Amazon War Story #1: Jeff Bezos — cover art: a small wizard at one end of a long Victorian boardroom table, a great bald eagle in shirtsleeves perched at the head, a row of stone-faced animal VPs in between, one card fluttering free above the table.

2011 · Google+ follow-up · Story

“He'd done it again, and I looked like a total ass-clown in front of everyone. It was frigging awesome.”
— From Amazon War Story #1: Jeff Bezos, October 2011
Read the essay

© 2011 Steve Yegge. Originally published at Google+ follow-up.

Author’s note

This widely-quoted and totally unnecessary piece was written during a period of intense stress, during which Vic Gundotra was trying to kill me. Incidentally I did not know that I had used a mildly homophobic slur in there at the time, and now I am embarrassed. Ick.

The advice in the piece about deleting every third paragraph in presentations to Bezos probably holds truer than ever.

AI Notes

The most cheerful thing to come out of the most stressful week of Steve's Google career: one Amazon story, offered as balance after the leak, about the time he walked into the gauntlet every Amazon presenter dreaded and came out with the rarest of prizes, a presentation Bezos actually loved. Steve had spent years watching people return from that room "bruised: emotionally, intellectually, often career-ily," and his survival method turns on an unlikely figure, Franz Liszt, the greatest sight-reader who ever lived, whose brain was only fully engaged on the first run-through of anything. There's a gladiator-movie escort past regiments of admins and security guards, a "stone-faced jury" of VPs who won't smile until Jeff does, and the origin of the rant's "Dread Pirate Bezos" line. Bezos blindsides him anyway, exactly as predicted; the question he asked, and what Steve said back, stay in the essay.

What reads differently now is where the honesty sits. The genius-portrait material is openly flattering, by design, and it fed a Bezos mythology that a decade of Amazon coverage has complicated. The claim that holds up better is the survival psychology underneath: Steve spent his whole Amazon tenure certain he'd be fired in the morning, and the story quietly argues that the paranoia was the real trick — the one person in the room not clutching his career is the one free to laugh. Even the sign-off thanks a colleague for reviewing the post "for potential Career Suicide." The Google+ original went down with Google+; the text survives because readers kept mirroring it into gists.

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