Evan Williams

Evan Williams showed an entrepreneurial instinct from a very young age. This has been reflected in several business ideas he pursued in his teens. One classic example was the idea to make a VHS tape to explain how the Internet worked. The Internet was still new back then, so he spent a summer driving around and trying to convince local businesses to buy a copy of his tape.

However, the real journey started after dating a girl named Meg Hourihan. She was an energetic software engineer and shared his passion for computers. Although their love affair did not last long, they started a business venture, Pyra Labs, and set off with a small group of friends to develop software for workplace productivity. While working on this business, Williams created an internal diary website to help the team stay updated about their work process. This trivial project soon became more ambitious when he decided to launch it to the public and call it Blogger. It was 1999, so website blogs were relatively novel but soon flourished as a success.

Meanwhile, Meg was concerned that Williams did not have the skills to run a business because most of his paperwork was piling up, and bills were going unpaid. A mini power struggle quickly ensued. Meg wanted to take the lead, but Williams refused to step down. Finally, the five-person Pyra team disbanded, leaving him friendless, single, and running a business out of his living room. However, he had a vision. “Blogger” was equivalent to having a personal newspaper. You could post about your life and events and even share your opinions with the rest of the world.

By 2002, Blogger grew enough to expand with a small group of software engineers and housed nearly a million people’s blogs worldwide. In February 2003, Google Inc. bought Blogger for millions of dollars, so Williams, who was so broke he could barely afford to eat, would become so rich he would never have to worry about a meal again.

Eventually, Williams co-founded Twitter and soon turned into a success. Twitter was a social network platform, like Facebook, where people could share content and photos of their lives. Many things have changed since the days of Blogger, but one thing remained: his vision that people should have their voice reachable to the rest of the world. With Twitter, media was no longer in the hands of media houses only; it was in the hands of everyone. Many celebrities asked for equity on Twitter in exchange for money, but Williams politely said each time to the rich and famous who were never told no, “No.” For him, it was never about the money or the celebrities. It always went back to his vision of developing something that gave people from nowhere the same equal voice as those from somewhere. His worst test came when Facebook also made a lucrative offer. Since Williams owned a significant stake in Twitter, he would become a billionaire if he agreed to sell it. However, it was not about the money for William; it was about protecting the sanctity of Twitter and giving a voice to the people who used it.

No amount of money could convince Williams to accept Facebook’s offer. Twitter and Facebook were organisations with two very different visions. Twitter’s vision had been cemented when Williams founded Blogger almost a decade earlier, forming his unwavering belief that Blogger, and then Twitter, should offer people a microphone that allowed them to say whatever came to mind. It was the same reason he hired Alexander “Amac” Macgillivray, the staunch proponent of free and open speech on the Internet while at Google Inc., as Twitter’s counsel. Both believed that social networks like Twitter, first and foremost, should be a mouthpiece for everyday people. Williams explained that Twitter’s vision was to enable “push-button publishing for the people.” It was Blogger’s motto and meant anyone could publish whatever they wanted.

Around 2012, when Twitter was at its most Twittery, executives called the organisation “the free-speech wing of the free-speech party.” This was the era when Twitter was credited for amplifying the Occupy Wall Street movement and the Arab Spring, when it seemed like giving everyone a microphone could bring down right the wrongs of neoliberal capitalism and dictatorships. That moment, which coincided with the rise of Facebook and YouTube, inspired utopian visions of how social networks could promote democracy and human rights worldwide.

Of course, when more than one person establishes the business venture, vision often comes with different versions. Four individuals co-founded Twitter; two of them struggled for power. For Jack Dorsey, Twitter’s vision was to provide a place to tell stories about yourself and reflect a “what are you doing?” status. In contrast, Williams’ vision was about telling stories about other people, more akin to blogging, and representing the “What is happening?” status. Ultimately, the organisation’s vision became a mix of all the co-founder's visions, and those who can pull the most through the power and influence of their vision will become more visible than the others. Indeed, when Dorsey took over William’s helm as CEO, it became no wonder that Twitter amplified the narcissistic trait because it delivered the “microphone” to speak more about yourself.

Nonetheless, both co-founders were instrumental in what Twitter had become. The perfect equilibrium of two different ways of looking at the world: the need to talk about yourself and let people talk about what was happening around them. Twitter became a tool that could be used by corporate titans and teens, by celebrities and nobodies, by government officials and revolutionaries. It became a place where people with fundamentally different world views, like Dorsey and Williams, could converse.

Twitter’s co-founder Evan Williams had always recalled that Twitter’s vision was to give a “push-button publishing for the people.” It gave people a “microphone” to amplify their voices. What he failed to state, however, was that victors become the ones with the loudest voices who get to tell their version of history. Many people say that Williams and Jack Dorsey are the co-founders of Twitter. Although this is true, it is only partially so.

It was a warm summer afternoon in 2002 when William’s neighbour, Noah Glass, yelled at him from the balcony. He recognised Williams’ photo in one of Forbes’ magazines. He did not realise that his neighbour was the same entrepreneur who became a mini-celebrity from a business venture called Blogger. Glass was also a tech enthusiast, so they soon became close friends. They were two polar opposite neighbours, Glass mostly speaking while Williams mostly listening. Still, their friendship grew and intertwined, moving from their home porches to coffees at nearby cafés, lunches down the street, and late-night parties, and before long, they spent more time together than apart.

Glass had since taken his pirate radio project and refocused to work with Williams, writing an application called AudBlog, which allowed anyone to post a voice-based post to a blog from a phone. Google Inc.’s acquisition of Blogger changed Glass’ plans. Before long, through discussions with friends, Glass decided to turn AudBlog into a start-up, and as soon as Williams was cashing out his money from Google’s acquisition, Glass asked if he was interested in investing a few thousand dollars to help kick-start the idea.

“I’m happy to,” Williams said sincerely, “but I really appreciate our friendship and don’t want me investing or us working together to affect us being friends.” Williams had been down this road before, losing his friends when previous business ventures, Pyra Labs and Blogger, had imploded a few years earlier. However, Glass convinced Williams to become his investor and get started. Glass took off on the project into a business venture. It was an audio-blogging service called Odeo. Yet, Williams’ warning was correct. By asking a friend to invest, Glass made two major mistakes. First, he lost power over his business venture since William became an investor and thus owned the business. Secondly, he would lose a friend if disagreements persisted.

William dictated who Glass could get on board. He also peppered him with questions occasionally. Glass was indebted to William for the money that had so far financed Odeo, so he had no choice but to answer them. If it was not enough to realise that business can ruin a friendship, Glass approached Williams again, asking for two hundred thousand dollars to take Odeo into a more serious project. The latter agreed but only on one condition: Williams becomes CEO of the organisation. It was not a coup but assurance, and Glass accepted. Williams had no interest in podcasting, but he had started to enjoy the label given to him by bloggers and the media: that he was one of those new up-and-coming tech pioneers who had helped take blogging mainstream. Now, here was an opportunity to do the same for podcasting.

Since Glass and William had different personalities and leadership styles, leading a business venture with two contrasting leaders was an inevitable disaster. They were odds at everything. Glass was impulsive, loud, and sociable. Williams was quiet, non-confrontational, and observant. They could not even agree on a date to launch Odeo.

Meanwhile, Apple Inc. announced that its latest iPod would feature podcasting. This announcement was a death sentence for Odeo. One of their employees, Jack Dorsey, came up with a very exciting idea that could save William’s reputation and Glass’ organisation: people could show their status on their blog, such as posting a photo of the meals they cooked or events they attended on their blog, and these statuses eventually became visible on social media platform so other people who also form part of it could see it. Glass was instrumental in turning this idea and helped shift Odeo into a different business venture named Twitter. However, Williams was no longer the only one disgruntled with Glass. The other one was Dorsey.

Williams was already torn over what to do about Glass’ outbursts and media hijacking, and Dorsey helped him decide. One afternoon, Dorsey asked Williams to speak privately and not to tell Glass about their conversation. He confessed that Glass was interfering with Twitter and that he could no longer work with him. Then, Dorsey threw the gauntlet: “If Noah stays, I’m going to leave. I can’t work with him anymore.” Dorsey was becoming a valuable asset for Twitter, so the conversation was like a threat: get rid of Glass or lose Twitter’s critical employee. If there was any hope for Williams’ friendship with Glass, this conversation was the cherry on the cake.

After conferring with the board, Williams approached Glass to announce his decision. “I won’t fucking leave,” Glass barked as they sat on the bench. He then spun into a tirade, insinuating that Williams was rarely present and that he was overseeing Twitter and doing his part like everyone else. However, Williams had already decided. This decision counted more than Glass’ protestation since he was the CEO and a significant investor.

To Williams’ surprise, Glass did not retaliate after their conversation. It was not the power that he was after. More than fame and fortune, he just wanted friends. Glass resigned two weeks later, faced with no choice and no one in his corner. He stopped by the desolate office on a Saturday afternoon, packed his life into cardboard boxes, and let the beige door slam behind him, no longer an employee of the business venture he helped start.

Some months later, Glass had come to South by Southwest – an award conference for the best start-up in the blog category – and bumped into his former friends at Twitter. After chatting for a while, Williams had made a peace offering. “Hey, Noah, would you like to sit with us?” he asked. His offer looked like an atonement. “Sure, that’d be great,” Glass replied. “I’d like that.” However, the offer did not last for long. The conference presenter announced Twitter as the winner. Glass whistled and clapped with cheer when he heard the announcement. Yet, his happiness was diluted in seconds as Williams, Dorsey and some others rose from their seats, squeezed past Glass as if he was just another conference attendee and then waded through the ocean of applause and up the staircase to the stage.

Glass was dismayed as he wandered the halls briefly after the awards. He quickly decided to be happy for his friends' new success rather than harbour resentment at not being invited to join his former co-workers on stage. Off he went, trudging toward the after-party, and he soon caught a glimpse of the Twitter crew from the corner of the room. As he approached Dorsey, Glass reached out to shake hands, his mouth opening to offer congratulations. Yet when he was a few feet away from his friend, co-founder Biz Stone swooped in and placed his arm around Dorsey as he spun them around and, in another direction, to pose for a photo.

Glass was left standing in a room full of people, his arm at a forty-five-degree angle, as if shaking hands with an invisible man. Dorsey, Stone, and Williams then slipped off into a side room as more people asked to take their photos. Glass, devastated by what had just happened, left the party. He wandered alone in the rain just a few blocks away as his former friends and cofounders toasted to the award they had just won without him.

Evan Williams has good qualities when it comes to running an organisation. It was not surprising that he was Twitter’s CEO. For sure, he was very kind to his friends who worked there. He had been generous with his money. In the early days of Twitter, an employee’s house had been robbed; thieves tore down the front door and took some valuable possessions. When Williams found out, he quietly pulled this employee aside, handed him his credit card, and told him to replace everything stolen without expecting anything in return. He had done the same for co-founder Biz Stone, who had run out of money; he wrote a cheque for fifty thousand dollars to help cover his bills and mortgage payments. However, Williams had one major flaw: he always had difficulty making decisions, and the process was too slow when he did decide.

Going back in 1996 to one of his early business ventures, Plexus flopped because Williams took too long to decide. He knew that Plexus did not fail because it did not have enough work. Quite the opposite. It had cracked because he would come in each week and announce a new project to his team, and when they finally focused on a single project, he could not decide when to release it.

Even when Twitter was Odeo and still in the process of launching, Glass was eager to launch the website, whereas Williams kept postponing. Their employee Rabble decided to take the website live and launch it. Their business venture may have launched much longer than expected if it was up to Williams. Of course, this flaw may not impact a start-up like Odeo much because the CEO position is just a title. However, for a CEO running a multi-million-dollar organisation with hundreds of employees and millions of customers, delaying decisions is a serious problem.

There was a power vacuum when Glass left Twitter despite Williams taking his place. For example, when Jason Goldman asked Williams to join Twitter, the latter directed him to Dorsey: “You’ll have to come in and spend some time with Jack, and we’ll see.” So, Goldman did just that and started wooing Dorsey, stopping by the Twitter offices to talk his way into joining. “It’s really up to Ev,” Dorsey explained. “You have to talk to him.” As Goldman soon learned, this run-around was typical for Twitter. Even when Williams decided to remove Glass from Twitter, it had to be Dorsey to give him an ultimatum. Although Williams wanted Glass out as much as Dorsey did, he kept prolonging the decision.

One incident was the cherry on the cake. While Williams was Twitter’s CEO, UberMedia had been building and buying several third-party Twitter applications, including some big-name Twitter apps called Echofon and Twidroyd. UberMedia was managed by a shrewd businessperson, Bill Gross, who was on the verge of buying another app, arguably one of the largest, called TweetDeck. Gross had a much bigger plan than acquiring third-party Twitter clients. Gross planned to build a Twitter clone that could be used to divert people away from Twitter to an entirely new service, one where Gross could make money on advertising. He had also developed a business relationship with Ashton Kutcher and hoped to bring him into this new venture.

When employees Ali Rowghani and Dick Costolo found out about the TweetDeck deal, they realised that such a sale would give Gross ownership of 20 per cent of all Twitter’s clients. Ali and others wanted to buy TweetDeck before UberMedia would. Williams could not decide. He got stuck wondering if TweetDeck's acquisition would be worth spending tens of millions of dollars. One moment, Williams agreed to buy the app, and the next, he changed his mind, stalling the decision again.

When Williams made enemies and Twitter grew drastically, his flaw started to haunt him. Rightly so, his enemy Dorsey was plotting a coup against him to take his position as CEO, and Williams’ slow decision-making was the chink in his armour. Williams had thought about removing Dorsey completely from Twitter numerous times. However, although he came close several times, he had always postponed from deciding. His reluctance to make decisions became his demise.

Evan William’s tenure as Twitter’s CEO lasted only two years. He was a significant investor, business savvy, and had a good reputation for making millions of dollars with his previous organisation, Blogger. Despite co-founding it together, he had enough power to remove Noah Glass from Twitter and even remove co-founder Jack Dorsey as CEO. Of course, you can never climb the ladder without a few enemies. Then, to stay at the helm, you must keep your friends close but your enemies closer. Yet, more crucial is to realise who your friends and enemies are.

Rightly so, with Williams’ hesitation to make decisions and for Twitter’s potential, the board, at one of its members Peter Fenton’s urgings, encouraged him to find a mentor and guide him. Fenton also found Bill Campbell, who mentored Steve Jobs and other famous CEOs. As the first mentoring session approached, Williams was thirty-seven years old and excited to learn from this legendary coach, Campbell. During the session, he asked one of his first questions: “What’s the worst thing I can do as CEO to fuck the company up?” Without skipping a beat, Campbell responded: “Hire your fucking friends!” Indeed, one of the reasons Fenton had been pushing for a mentor was William’s insistence on hiring friends at Twitter. Campbell spent a ten-minute tirade about friendship and business and how these two cannot mix. After all, Williams was friends with Glass and Dorsey before they turned bitter. Campbell impressed Williams, so they agreed to meet once a week, and Fenton was glad about this.

Still, Williams reasoned that his friends would never betray him, and there was one last person he wanted to hire: his good friend Dick Costolo, whom he had met at Google a few years earlier. He wanted Costolo to become Twitter’s Chief Operating Officer. The board was initially reluctant, but after some interviews, they approved Evan’s choice. In early September 2009, the day before Dick arrived for his first day of work, he sent his first tweet. This was a joke that made people laugh, including Williams. “First full day as Twitter COO tomorrow,” he wrote. “Task #1: undermine CEO, consolidate power.” However, it would later haunt him.

A few months later, Williams attended one of his usual mentoring sessions and received terrible news from his mentor: “The board wants you to step up to the chairperson role,” said Campbell. “The board is going to make Dick CEO… they want you to step down.” Williams contacted some board members, who confirmed the news: they needed a new type of CEO who could focus on revenue and take Twitter public. When he also called Costolo, the latter was dumbfounded about the news. It was not completely true, but it was not completely false, either.

Some weeks earlier, Fenton, Dorsey, and other influential persons from Twitter had held a secret meeting and agreed to remove Williams as CEO. They also agreed to replace him with Costolo as interim CEO until they found a suitable replacement. Then, there was the second meeting, where they told Costolo part of their plan: he was being picked, they explained, because the employees trusted him, and he could help as transitional CEO until they found a permanent replacement.

Costolo accepted on the condition that they execute it tactfully and determine how to tell Williams, so it would seem that Costolo was pushing him out of Twitter to take over. However, their plan vanished into smoke when Campbell delivered the wrong message. He knew about this plan for months and agreed to be the person to break the news to Williams, but he was not supposed to mention Costolo’s part of the plan. The plan went awry, so Costolo got caught between friendship and business amid the ousting of his friend. However, the power of love often turns into the love of power when money is involved. Rightly so, Williams was forced to resign as CEO so that Costolo would take his place, at least momentarily.

As the lawyers explained, there were seven board seats at the time. Fred Wilson, Bijan Sabet, and Fenton were going to vote to remove Williams. Goldman, Williams himself, and even Costolo would vote against this removal. Which left the one deciding vote: Dorsey. Williams soon realised that Dorsey must have conspired against him, but he was blindsided. In the previous months, he buried his head inside Twitter’s redesign, ignoring most of the daily chores of a CEO, which means keeping an eye on the power dynamics and relationships. He was no longer paying attention to who was indeed his friend, who could be a potential threat, and who was genuinely loyal.

Of course, realising that Dorsey would plot against him was not a surprise; Williams took his position as CEO. However, perhaps, since Costolo was Williams’ friend, the latter did not expect it or prepare himself for any possible coup. As he reasoned before, he recruited friends because they would never betray him – except that he was wrong. When you choose your friends, the problem is not that friends are far more prone to betray you. The problem is that you are prone to take off your guard and refuse to believe that betrayal may occur.