But what truly devastated Jobs was that he was not, after all,

But what truly devastated Jobs was that he was not, after all,

chosen as the Man of the Year. As he later told me:

Time decided they were going to make me Man of the Year, and I was

twenty-seven, so I actually cared about stuff like that. I thought it was

 

pretty cool. They sent out Mike Moritz to write a story. We’re the same age,

and I had been very successful, and I could tell he was jealous and there was

an edge to him. He wrote this terrible hatchet job. So the editors in New

 

York get this story and say, “We can’t make this guy Man of the Year.” That really

hurt. But it was a good lesson. It taught me to never get too excited about things

like that, since the media is a circus anyway. They FedExed me the magazine, and

I remember opening the package, thoroughly expecting to see my mug on the cover,

and it was this computer sculpture thing. I thought, “Huh?” And then I read

the article, and it was so awful that I actually cried.

In fact there’s no reason to believe that Moritz was jealous or that he intended his

reporting to be unfair. Nor was Jobs ever slated to be Man of the Year, despite what

he thought. That year the top editors (I was then a junior editor there) decided early

on to go with the computer rather than a person, and they commissioned, months in

advance, a piece of art from the famous sculptor George Segal to be a gatefold cover image.

Ray Cave was then the magazine’s editor. “We never considered Jobs,” he said. “

You couldn’t personify the computer, so that was the first time we decided to go

 

with an inanimate object.

We never searched

around for a face to

be put on the cover.”

www.goshlf419.com