When I was younger and first started thinking about my future, I decided to either become a professor or start a company. I felt that either option would give me a lot of autonomythe freedom to think from first principles and real-world physics rather than having to accept the prevailing wisdom.
Over time Ive learned, surprisingly, that its tremendously hard to get teams to be super ambitious. It turns out most people havent been educated in this kind of moonshot thinking. They tend to assume that things are impossible, rather than starting from real-world physics and figuring out whats actually possible. Its why weve put so much energy into hiring independent thinkers at Google, and setting big goals. Because if you hire the right people and have big enough dreams, youll usually get there. And even if you fail, youll probably learn something important.
Its also true that many companies get comfortable doing what they have always done, with a few incremental changes. This kind of incrementalism leads to irrelevance over time, especially in technology, because change tends to be revolutionary not evolutionary. So you need to force yourself to place big bets on the future. Its why we invest in areas that may seem wildly speculative, such as self-driving cars or a balloon-powered Internet. While its hard to imagine now, when we started Google Maps, people thought that our goal of mapping the entire world, including photographing every street, would prove impossible. So if the past is any indicator of our future, todays big bets wont seem so wild in a few years time.
These are some of the principles that I think are important, and there are more in the pages that follow. Hopefully you can take these ideas and do some impossible things of your own!
I n July 2003, Eric Schmidt had been the CEO of Google Inc. for two years when he received an email from one of the companys board members and investors, Mike Moritz, a partner at Sequoia Capital. It included a suggestion:
you may want to think about picking a three hour slot in mid-august when the management presents to the board our campaign to compete with finland. (i do not think we should wait until the september meeting. this is far too important a topic and weve all learned that the best way to discover how short a year happens to be is to compete with finland.)
To the uninformed, this note might have been confusing. Why would Google, a several-hundred-employee, five-year-old Internet start-up based in Mountain View, California, be competing with Finland, a country of five million people that was over five thousand miles away and generally considered to be a friendly, peaceful place?
The Finland email arrived just when Eric felt like he was finally settling into Google. He had come from Novell, where he had been the CEO, and had also worked at Sun Microsystems and Bell Labs. After growing up in northern Virginia, he graduated from Princeton with a degree in electrical engineering and received a masters degree and PhD in computer science from the University of California, Berkeley, so not only was he no stranger to working with engineers and computer scientists, he was one. Still, when he got to Google he stepped into a place very different from anywhere else he had been.
His I have a feeling were not in Kansas anymore revelation started on his first day. When he arrived at the office that had been assigned to him, which was already quite modest by big-shot CEO standards, he found that it was occupied by several software engineers. Rather than kicking them out, he decamped to the next office over, which was more of a closet with a window than an actual office.
Then, a few weeks later, it got worse. One morning, as he walked down the hall to his closet office, he noticed that his assistant, Pam Shore, had a troubled look on her face. He soon found out why: He had a new officemate. It was one of the search engineers, Amit Patel, who explained to Eric that his office had five inhabitants, with another on the way, and that his solution of sawing one of the desks in half to make more space hadnt worked. In comparison to his current space, Erics spot seemed quite roomy, so Amit moved in. (The facilities crew had refused to move Amits stuff into Erics office, so he had done it himself.) Amit and Eric ended up sharing the office for several months. Clearly, this was not a measure-your-importance-in-square-feet kind of place.
Beyond the unusual facilities arrangements, the rest of Erics transition into the company was fairly smooth. His relationship with the two founders, Larry Page and Sergey Brin, was strengthening every day. The companys advertising platform, AdWords, was starting to generate significant amounts of revenue (when the company filed for its initial public offering in 2004, the financial statements astonished most observers in a good way), and even though Google as a verb for millions of users Google search was already an important part of everyday life. The company was growing too, adding dozens of employees every month, including a new head of products, Jonathan Rosenberg, who came on board in February of 2002. Jonathan, like Eric, was the son of an economics professor. He joined Google after stints at Excite@Home and Apple, to build up the companys product management team and round out Erics staff.
As Mikes email pointed out, though, there was a major competitor on the horizon, and it wasnt really our Nordic friends across the Atlantic. Finland was our internal code name for Microsoft,
The future of the company was at stake, and what to do was far from obvious. Moritzs note was a call to action. He asked Eric to rally the team and create a plan that would establish clear deliverables across the company: product, sales, marketing, finance, and corporate development. Every aspect of how Google operated was on the table, and there was even talk about transitioning the company from its quirky start-up structure to a more traditional one organized around business units, to make it easier to develop new revenue streams (another thing the new plan was supposed to address). Most important, the plan needed to establish milestones and a roadmap of which products would ship, and when. In short, Moritz wanted what any sensible, normal board member would want: a comprehensive business plan.