I’ve been amazed at the scope and depth of the reaction to the death of Apple’s Steve Jobs. It goes beyond the fact that he was relatively young and very prominent and influential. We’re seeing what looks like deep grief and personal loss on the part of people who didn’t even know him.
I was sad to hear he’d died, as I’d be sad to hear of the death of almost anyone relatively young, with four children and a wife and a lot of life in him, and more innovative work he could have done. But I’m not a Mac aficionado nor am I a techie, and I hadn’t followed the career or life of Jobs in anything except the most cursory way.
So I don’t share that intensely personal reaction of others, and at first I didn’t understand their grief. But on reflection I think I get it. Jobs was one of those people who really did “follow his bliss.” He seems to have been a unique and powerful mind almost from the start, with strengths in various areas: technical innovation combined with an esthetic sense, knowing what people would want even before they did, and organizing and managing things and people to produce the products that would profitably fulfill those wants and create more.
In doing this he rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. Those who worked for him often found him abrasive and difficult. But most of us didn’t work for him; we only got to look in from the outside, and to use his products for work or play. And that’s part of the secret to the strong emotional reaction to his death: we may not have known Jobs personally, but Jobs as innovator affected us in extremely personal ways—by changing the methods and technology by which we learn, work, and entertain ourselves.
The other thing about Jobs’s death that I believe struck people is the more conventional one: the relatively early death of a guy who seemed to have it all but who couldn’t stave off fate. The memento mori proves the truth of the poet’s words, that death is also a universal and an equalizer:
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e’er gave,
Awaits alike th’ inevitable hour:-
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
I’ve been trying to think of someone who else whose life and death has affected people similarly. I can’t. The closest I can come is a combination of Thomas Edison (can’t find much about the reaction to his death, but I doubt it was anything like the grief over Jobs) and Walt Disney.
It’s the latter, strangely enough, whom I think Job resembles more than the former. Disney was an innovator who affected people in terms of entertainment, creating a huge empire that began with cartoons but expanded into amusement parks of unprecedented scope.
It seems I’m hardly the first person to make the Jobs/Disney comparison, although it occurred to me independently; I hadn’t read articles like this one when it came to me. But even Jobs’s associate Steve Wozniak seems to think it’s Disney whom Jobs most resembled, not Edison (the relevant passage begins at minute 4:15—and my guess is that Wozniak thinks that Wozniak resembles Edison more than Jobs did):
The comparison is even more clear than that, because one of Jobs’s lesser-known business interests was acquiring Pixar and developing the film “Toy Story,” an extension of the computer into the cartoon world. The connection between Jobs and Disney later became even more direct, as you may be surprised to discover:
The bulk of [Jobs’s] wealth came from his 7.4 percent stake in The Walt Disney Co. — 138 million shares — worth $4.4 billion. Jobs acquired Pixar in 1986 and Disney bought the computer animation studio in 2006, placing Jobs on Disney’s board of directors. According to Bloomberg, Jobs’ Disney stock paid him at least $242 million in dividends before taxes since 2006. Jobs was the single largest shareholder in Disney, the parent company of ABC News.
Jobs was a very rich man, and he probably enjoyed that wealth. But he seems to have been driven by something else:
In 1993, Jobs told the Wall Street Journal: “Being the richest man in the cemetery doesn’t matter to me”¦Going to bed at night saying we’ve done something wonderful”¦that’s what matters to me.”
Much of the world seems to agree that Steve Jobs did something wonderful.
[ADDENDUM: And here, right on schedule, is a comparison of the grief at the death of Edison to the death of Jobs.]




