little girl: #1 assignment

Steve Jobs is the Apple of IT industry's eye

LAST Wednesday, to much fanfare and anticipation, Apple unveiled the
     second generation of its iconic iPad device. Dubbed rather simply the iPad
     2, it is, unsurprisingly, everything a sequel should be: thinner, lighter,
     faster, sexier. And while merely evolutionary rather than revolutionary,
     Apple has, in typical fashion, filled it with enough bells and whistles,
     with just the right amount of "shiny" to get consumers excited.
       For the most part, the technical specifications and features of the iPad
     2 have matched the rumours and speculation that have been circulating on
     the Internet for the last few weeks. There were few revelations (with the
     exception of the very clever "smart cover" that puts the iPad to sleep
     when you close it). In fact, the biggest surprise of the morning was the
     return of Steve Jobs.

                      On Jan 17, Jobs announced that he would take indefinite medical leave. A
     memo sent to Apple employees read: "At my request, the board of directors
     has granted me a medical leave of absence so I can focus on my health. I
     will continue as CEO and be involved in major strategic decisions for the
     company."

                     His health problems began in 2003 when he was diagnosed with pancreatic
     cancer. In 2009, he announced a leave of absence that lasted six months,
     during which time he was said to have had a liver transplant.
       While this second leave of absence from the company wasn't necessarily
     surprising, it did lead to a tremendous amount of speculation about the
     state of his health and the future of Apple. It sparked concern among his
     cult-like followers. It spooked investors. It caused the company's shares
     to dip. There was even a proposal tabled at a shareholders' meeting that
     would force Apple to outline a succession plan for its executives. It
     failed to pass.

                      One supermarket tabloid, The National Enquirer, even went so far as to
     run characteristically dodgy photos and a headline claiming that,
     according to "medical experts", Jobs had only six weeks to live.
       So why all the hoopla, why all the conjecture and rubbernecking, over
     one man's struggle to regain his health?
       Because Jobs might just be the single most important man in the
     technology industry at this point of time.
       Bill Gates is off convincing his other billionaire buddies to save the
     world. Steve Ballmer is struggling to keep Microsoft relevant. HP and Dell
     have been relegated to a level that lies just above the door-to-door
     encyclopaedia salesman. That Facebook fellow is only really concerned
     about Facebook. And the Google boys are so easily distracted by the shiny
     and the new that they are yet to find a real focus.

                        Jobs, on the other hand, runs the most highly valued technology company
     in the world, one that continues to set the standard by which the industry
     operates, or at least seeks to emulate. They lead the way. They set the
     scene. They are   la mode. Which is why there is real concern about what
     will happen to Apple if anything ever happens to Jobs.
       Because Apple's successes go beyond the hordes of brilliant designers,
     engineers and scientists that craft their products.

                     Theirs is a business that has been rebuilt by Jobs' skills as a
     strategist, not by knowing what consumers want or need, but rather by
     telling them what they do. Did you know you needed 10,000 songs in your
     pocket? Before the iPod, you didn't. Theirs is a business that is reliant
     on his ability to perform on stage. Theirs is a business that is rooted in
     his personal philosophy. One he reminded the crowd of in his closing
     remarks last week. "It's in Apple's DNA that technology alone is not
     enough," he told a crowd totally in thrall. "It's technology married with
     the liberal arts, married with the humanities that yields the results that
     make our hearts sing."

                      And while there is little doubt about the inherent dangers of having the
     fate of an entire company entrenched in the inspiration and ability of one
     man, it is, however, the way these things go. That such sky-high success,
     that such all-encompassing influence, be it in business or politics, is
     hardly ever achieved by committee. That it takes a singular and focused
     vision. That these things live and die with the man.
       So last Wednesday, when he took to the stage - the geek messiah,
     compulsively clad in his Levi's 501s and black turtleneck - it was in many
     ways a bold proclamation that the rumours surrounding his demise were
     greatly exaggerated. It was quite a symbolic gesture. It required little
     explanation.

                          In fact, all he said was: "We have been working on this product for a
     while and I just didn't want to miss today."
       He did not linger. He did not dwell. The sight of him was all the
     reassurance needed. It was him saying, "do not count me out just yet."