Steve Jobs, I think it’s fair to say, looks at Apple products as works of art, as little functional sculptures aimed at giving aesthetic pleasure as well as utilitarian benefit. That’s why it pains him so deeply to have people hack into his machines and fiddle with their guts. When a customer “opens” an iPhone, the act doesn’t just complicate Apple’s business relationship with AT&T and the phone’s other exclusive carriers; it stands as a personal affront to Jobs. It’s an assault on the integrity of his artifact.<\/p>\n
In many ways, I admire Jobs’s stance. Much of Apple’s success in creating products that people actually want to buy and use – and to be seen buying and using – can be traced to his, and his staff’s, artist-like passion for the made thing. Jobs doesn’t kow-tow to the “user”; he knows that democratization, when it comes to product development, is just a pretty term for mediocritization. But my admiration is tempered by the sense that Jobs is a megalomaniac who, while treating his own creations with obsessively loving care, seems to have little respect for the integrity of the creations of others, at least when that integrity conflicts with his own immediate business interests.<\/p>\n
Consider Radiohead. You won’t find the band’s music in the iTunes store. Why? Because Radiohead refuses to allow its records to be sold piecemeal, by the track. Either you buy the whole album or you buy nothing. That runs counter to Jobs’s fiat that all music on iTunes be unbundled and sold by the song as well as by the album.<\/p>\n
You can applaud Radiohead’s lonely stance, or you can, as Crunchgear recently did, dismiss<\/a> the band as “a bunch of crybabies.” Either way, you have to grant that Radiohead is the creator of its music and has the right to sell that music in whatever way it wants. And you have to admit that Radiohead’s motivation in protecting what it sees as the integrity of its works is no different from Jobs’s motivation in protecting what he sees as the integrity of his products.<\/p>\n