The Second Coming of Steve Jobs - Alan Deutschman [67]
Laurene became immersed in motherhood and her own thriving career. She knew many of Steve’s business associates, especially the ones who frequently called on him at the house, and she occasionally dropped by his office, but she wasn’t visibly involved in his companies. She wasn’t striving to become a partner in power, a Hillary Clinton type.
But beneath the image of the perfect family, some of Steve’s close friends and colleagues thought that early on the marriage was troubled. They believed that it took a while for Steve to commit to the relationship because he truly loved Laurene, not because he felt a moral obligation to marry her. Eventually, however, he became known as a devoted husband and father and was exuberant about their son. Laurene maintained a certain independence but she was consistently supportive of Steve as he struggled with his career.
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AFTER HE SIGNED THE DISNEY DEAL, Steve’s role at Pixar once again receded to that of owner and distant overseer. He tried to push his way into the process of making movies, but the Pixar people conspired to keep him away. They respected his skills as a negotiator but not his instincts as a novice filmmaker.
With Alvy Ray Smith gone, Ed Catmull took the title of president. He was a quiet, scholarly type whose colleagues thought he was a “fish out of water” in business. Even though he avoided arguments, his demeanor concealed a fierce resolve. Ed was masterful at serving as a buffer between Steve and the rest of the company, especially the small team that was starting preproduction on Toy Story, which was led by director John Lasseter and producer Ralph Guggenheim. Ed drove down to Next’s headquarters once every four to six weeks to brief Steve, who only rarely showed up in person at Pixar’s offices. Steve’s attitude was that the Pixar people should “go to school on Disney’s dime.” He liked the idea that they were being paid to learn about the movie business from the masters. So long as he didn’t have to spend much of his own money, his anxiety was temporarily appeased. But the situation was difficult for Pixar, since Disney was only paying the direct expenses for making Toy Story, and the rest of the company—the programmers, for instance—was “on nickels and dimes,” recalls Pam Kerwin, who had stayed on to run the software business.
While they chafed about the tight resources, the Pixar people enjoyed their independence from their owner. Steve was always saying “give me an org chart,” but there never was a hierarchical chain of command. There was only a trio of executives—Ed, Ralph, and Pam—and everyone else sort of reported to them. Steve didn’t believe that there was really such a loose, unstructured, egalitarian arrangement. He thought they were trying to obfuscate the real situation to make it harder for him to intervene. He asked for an org chart, and when Steve asked for something, he didn’t forget. He would keep asking.
Steve couldn’t understand the Pixar culture because it was so different from what he had created at Next. The two companies were like control groups in an experiment. Next was a cult of personality revolving around a visionary but mercurial dictator. Pixar was a collegial, egalitarian group that thrived on open collaboration. Ed would run the meetings but he never dominated the conversation. Everyone was encouraged to contribute, whether they were administrative assistants or Ph.D. engineers. “Everyone’s opinion was expected,” recalls Pam Kerwin. “There were quite a few really weird people without social skills, but it was a very accepting environment. You could ask anyone anything, even the most experienced technical person, and they’d stop and take the time to explain.” It was the kind of sixties-inspired corporate culture that Steve had idealized earlier in his career, but with a communal aspect