Bill Gates is an odd duck. A brilliant businessman who revolutionized an entire industry, made a fortune, and—because of that—became one of the more hated public figures. He’s also a man who left his business behind while still in his prime to devote his life and fortune to improving the lives of others—and became even more hated for doing so.

As someone shaped by a time when Windows wasn’t something ubiquitous that came pre-installed on every computer, but rather something you had to actively obtain and install to make your computer useful, I do feel some sentiment toward the man. Unlike many, I hold Gates in high regard for his achievements in the first part of his career. And as someone who sees the ridiculous inequality in the world and how very little is done by those with virtually unlimited means to reduce it, I admire him even more for the second part of his career.

I was therefore very happy to read Source Code, his newly published autobiography.

Source Code covers only a part of Gates’ life—from birth to the early years of Microsoft. It recounts his formative years in quite some detail1. Beyond individual stories, it shows what it takes to create a person capable of such success.

Imperfect meritocracy

Gates was, in many ways, a privileged kid, with wealthy and educated parents who cared deeply about him. He was very smart, and when a topic caught his attention, he pursued it with incredible diligence. This was evident in many of his early projects and schoolwork—but that alone wouldn’t have guaranteed the level of success he eventually achieved.

Gates also came along at the right time. He was interested in computers when they were still niche, and he saw the massive growth potential as they became miniaturized, portable, and affordable. He placed every bet on this—and won big.

This shows that we do live in a meritocracy—but an imperfect one. One can be hardworking, smart, and diligent—thus possessing the merit of success—but still fail simply due to bad luck. Gates is an example of what happens when all the stars align: when merit meets luck.

Profitable from day one

A large portion of Source Code is devoted to Gates’ college years and, in parallel, the first years of Microsoft. But before diving into that, a short detour.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about startup culture and how it rewards shallowness and reach over impact and longevity. Tech companies are incentivized to grow their user base without regard for monetization. As Peter Thiel outlines in From Zero to One, the typical goal is to capture the market, build a moat, and only then start thinking about profit. The business plan often looks like this:

  1. Build a minimum viable product
  2. Grow grow grow
  3. TBD
  4. Profit

This leads to the now-familiar cycle of enshittification: companies launch with great services and no clear way to make money. Eventually, when reality catches up, they cripple their offerings to the point where they’re either replaced by newer, better-funded startups or become worse than the “old world” companies they were supposed to disrupt.

In light of that, reading Gates’ recollections of Microsoft’s early years is refreshing. It’s clear he launched the company with two mindsets: one of an engineer and one of an accountant. The engineer wanted to build a perfect product; the accountant decided what the engineer would actually do. As a result, Microsoft’s first revenue came from B2B contracts, and their operations were shaped by the need to stay financially viable from the outset.

Even in later years—covered in what I assume will be the second part of Gates’ autobiography—when Microsoft began selling licenses directly to end users, they were still focused on selling a clear, tangible product that customers owned2. That attitude now feels almost extinct, to the detriment of both users and the companies themselves.

Fun but flawed

As a whole, Source Code is an interesting and entertaining read. However, the audiobook narration—which is how I consumed it—is its weakest point.

I rarely come across a truly bad narrator for nonfiction. If the book is solid, most professional narrators will suffice3. That said, I stopped listening to Source Code after just an hour and seriously considered switching to the ebook. Wil Wheaton’s narration is ridiculously dramatic for a book largely made up of plain facts. His chuckling whenever a mildly amusing moment approaches, and the saccharine sweetness in his tone whenever Gates recalls happy childhood memories, was borderline unbearable. I pushed through in the end and probably became immune to it, but I sincerely hope the second volume is narrated by someone less annoying.

Footnotes

  1. The level of detail Gates provides is baffling. He can place memories to specific points in time—like what happened during a particular grade in school. When I recall my own formative memories, I often have no clue whether I was six or ten. Gates can cite exact months—and he’s nearly 40 years older than me. Either his memory is incredible, or his record-keeping is meticulous. ↩

  2. How different is this from the Microsoft of today, which is now deeply entrenched in the “use it for free, then pay monthly or suffer” model? ↩

  3. As I write this, I recall how annoying I found Jordan Peterson’s narration of his now-famous 12 Rules for Life. Then again, I found the book itself infinitely worse than the narration, so that case doesn’t count. ↩