would be incapable of making a decent clone of Mac (although he did fume about it), Steve Jobs didn’t give the Macintosh the best possible chances of success. This was part of what Bud Tribble called the “reality distortion field” that made reality “malleable.” The reality principle did win: by the end of 1986, the PC platform had passed the 50% market share mark, reaching 84% in 1990, while the Macintosh stabilized at an approximate 6% market share.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, Steve Jobs and Bill Gates, to name only two of the heroes of the time, were part of the same innovation kairos. The former optimistically focused on promises that fit his worldview and his vision of humanity, while the latter realistically focused on what customers were most likely to purchase based on the state of the industry. The end result is that Microsoft shaped the personal computing era in all the ways Gates laid out as early as June 1985 in a letter he sent to the management of Apple.

Does this mean that the Macintosh was any less of an innovation? No. The innovation kairos is too complex to support the notion of a zero-sum game or the fallacy of a “fixed pie.” The 80s only displayed different innovation models that made their way differently into the texture of the world—so much so that, over 25 years later, both Microsoft and Apple dominate the technology industry, albeit for different reasons.   

Next: A Perspectivist Approach to Innovation: Mac or PC, Two Visions of Innovation (Part 2: Success)