Fred Schindler
IMAGE LICENSED BY INGRAM PUBLISHING
When she was about 10 years old, my daughter had a bright pink notebook with lots of unicorns, rainbows, and butterflies on the cover. I’m sure those weren’t the only joyful images on the cover, but they’re the ones I remember. It was appealing to her and lots of her friends. They had plenty of school supplies with similar illustrations. They evoked happiness and optimism—an upbeat perspective on the world.
We’ve all met people who are like that, whose default perspective is positive. They bring that outlook to their lives and work. They want everything to be in the spirit of unicorns, rainbows, and butterflies (URB). I recall one such individual who had become a leader and then wanted the group to embark on a set of projects intended to have beneficial outcomes. This leader had a meeting with the group to get the projects started. There was a vision for each project, but not much else. Being a group of engineers, we all wanted details and plans. But there were next to none. The leader had a vision for what the project would do and assumed everyone would share in that vision. The meeting was a disaster and the projects got off to a slow start.
The ideas were good ones. But lacking plans or buy-in, none came to a successful conclusion. Besides, they weren’t the kinds of projects that would quickly conclude. Most of these topics continue to be pursued in the organization, in one form or another, even though the leader is long gone.
Grand visions are great, and a cheerful outlook can be helpful, but they aren’t enough. We need more than URB. But how do some grand ambitions turn into incredible successes?
Consider the iPhone. It was introduced in 2007 after an intense engineering effort. Steve Jobs had a vision, had people around him to help define that vision, and an intense drive to bring it to reality. Accounts of that development don’t make mention of any unicorns, rainbows, or butterflies.
The iPhone was not the first attempt to develop a smartphone. Nokia was the leading mobile phone manufacturer in 2007, and for numerous prior years. Nokia released its first Communicator mobile phones in 1996 and in 2007 released the fifth generation of the device. The first generation was primitive. The 2007 edition was arguably more capable than the first iPhone. But with its clamshell design and qwerty keyboard was not nearly as elegant.
The IBM Simon was announced in 1993 and released in 1994. It was a personal digital assistant (PDA) with mobile phone connectivity. It could be argued to be the earliest smartphone. It relied on the Advanced Mobile Phone System (AMPS) analog cellular network, so its data rate was modest and could only operate for an hour on battery power. Its form factor was referred to as a brick, which gives you an idea of its weight, bulk, and design appeal. It was taken off the market in 1995.
Another contender was the Sony Magic Link, released in 1994. It was also a PDA with communications capability. Most of the technology was developed by General Magic, a Mountain View, CA, USA, company that spun out of Apple in 1990. The film General Magic makes that case that this was the predecessor to the smartphone. It also shows that the engineers at General Magic had a vision of what a smartphone could be. It’s remarkable to hear them talk in 1992 about capabilities that wouldn’t be realized until 15 years later. They even anticipated the smart watch.
Given the spirit of the General Magic team, as portrayed in the film, there may have been rainbows and butterflies at play. But they were clearly chasing a unicorn.
Visions of creating a smartphone, as we know it today, were premature in the 1990s. The technologies weren’t ready—processing, displays, human interface, communications. The Internet use wasn’t even in common use until later in the decade. The Mosaic browser, for example, was released in 1993. The General Magic engineers may have been visionaries, but they didn’t envision their device being connected to the Internet.
So, a great idea before its time may not have a great outcome. But when Apple started to develop its iPhone, the times were nearly ready. Still, it was ambitious. Much has been written about Steve Jobs’ “reality distortion field” in which he convinced himself and those around him that the seemingly impossible was possible. Was there a spirit of URB? They worked hard and were unified in their mission, so maybe.
Elizabeth Holmes tried to employ the “reality distortion field” at Theranos, a company that claimed it would revolutionize blood testing and health care. She was convicted of fraud last year and is currently serving time in a U.S. prison. The reality distortion field may have worked for Steve Jobs and the iPhone, but the vision of the iPhone was based in some reality. The Theranos device turned out to be as mythical as a unicorn. Maybe a basilisk is a more apt comparison.
I’ve worked on ambitious projects, some with success. I can think of one in particular where we had a great team, and an ambitious objective, but we knew it was possible. We worked hard and made good progress. The spirit of the team was good. It wasn’t exactly URB, but it was invigorating and satisfying. Even with the best and most satisfying work, feelings of joy are rare.
I’ve seen the occasional rainbow, and they tend to bring feelings of joy. Butterflies are more common, and also enjoyable to watch. But they aren’t nearly as attractive before they form their chrysalis. I’ve never seen a unicorn, at least not a real one, and I’m sure you haven’t either. For some projects, the objective is a unicorn, but for others it just seems that way. The smartphone concept was a unicorn in 1994, but not in 2007. Maybe, with time, unicorns can become real.
Digital Object Identifier 10.1109/MMM.2023.3294877