It's January 2012 at Apple Headquarters in Cupertino, California. Apple's Vice President of Design, Johnny Ive, marches down an empty corridor lined with dark tinted windows, reaching a thick, locked door. The British designer swipes his ID card and enters the most secret and restricted area of the Apple campus, the design studio. Johnny nods to the assistant at the reception desk and then heads toward the main room.
The large workshop is lined with six long steel tables displaying prototypes and half finished models of future designs. This is where Johnny spent hours working and obsessing over every detail with Apple co-founder Steve Jobs. But since Steve's death, Johnny has found it difficult to summon up his old enthusiasm, until now.
At the far end of the room, Johnny's design team has gathered around a table, one of them spots their boss. Oh, morning, Johnny. But Johnny doesn't answer. Instead, he strides up to a large whiteboard on the wall. He grabs an eraser and starts wiping the scribbled remains of a previous meeting off the board as he speaks.
What we make describes us. It describes the things we care about. It describes our values. Everything around us speaks to who made it. Whether they were preoccupied and driven by price and schedule or whether they were driven by care and trying to make a product that would make our lives genuinely better. With the whiteboard clear, Johnny turns to face his team. And so many other companies, ideas and great designs get lost in the process. Here, they are the process. Now, watch you remember that, because this morning, we're starting something.
He pauses a moment, and his team stares back, hanging on every word. I've been thinking a lot recently about clocktowers. Now, what happened to that medieval technology over the centuries? Steadily, the clock became a household object. Not something you'd have in every room, not at first. You might have won for the whole house. But as technology improved, the mechanisms became smaller.
Time-telling migrated to your pocket, like the Victorian gentleman with her fog watches on a chain. Johnny pulls out his iPhone. We've made technology more personal and more accessible. We're all routinely carrying around these incredibly powerful computers in our pockets. But this isn't the end point of that technology. This, Johnny waves his iPhone. This is a fog watch. Tell me what happened to clocks after the fog. What came next?
One of his team members calls out from the back of the room. The wristwatch? Precisely. That's the journey of timekeeping. Like time itself, always forward, from the clock tower to the wristwatch. Computers are no different. From a mainframe the size of a room to a smart device that you can wear. Johnny turns back to the whiteboard. Takes up a marker and starts to write. This is it. This is our next project.
John taps his marker over the single word he's just written. Smartwatch. The designers around the table flick open their notebooks. A few share a half-hidden smile. Their boss is back. In that moment, it certainly looked as if Johnny I, the genius who played a vital role in the designs of the iPod, the iPhone, and the MacBook to name a few, was back.
For the next six months, Johnny and his team iterated and developed ideas for a new smart watch. In Johnny's imagination, the Apple Watch would be more than a timekeeping device. It would be a fashion accessory and a tool for health and fitness. The watch would be constructed out of innovative new materials that could measure a heartbeat or even detect cancer.
And after months of work in the summer of 2012, Johnny and his team presented their prototypes to the company's decision makers. CEO Tim Cook eagerly gave the Apple Watch the green light, but knew what was at stake with this new product. The last time Apple had unveiled a truly revolutionary device was under the tenure of the late co-founder and former CEO Steve Jobs. Many critics doubted whether Apple's culture of innovation had survived under its new chief executive. Tim Cook hoped the Apple Watch might change that conversation. Silence his critics, improve that under his leadership, Apple still had the ability to change the world.
In a four-part series, The Generation Y Podcast unravels the story of Khalif Browder, a young boy falsely accused of stealing a backpack and held it records island for three years without trial. This is a story about a young life caught in the middle of the justice system. Listen to Generation Y on Amazon Music or wherever you get your podcasts.
Since his death in 2009, the world has struggled with how Michael Jackson should be remembered as the King of Pop or as a monster. I'm Leon Nefak. My new podcast Think Twice, Michael Jackson, offers a new perspective on the art and the artist. Follow Think Twice, Michael Jackson, on Audible or the Amazon Music App.
From Wondery, I'm Lindsay Graham and this is Business Members. Music
我是Lindsay Graham,来自Wondery公司,欢迎收听“Business Members”节目。接下来请欣赏音乐。
本段话的意思是,Lindsay Graham 是 Wondery 公司的成员,主持“Business Members”节目,并开头播放音乐。
The first few years after the death of Steve Jobs, Apple's CEO Tim Cook oversaw a period of rapid growth. The smartphone market Apple had created was maturing fast. Sales of the iPhone helped push Apple revenues from 108 billion in 2011 to 170 billion just two years later. With that remarkable financial performance was clouded by doubts over Apple's long-term future.
Since the launch of the iPad in 2010, the company hadn't released any genuinely unique or innovative products. Tim Cook was under pressure to find new markets or new products to keep the company expanding. When Steve Jobs was alive, he always cast himself as the genius creator, the visionary. That reputation was earned, but it was also a useful piece of marketing.
The aura around Steve helped Apple sell its products. But with Steve gone, that aura had vanished. Many wondered whether Tim Cook's Apple was even capable of true innovation, or whether its future lay in churning out slightly modified versions of the iPhone each and every year. But those questions wrangled inside of his Apple.
They knew Steve didn't bring those iconic devices to life on his own. Those products were created through a collaborative development process involving many talented designers and engineers, most notable among them, Johnny Ive.
He was the one who had worked closest with Steve, and he didn't appreciate the criticism being leveled at Apple. He was convinced that the new Apple Watch would prove to be just as groundbreaking as the earlier creations had been. And Tim Cook hoped Johnny was right, giving his blessing to the watch.
But Tim was smart enough to know his own limitations. Tim's strengths were not Steve's strengths, and he knew it. Tim didn't share his predecessor's knack or obsession with design. So instead of trying to be someone he was not, Tim let Johnny take the lead on the new product. It was the latest sign of the designers growing influence and responsibility at Apple.
But building a smart watch would prove more challenging than anyone predicted. Development would drag on for years. So in the meantime, if Tim wanted to prove that Apple under his leadership was still a pioneer, he would have to take the company in a bold new direction.
This is the third episode of our four-part series on Tim Cook. Tick-tock. It's early summer, 2013, 18 months after Johnny Ive began developing a smart watch.
In his office on the Apple campus in Cupertino, Tim Cook reads through the latest reports on the Apple Watch. Tim has taken a hands-off approach to this new product, but development is not going well. Designer Johnny Ive has been forced to cut many of the watches more advanced features. But Johnny refuses to budge on one issue, marketing.
He doesn't think Apple's in-house team, led by an executive named Phil Schiller, knows how to promote the watch properly. So to spearhead the launch, Johnny wants to hire the CEO of the luxury fashion house Euson L'Rolle, Paul Beniff.
But Tim is concerned. If the watch is marketed solely as a fashion accessory, it may alienate Apple's traditional customers in the tech industry. At his desk, Tim finishes reading the most recent report on the watch's progress. And then looks up as Johnny Ive is shown into the office.
So, Paul Beniff. Yes, interesting guy. Yeah, I just feel he'd bring the right experience for the roll-out.
所以,保罗·贝尼夫。是的,他是个有趣的人。是的,我觉得他会为推出带来正确的经验。
Tim looks down at his notes. I do see S'On the Rolle has a couple of really strong years. Revenue, up more than 30% profits up to. Yeah, he understands the fashion world, Tim. But he also understands Apple. He was here in the 90s, I think. A little before my time. Still, Paul has this really delicate understanding of fashion. How he interacts with the marketplace. It's almost an act of translation. Taking this high-end, hot-cuture product, a visionary product in many ways. Bring it to the masses, but without losing its essence. That's not simple to do.
蒂姆看着他的笔记。我确实看到S’On the Rolle有几年非常强劲的业绩。收入增长超过30%,利润上涨。是的,蒂姆理解时尚世界。但他也了解苹果。我想他是90年代来这里的。比我稍微早一点。然而,保罗对时尚有着非常微妙的理解。他如何与市场互动。这几乎是一种翻译行为。将这种高端、热门的产品,一个在许多方面具有远见卓识的产品带给大众,但不失其本质。这并不是一件简单的事情。
Frankly, it's something I think we lack right now. Johnny leans forward in his chair. We have got great relations with the tech community. But our future is not in their hands. It's fashion publishers and taste makers like Inna Windtour and Karl Lagerfield. They are going to determine the success of the watch. And Paul knows them. He gets them.
I don't know Johnny, we've got a good team here already. We can give them a chance.
我不认识约翰尼,我们的团队已经很棒了,我们可以给他们一个机会。
I'm not denigrating anyone's work. And I'm not muscling in on anyone's turf. Phil Schiller, if this were a new phone, a new iMac, yeah, he'd be the guy. But the watch is different. Johnny, why? Because the watch will be worn and not carried. It is a piece of fashion.
It's an expression of what preoccupies and individual. They are taste. That's new for us. And I think it makes some people here at the company uncomfortable. Johnny, are you saying that I'm not fashionable? Tim gestures at his loose and wrinkled button down shirt. Not Tim, that's not it. The watch will move us into product spaces we have not been in before. But I am convinced, 100%, that this is the only way the watch can work. Paul's the man to do it.
One of Tim's strengths as chief executive was knowing when to step back and let others take the lead. He had already determined to back Johnny's vision for the Apple Watch. So in this conversation, he said yes to Johnny again. In July 2013, Apple announced the hiring of Paul Deneff. Tim put the Belgian executive in charge of the marketing and release strategy for the Apple Watch. And despite his private concerns, Tim did everything he could to support Johnny and get the Apple Watch ready for its highly anticipated launch.
More than a year later, in the fall of 2014, Tim would be unveiling the Apple Watch at a press event set to take place at DeAnza Community College, located close to Apple's headquarters in Cupertina. The location was chosen as a deliberate callback to two of the most successful product launches in the company's history. Inside that college's 2000 seat theater, Steve Jobs had revealed the first Mac and Touch computer back in 1984. He returned 14 years later in 1998 to launch the iMac. To Apple's marketing team, the college auditorium seemed a perfect location for Tim to show off the company's newest product.
But the watch's creator, Johnny I, had been worried. This wasn't meant to be a tech event. This was a fashion show as well. And if the Apple Watch was to be a success, the guests needed to be able to see the device up close to touch it, hold it, even to wear it. That was impossible in the cramped theater building. But Johnny had an idea. He suggested to Tim that Apple put up a temporary building on the grounds of the college, and there the hordes and journalists could admire the new watch in person. It wouldn't be easy or cheap.
The site outside the theater, which Johnny had in mind, was studded with trees. The college said they could be removed as long as Apple re-planted them afterwards. With the landscaping work and construction, the total cost of the temporary structure would be $25 million. Some Apple executives bought it at the price. It seemed decadent to spend so much. But Tim knew the cost was nothing compared to the billions of dollars in profit Apple made every year. And if the tent helped make the watch a success, then it would be money well spent. Tim ultimately approved construction on what many at Apple called the moat, the moat, or mother of all tents.
On September 9, 2014, Tim welcomed 2000 guests from the world of fashion and technology to the campus. The throng as celebrities and journalists were greeted by a massive temporary structure that was pure white, square edged, and two stories high. As the invited guests were ushered into the auditorium, many wondered what would be waiting inside the alien-looking pavilion. Later that morning, Tim took to the stage and delivered a two-hour presentation. He announced new versions of the iPhone, which delivered larger screens which customers had long requested. He unveiled the Apple Pay system, which allowed iPhone users to make purchases and stores merely by waving their device over a scanner. But that was all a prelude to the main event.
When Steve Jobs had been Apple CEO, he often waited until the end of a show to unveil a surprise new product with the words, we have one more thing. It was Code Apple fans' new well. So now, as Tim came to the end of his speech at Deans of College in September 2014, he was so confident that he boldly dared to emulate his much more charismatic predecessor. But we're not quite finished yet. We have one more thing. As the crowd cheered, Tim smiled and introduced what he called the next chapter in Apple's story. The lights in the auditorium dimmed and a slick video announced the Apple Watch. Tim hailed it as a new frontier, a product to enrich the lives of users in ways they had previously never imagined. He claimed the watch was more than just a miniature computer. It was a piece of jewelry to be treasured. It was technology made personal.
As Apple's first truly new product in more than four years, expectations for the watch were high. The iPhone and iPad had carved out new markets, sold millions, and rocketed Apple to never before seen growth.
But the glitzy launch event and the confidence Tim displayed on stage concealed a secret. The Apple Watch wasn't ready. In fact, it wouldn't be available to consumers for another seven months. And at Apple, far away from the crowds and the cameras, doubts were growing.
Although the watch was more than three years in the making, Apple engineers still hadn't conquered a myriad of problems that had plagued its development. The watch had limited battery life and a slow microprocessor. But there was another even more fundamental issue. Nobody at Apple could decide what the watch was actually for. Most understood that the watch had to do more than tell the time, otherwise it was pointless. But nobody could identify the precise problem it was designed to solve.
The iPhone had quickly become indispensable, a device people could not leave home without. But the watch seemed forgettable. Still Tim pushed development forward, eager to prove that the company he ran could still innovate and astonish.
In April 2015, seven months after the launch at Deanza College, the Apple Watch finally went on sale. Tim hoped to sell 40 million of them in the first year. It was an ambitious target. And one that soon seemed impossible. The Apple Watch was a complex product.
Apple offered customers a choice of watch case, band, and size. In total, there were 54 possible configurations. And this may have been a benefit to the buyer, but for Apple's factories in China, it was a burden. The plethora of configurations slowed down the production process, and the factories struggled to find enough workers to deliver enough watches to supply Apple's stores across the world.
But these operational problems were what Tim Cook was best at. He was not a design guru like his predecessor, but he was an expert at process and supply chains. Still though, Tim couldn't solve the problems overnight.
As the release date approached, the company tried to make a virtue of this shortage. Tim gave the go-ahead for an unusual strategy devised by Paul DeNove, the former E. Solorong executive. Apple would not seek to put the new product in front of as many customers as possible. Instead, the watch would only be made available in the most upmarket department stores in a few major cities around the world. Apple hoped this would create a buzz around the product and make the watch seem exclusive and desirable, like the other luxury brands it was sold beside.
But Paul's strategy backfired. Tech reviewers were left confused by the fashion-focused sales approach. Many fashion writers didn't see the appeal of a computer strapped to their wrists. Just as Tim had feared, the watch seemed to be pleasing nobody.
Eventually, Tim Cook saw the supply chain problems. But just as production in China finally increased, sales failed to keep up. In response, Tim was forced to cut back. Just weeks after the release of the watch, production plans were slashed by more than 70%. Johnny I, if the man who had pushed Apple toward the high fashion strategy, urged patients. In the past, other new Apple products had struggled before suddenly taking off. And Johnny was certain that would be true of the watch as well. But Tim Cook wasn't nearly as confident.
At the same time, the Apple watch was struggling. The company's most important product, the iPhone, was at a crossroads as well. Apple had fallen into a production rhythm known as the Tick Talk Model. The production pattern was first adopted by the chip manufacturer Intel. The iPhone followed a classic pattern. A major upgrade was delivered one year, so-called Tick. Before minor modifications, the talk followed the next year. But under Tim's tenure as CEO, this cycle of innovation and consolidation was falling away.
In 2014, the iPhone 6 was a major tick, but Apple planned to follow with two talks. In the face of vocal public criticism, Tim frequently insisted that the company was planning a major update for 2017, the 10th anniversary of the original iPhone. But in the media and to many tech insiders, it was a growing sense that the company was stagnating.
The watch couldn't be dismissed as a total failure. It was one of the best-selling wearable devices in history. But it had failed to crack open a vast, undiscovered market for Apple in the way the previous products like the iPhone had. Additionally, Tim was under growing pressure from investors to find new sources of revenue. If new hardware wasn't going to do it, then he would have to look elsewhere.
So to keep Apple growing, Tim set out to expand and neglected an often overlooked part of the company. It's services division. But Tim's new strategy would be a departure from Apple's pioneering culture of the past. If Steve Jobs had left his mark on the company as an innovator, Tim would be putting his brand on Apple by moving in a new direction.
Tim Cook's Aptime
It's early 2015. Tim Cook is in Apple's headquarters in Cupertino, making his way to a conference room. He called a meeting with Apple's senior executives to talk about where things stand with one of Tim's passion projects. Last year, Apple bought the electronics manufacturer of Beats for more than $3 billion. It wasn't only the company's advanced and popular headphones that Tim Cook was after, though. In January 2014, Beats launched a subscription music streaming service to rival the industry leader Spotify. Apple was working on a similar app of its own, but Tim wasn't happy with its progress. By purchasing Beats, Tim hoped to rebrand its software as Apple's and enter the market much more quickly. Now, with the release date of the new software approaching, Tim wants to discuss the business plan with his team.
When Tim steps inside the conference room, the chatty executives fall silent. Tim gets right to business by addressing one of the executives in the room. Ian, you ready to begin? Sure, Ian. Alright, we're all ears. Tim takes his seat, leans back and listens as Ian Rogers, the 42-year-old former CEO of Beats Music, begins his brief presentation. After the acquisition, Ian stayed on to head up development of Apple Music. When Ian finishes his pitch, Tim leans forward in his chair. Well, Ian, I'd like to start by querying your numbers a bit. Of course, Tim. Ian swallows nervously. Tim Cook is notorious for his surgical attention to detail.
当蒂姆走进会议室时,喋喋不休的高管们安静了下来。蒂姆直奔其中一个高管,准备开始。伊恩,你准备好了吗?当然了,伊恩。好的,我们都在听。蒂姆坐下来,向后倚着椅子,静静倾听42岁的前 Beats Music CEO 伊恩·罗杰斯的简短演示。在被收购后,伊恩留任负责苹果音乐的开发工作。等伊恩结束演示后,蒂姆向前倾听。好了,伊恩,我想先询问一下你的数字。当然,蒂姆。伊恩紧张地咽了口口水。因为蒂姆·库克出了名的精准注意力。
10 million subscribers. That's your one goal? It is, and we think that's a realistic target. Yeah. If everything comes together as we hope. But I don't think that's right. The rest of the room turns to Ian, who seems to deflate. Tim shakes his head and continues. Based on my analysis, 10 million is not a realistic target at all. I believe we can do far, far better. Ian glances at his colleagues who look at Tim with surprise, Tim smiles, and then defers. But you're the expert Ian, you tell me.
Well, 10 million is a lot. I mean, that's 100 times what we had with Beats. Yeah. But with respect to Beats, we ship 200 million iPhones every year. We can pre-load this app onto those new devices. Are you telling me that just one and 20 of those customers will sign up for Apple Music? But Tim doesn't wait for an answer. Instead, he presses his argument. I see, I think we need to be more ambitious. Spotify has what? 18 million subscribers? Let's make beating them the target, okay? Ian clears his throat.
Well, Tim, with respect, Spotify subscribers will be iPhone users as well, and we're effectively starting from scratch. Tim shakes his head and then chuckles. Come on, Ian. Do you have that little confidence in the product? You've just shown me a presentation, a great presentation, about how Apple Music will be different from what's out there, how it would be better than what's out there. So let's have some faith in our own words here, right? Ian takes a moment before making a new suggestion, okay? Or what if the target worked 20 million? That's more like it. We have to be ambitious. This is about changing our relationship with our customers. We are no longer asking them to make a big one-off purchase of an iPhone or an iPad every other year. This is going to be an ongoing commitment to a new relationship. Apple Music is just the beginning.
On June 8, 2015, Tim Cook took to the stage in San Francisco to introduce Apple Music to the world. He built the new software as a revolution. But to most people, Apple Music looked like an underwhelming clone of the existing streaming service Spotify. It still seemed like Apple was not innovating. It was mimicking. Tim didn't see it that way. He didn't think Apple was following the pack. Apple was following the money.
By 2015, subscription services were becoming more and more popular. People could use their smartphone, tablet computers and televisions to stream whatever entertainment they wanted, whenever they wanted it. There were popular video on demand services like Netflix, which had transitioned its business from sending out DVDs in the mail to streaming television and film over the internet. But it was music that Tim Cook was most interested in.
Apple had long styled itself as a champion of the music industry. In the early 2000s, the company introduced the iPod music player and the iTunes store where customers could buy songs for 99 cents a piece. These two innovations changed the face of the music industry and helped adapt it to the internet age. And over the next decade, Apple made billions of dollars.
But in more recent years, iTunes sales had begun to dip as streaming services emerged to challenge Apple's dominance. Companies like Spotify offered users a nearly infinite catalog of songs in exchange for a low monthly fee. Apple co-founder Steve Jobs once dismissed the idea that customers would want to rent their music collections. But the growing popularity of Spotify and other competitors proved that this was one area where the great visionary had failed to predict the shape of the future.
But Tim Cook was able to see what Steve Jobs could not. He saw that the rise of music streaming services was a threat to Apple but also an opportunity. Web-based services like iCloud and the App Store were already a small but growing part of Apple's business. In 2014, they had recorded revenues of almost $18 billion under a tenth of Apple's total income. But looking at companies like Spotify and Netflix, Tim saw the potential for rapid growth in the area. Instead of relying on new hardware alone to open up new markets, Tim decided to pivot and grab a slice of the growing market in streaming technology. The first phase of this new strategy would be Apple Music.
Still development of the streaming software was not easy. Having purchased beats in 2014, Apple retained the team behind Beatz Music and planned to use that software as the basis for the new Apple Music. But porting Beatz Music into Apple's systems proved more difficult than expected. There were frequent squabbles between the newcomers and the old guard of Apple engineers. And as the summer 2015 release date approached, the app was still far from ready. And it wasn't just the software that was unfinished. The app's library of songs and albums was incomplete as well. Licensing deals were yet to be signed, and there was a danger Apple's new music service would have to launch without some major artists.
Then as fraught negotiations with the record labels continued, details of Apple's proposed contract lead to disaster's effect. To lure customers in, Apple was promising new users a free three month trial. But to help pay for that, the company's negotiators came up with a brilliant solution. They wouldn't pay musicians for that period either. No matter how many times their songs were listened to during the trial period, no artist would see a penny.
On June 21, 2015, just days before the planned release of Apple Music, the pop star Taylor Swift took to her social media accounts to slam Apple for this policy. She wrote, we don't ask you for free iPhones. Please don't ask us to provide you with our music for no compensation. She announced she wouldn't allow her most recent album to feature on Apple's new streaming service. Taylor Swift's appeal attracted huge media attention, and her intervention threatened to completely overshadow the launch of Apple Music. And this was bad news. For Tim Cook, Apple Music was more than just a new streaming service. The app was the first step in what he hoped would be a whole new direction for the entire company.
So Tim stepped in to end the public relations disaster. After investigating the issue, Tim determined that Taylor Swift's argument was right. It wasn't fair to the artists. So he ordered his team to change the contracts. And just a day after Taylor Swift published her open letter, Apple announced a complete turnaround. The company agreed to pay for all songs streamed by customers during their free trial of Apple Music. To avoid a damaging mutiny by the artist's Apple claim to champion, the company went even further than that, and agreed to pay a higher fee for each song streamed. As a result, Apple ended up paying around double what its rival Spotify did for the exact same music. But to Tim, this was a price worth paying to get the app off the ground.
On June 30, 2015, Apple Music was released in 100 countries worldwide, with a catalog of 30 million songs, including those of Taylor Swift. The library of music was as large as that of the dominant platform Spotify. But where Apple hoped to stand out from the crowd of competitors was with curated playlists, tracks chosen by music experts. Internally, Tim had set a goal of reaching 20 million subscribers within the first 12 months.
But even with its curated playlists, the new software won underwhelming reviews. The app was slow and buggy. Some reviewers even called it ugly, a damning verdict for a company which prided itself on the beauty of its products. But Tim did not lose hope. There were half a billion iPhones and pockets all around the world. And Tim believed those devices were a gateway to a huge customer base who would see what Apple Music had to offer. In the end, he would be proven right.
Day by day, Tim watched subscription figures rise. Within six months of launch, Apple Music Service would sign up 10 million subscribers, and number Spotify had taken six years to reach. Soon, the new Music Service was on track to hit Tim's target of 20 million subscribers by the end of 2016. But the growing success of Apple Music masked a secret crisis brewing in Cupertino.
Behind the scenes, the British designer Johnny I, the brilliant mind behind the iPod, the iPhone, the iPad, and the recently released Apple Watch, had grown disillusioned with life at Apple. He had always seen himself as a torchbearer for the design legacy of Steve Jobs. But now, Johnny wanted to leave Apple behind. Soon, Tim Cook would be blindsided with a difficult reality. He might lose his most talented designer, one of the best of all time.
So as Tim shepherded Apple toward a future oriented around software and services, he would have to convince its master to design that he would not be left in the past.
随着Tim的引领,苹果公司未来的焦点是软件和服务,他必须说服主管们设计新科技,以免落后于潮流。
It's spring 2015 at Apple's campus in Cupertino, California. Tim Cook is making a rare visit to the company's story Design Studio. There, he stands over a molding device. Tim crouches down and leans in for a closer look as the machine clarves a prototype out of foam, a quick way for Apple's design team to get a feel for the size and shape of a potential new product.
As the machine finishes its work, Tim stands up straight, amazed. That is incredible. Tim turns back to the man whose his guide to the studio today, British designer Johnny Ive. Johnny nods his head in agreement. Yeah, it is incredible. Steve always loved the models. And he was right, with something you can hold and you can feel you instantly get a sense of the problems you don't see on a computer screen. God, I wish I had the bandwidth to spend more time down here. Johnny gives a roofal laugh.
Oh, me too. Hearing this, Tim looks Johnny in the eyes. Is everything all right, Johnny? Yeah, of course. But it's clear that there's something on his mind, so Tim asks again. Johnny, you know you can be honest with me, right? The stocky designer runs a hand over his shaved head. Looks around the workshop. Well, this isn't where I plan to have this conversation. We can go upstairs. No, no, it's fine. No, it's always coming in here.
Johnny takes a deep breath. Look, to tell you the truth, Tim, I'm tired. I'm just really tired. You need to vacation? Undoubtedly, but that's more than that. I'm spending less and less time in the two places I actually want to be. Here in the studio or at home. Instead, I'm in meeting, after meeting. But Johnny, I thought that's what you wanted, more responsibility. A bigger say. I thought so too. I did. But all the administrative management work, it's not me. I want to be here. Johnny gestures to the mold maker. I want to be with these machines and with my team. And the truth is, I just don't feel I'm delivering my best work.
Well, Johnny, I have no complaints. Whatever issues there may be with the watch, that's a beautiful piece of engineering. Johnny fiddles with the cuff of his jacket. Well, you think he'd like it? Steve would have loved it. I miss him too, you know. I don't think I ever gave myself the opportunity to grieve him properly. I understand, Johnny. Take as much time as you need. No, no. I want to leave Apple.
Team is silent for a moment. Losing the world's greatest industrial designer is not what he expected from his tour of the studio today. Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. And I appreciate your honesty, but I...We don't want to lose you, okay? What can I do to change your mind? I don't know. Well, we can look at ways to reduce your workload, get you back where you really belong. Let's just not rush into any decisions, okay? I don't want you to leave, Johnny. And I know that's not what Steve would want either.
On May 26th, 2015, Apple released a statement to the press. Officially, Johnny I was being promoted from senior vice president of design to chief design officer. But only those at the top of the company knew the truth. Johnny's new position was a part-time role that had only been agreed to as a compromise to stop the designer leaving Apple altogether.
Tim made sure the managerial tasks that had worn Johnny down were delegated to others so the designer could focus solely on his creative duties. But the restructuring didn't solve the ongoing problems with Johnny's creation, the Apple Watch. So with his lead designer taking a new, more backseat role, Tim decided it was time to make another change.
In the summer of 2015, Tim cooked called a meeting with some of his top executives at Apple Headquarters. As they gathered in the boardroom, they all knew what they were there to discuss. After a disappointing launch in the spring, sales at the Apple Watch had not recovered. Production targets were slashed as media reports speculated that Apple was selling only a tenth of what the company had once expected. The executives in the boardroom at Cupertino looked over the sales figures with grim faces.
The watch was supposed to be a coveted piece of jewelry, a personalized timepiece and a technological marvel all wrapped up into one beautifully engineered package. But the public wasn't behind it. The sales numbers were bad and Tim and the other executives knew something had to give. Although the Apple Watch had quickly grabbed a large portion of the wearable tech market, it was still being outsold by products made by one of Apple's rivals. The small San Francisco-based electronics company Fitbit. Fitbit specialized in wearable products aimed at the fitness markets.
Its devices could track users' workouts, their diet, and their weight through apps which synced with their smartphones. Fitbit's buoyant sales had shown that fitness was a market which Apple could exploit, but the watch, with its advertising focus on high fashion, had failed to take full advantage. During the development of the Apple Watch, the company's head of product marketing, Phil Schiller, had wanted to highlight the fitness feature of the new device. But the product's chief, Johnny Ive, had firmly opposed the move.
Johnny had little personal interest in fitness. It was fashion that excited him and he believed that was the true selling point. But with his new hands-off role as chief design officer, Johnny was no longer in Cupertino to push his perspective. So inspired by the success of their competitor Fitbit, Tim and the other Apple executives decided to center the watch's new marketing on its fitness features. Soon a new advertising strategy was developed.
The initial rollout would be expanded from upmarket boutiques to Apple stores worldwide, and from there to traditional mainstream retailers. The next version of the watch was already under development, with battery improvements and better waterproofing. Apple would also collaborate with Nike on a special sports edition of the second generation device, and they would seek out high-profile athletes to endorse it. But to many the pivot from fashion to fitness seemed to be further proof that under Tim Cook, the tech company no longer embraced innovation.
Whether it was Apple Music in the footsteps of Spotify or the Apple Watch, now treading behind Fitbit, the company seemed content to follow the crowd. Tim was stung by this criticism. He found it unfair. In Tim's mind, he did not believe his company was losing its cutting edge as a creator of new hardware. And that was in large part because Tim, new Apple was working on something special. A secret project that Tim hoped would be as transformational as anything released during Steve Jobs' tenure.
无论是 Apple Music 跟随 Spotify 的步伐,还是 Apple Watch 落后于 Fitbit,公司似乎都满足于跟随众人。蒂姆对此指责感到不满。他认为这是不公平的。在蒂姆的心中,他不认为他的公司正在失去作为新硬件创造者的尖端优势。这在很大程度上是因为蒂姆知道 Apple 正在开发一些特别的东西。这是一项保密的项目,蒂姆希望它能像 Steve Jobs 经营期间发布的一些东西一样具有转型意义。
The company had moved into consumer electronics with the iPod. It had moved into telecommunications with the iPhone. Now it was targeting one of the last large consumer industries it had yet to conquer. Apple was building a core.
From Wondery, this is Episode 3 of the Apple Genius Tim Cook for Business Members. On the next episode, when Apple's top secret car project ends up on a road to nowhere, Tim is forced to chart a new route into the future. Hey, Prime Members, you can listen to Business Movers add free on Amazon Music, download the Amazon Music Cap today. Or you can listen Add Free with Wondery Plus and Apple Podcasts. Before you go, tell us about yourself by completing a short survey at Wondery.com slash survey. If you'd like to learn more about Tim Cook, we recommend After Steve by Trip Mikkel and Haunted Empire, Apple After Steve Jobs by Yukari Iwatami Kane.
This episode contains reenactments and dramatized details. And while in most cases we can't know exactly what was said, all our dramatizations are based on historical research. Business Movers is hosted, edited and executed produced by me, Lindsay Graham for Airship, audio editing and sound design by Molly Bach, music by Lindsay Graham. This episode is written and researched by William Simpson. Executive producers are Stephen Walters for Airship and Aaron O'Flaherty, Jenny Lauer Beckman from Marshall Louis for Wondery.