A professor of mine recently forwarded a speech delivered many years ago at the World Economic Forum by the late Sumantra Ghoshal of the London Business School called “The Smell of the Place.”
In it, Ghoshal presents business leaders with a remedy to revitalize their workforces. He bases his argument on the fact that individuals rarely, if ever, fundamentally change. So instead of asking the question of how to make people work harder as a means of existing, it is the role of managers to create the right environments to inspire them.
The right “smell” corrects the context in which people engage with one another, pushing them to work harder and more creatively, not because they are asked, but because something intangible — a vibe, if you will — inspires them. To illustrate his metaphor, Ghoshal invokes the springtime freshness of the forests of Fontainebleau in France and contrasts it to the hot, tired summers of his birthplace in Kolkata.
A couple weeks ago, I purchased a last-minute ticket to see Bill Gates speak with actor Dax Shepard at the Curran Theatre in San Francisco. The talk centered on the release of the first of a planned three-volume set of memoirs covering Gates’s early life, time at Microsoft and philanthropy.
“‘Source Code’ is about my life before Microsoft,” Gates said in an introductory montage.
I watched as he reveled in various memories of his childhood. He spoke fondly of adventures he went on with his friends and fellow Boy Scouts, which his mother had him join to reconcile his social awkwardness.
He spoke plainly about privilege — Bill Gates grew up comfortably, attending the private Lakeside School in Seattle. In the fall of his sophomore year, Lakeside got a computer. He offered the obligatory memories of learning to program the machine, but more important, it seemed, were the stories of those around him.
Those who underestimated him, who thought his awkwardness would be his demise and sought to send him back grade levels in math. He talked about the teachers throughout his life who disagreed on what to make of him, and how that was how he knew he was different.
So, he made friends who were different, if nevertheless unlike him. He spoke about his favorite, Kent Evans. “I still remember his phone number,” Gates said.
Kent was 17 years old when he died in a mountain climbing accident. Along with Ric Weiland and Paul Allen, they had bonded over early computing experiments at Lakeside.
His death brought Gates and Allen, who was a few years his senior, closer. Navigating grief and friendship, both of which came unnaturally to Gates, Allen’s “deep conceptual thinking” led to a bond between the two.
Though their next story is legendary, that wasn’t the point, Gates reiterated. Turning 70 this year, he is the last remaining member of his Lakeside pack.
After Kent, Ric died by suicide fighting HIV in 2006. And Paul, of cancer in 2018.
I reckon Gates hoped the audience would read between the lines. When it’s all said and done, their legacy was less Microsoft and the wealth it left in its wake, and more the “smell” that gave it way.
Gates’s truest companions, who knew him first as the quirky kid who coped with loss and, not for a lack of trying, struggled socially and with girls, were responsible for the context in which his company and subsequent billions were born.
Ghoshal framed his theory for business managers. A good corporate culture is important to inspire innovative solutions to corporate issues, sure, but what Gates’s story proves is that its principle applies elsewhere.
There is a smell to the world we build for ourselves each day. “Source Code” is a case study of Ghoshal’s theory: that creating the smell for tomorrow takes embracing today — without borrowed worry from the future.
The Microsoft story is canonized in the lore of 20th century entrepreneurship. It is one of quintessential financial and scientific success. But I hadn’t heard this particular chapter before.
It is the prerequisite to Gates’s more famous wealth and influence, but first, it’s a story of preserving the fresher, more energizing smells in life.
The Boy Scouts created a smell for Gates. As did his teachers, who he doesn’t begrudge.
“Source Code” is about Ric and Paul and Kent. It’s about unlikely friendship, an unexpected loss and what they ultimately yielded: the smell, created in a computer lab, that changed civilization forever.
Aidan Klineman is a Medill sophomore. He can be contacted at aidanklineman2027@u.northwestern.edu. If you would like to respond publicly to this op-ed, send a Letter to the Editor to opinion@dailynorthwestern.com. The views expressed in this piece do not necessarily reflect the views of all staff members of The Daily Northwestern.