The Pattern
AT&T “You Will” campaign, 1993. Directed by David Fincher, narrated by Tom Selleck.
In 1993, AT&T ran a commercial predicting the future. Video calls. GPS navigation. Movies on demand. A phone on your wrist. Every prediction came true. Every single one was built by someone else. Each ad ended with: “And the company that will bring it to you… AT&T.” They had Bell Labs—the institution that invented the transistor, Unix, and the laser. They saw the future clearly enough to buy a Super Bowl ad about it. Then they spent the next 30 years trying to be a media company and settled for being a utility.
The pattern never changes.
“Come See the Softer Side of Sears” — 1993. 350,000 employees. The original everything store.
In 1994, Sears cancelled their catalog—the original “everything store.” They had the warehouses, the logistics, the customer base. Two years later, Amazon launched from a garage. Sears had the playbook. They let it slip away.
“A Kodak Moment” — 1993. The most iconic brand phrase in America.
Kodak invented the digital camera in 1975. Their competitor Fujifilm faced the same crisis—digital was killing film. Fujifilm looked at the chemistry underneath and pivoted into semiconductor materials. Today they supply nearly half the world’s chip-polishing compounds. Kodak filed for bankruptcy.
Blockbuster Video Christmas ad, 1993. 9,000 stores. Every customer Netflix would ever want.
Blockbuster had 9,000 stores and every customer Netflix wanted. They passed on buying Netflix for $50 million. Yellow Pages had the directory—every business, every phone number. Google built a better one and made it free.
“Let your fingers do the walking” — Yellow Pages, 1982. Every business, every phone number.
Yellow Pages had the directory—every business, every phone number, every local customer relationship in America. Google gave it away for free and made the real money on what came after the search.
Nokia CEO Stephen Elop, 2013. “We didn’t do anything wrong, but somehow we lost.”
Nokia had 50% global market share in 2007. When their CEO announced the sale to Microsoft, he said “we didn’t do anything wrong, but somehow we lost.” They didn’t do anything wrong. They also didn’t do anything.
The technology was never the problem. The identity crisis was.
The Exception
One company proved the rule by breaking it.
Sony Walkman, 1983. 400 million units. Invented portable music.
Apple iPod, 2003. Killed the Walkman. Then Apple killed the iPod.
Sony invented portable music. 400 million Walkmans sold. They had the hardware, the content, and the brand. They couldn’t kill the Walkman because they were the Walkman. Apple had nothing to lose. Four years later, Apple killed its own iPod with the iPhone. On purpose. Sony couldn’t cannibalize their hit product. Apple cannibalized theirs twice.
The willingness to make yourself obsolete is the only moat that matters.
The decline of American newspapers. 150 years of local trust, eaten by Facebook and Google.
Newspapers had 150 years of local relationships, trusted reporting, and a classified ad business that printed money. Facebook gave people a better way to share. Google gave advertisers a better way to reach customers. The newspapers had the audience, the trust, and the distribution. They just couldn’t imagine a world where the news traveled without the paper.
London taxi drivers spent 4 years memorizing 25,000 streets. GPS made it a free app.
The Knowledge. Four years of memorizing every street, every shortcut, every back alley in London. A free app made it irrelevant overnight. The same pattern is playing out right now—accountants, analysts, lawyers, researchers. The skill that took years to build gets compressed into a tool, and the tool gets given to everyone. The question was never whether your job gets deskilled. It’s whether you’re the one holding the new tool.
I’ve spent 20 years watching this play out. The incumbents get comfortable. The founders get hungry. Power shifts.
I cut my teeth in telecom—six companies, multiple turnarounds. Cbeyond, Birch, Xspedius, Airband, Alpheus, Windstream. Chaos was the job. At Cbeyond, I was their #1 rep nationally and watched us go from scrappy startup to IPO.
Then I went to Amazon. Not to coast—to learn. I wanted to see how Big Tech actually operates from the inside. Grew my org from $1B to $3.2B. Built AI-powered systems. Pushed hard. Shipped fast.
And I confirmed what I suspected: They’re stuck.
I love the people at Amazon. Brilliant, hardworking, good humans. But the machine is slowing down. Apple without Jobs. Amazon without Bezos. Big Tech struggles to innovate without founders at the helm. The same vulnerability they exploited in the 2000s? They have it now.
AI is the new catalog. The new film chemistry. The new “You Will” commercial. The founders who grab it will be the next Amazon. The companies that committee-meeting their way through this window will be the next Sears, the next Kodak, the next AT&T—brilliant people who saw the future and still couldn’t build it.
I’m not just writing about this pattern. I’m building the weapon.
