Benjamin franklin and albert einstein, this is the exclusive biography of steve jobs

Wall Street Journal
proclaiming, 
“Congratulations Chiat/Day—Seriously . . . Because I can guarantee you: there is life after 
Apple.”
Perhaps the greatest similarity to his days at Apple was that Jobs brought with him his reality 
distortion field. It was on display at the company’s first retreat at Pebble Beach in late 1985. There 
Jobs pronounced that the first NeXT computer would be shipped in just eighteen months. It was 
already clear that this date was impossible, but he blew off a suggestion from one engineer that 
they be realistic and plan on shipping in 1988. “If we do that, the world isn’t standing still, the 
technology window passes us by, and all the work we’ve done we have to throw down the toilet,” 
he argued.
Joanna Hoffman, the veteran of the Macintosh team who was among those willing to challenge 
Jobs, did so. “Reality distortion has motivational value, and I think that’s fine,” she said as Jobs 
stood at a whiteboard. “However, when it comes to setting a date in a way that affects the design 
of the product, then we get into real deep shit.” Jobs didn’t agree: “I think we have to drive a stake 
in the ground somewhere, and I think if we miss this window, then our credibility starts to erode.” 
What he did not say, even though it was suspected by all, was that if their targets slipped they 
might run out of money. Jobs had pledged $7 million of his own funds, but at their current burn 
rate that would run out in eighteen months if they didn’t start getting some revenue from shipped 
products.
Three months later, when they returned to Pebble Beach for their next retreat, Jobs began his 
list of maxims with “The honeymoon is over.” By the time of the third retreat, in Sonoma in 
September 1986, the timetable was gone, and it looked as though the company would hit a 
financial wall.
Perot to the Rescue
In late 1986 Jobs sent out a proposal to venture capital firms offering a 10% stake in NeXT for $3 
million. That put a valuation on the entire company of $30 million, a number that Jobs had pulled 
out of thin air. Less than $7 million had gone into the company thus far, and there was little to 
show for it other than a neat logo and some snazzy offices. It had no revenue or products, nor any 
on the horizon. Not surprisingly, the venture capitalists all passed on the offer to invest.
There was, however, one cowboy who was dazzled. Ross Perot, the bantam Texan who had 
founded Electronic Data Systems, then sold it to General Motors for $2.4 billion, happened to 
watch a PBS documentary, 
The Entrepreneurs
, which had a segment on Jobs and NeXT in 
November 1986. He instantly identified with Jobs and his gang, so much so that, as he watched 
them on television, he said, “I was finishing their sentences for them.” It was a line eerily similar 
to one Sculley had often used. Perot called Jobs the next day and offered, “If you ever need an 
investor, call me.”
Jobs did indeed need one, badly. But he was careful not to show it. He waited a week before 
calling back. Perot sent some of his analysts to size up NeXT, but Jobs took care to deal directly 
with Perot. One of his great regrets in life, Perot later said, was that he had not bought Microsoft, 
or a large stake in it, when a very young Bill Gates had come to visit him in Dallas in 1979. By the 

---

time Perot called Jobs, Microsoft had just gone public with a $1 billion valuation. Perot had 
missed out on the opportunity to make a lot of money and have a fun adventure. He was eager not 
to make that mistake again.
Jobs made an offer to Perot that was three times more costly than had quietly been offered to 
venture capitalists a few months earlier. For $20 million, Perot would get 16% of the equity in the 
company, after Jobs put in another $5 million. That meant the company would be valued at about 
$126 million. But money was not a major consideration for Perot. After a meeting with Jobs, he 
declared that he was in. “I pick the jockeys, and the jockeys pick the horses and ride them,” he 
told Jobs. “You guys are the ones I’m betting on, so you figure it out.”
Perot brought to NeXT something that was almost as valuable as his $20 million lifeline: He 
was a quotable, spirited cheerleader for the company, who could lend it an air of credibility among 
grown-ups. “In terms of a startup company, it’s one that carries the least risk of any I’ve seen in 
25 years in the computer industry,” he told the