With Gratitude to Steve Jobs

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One of my favorite articles in the rich historic archive of Good Housekeeping issues that line the bookshelves in my office is a lengthy interview with Thomas Alva Edison that was published in October 1912. Titled "The Woman of the Future," Edison explained how the invention of electricity was going to emancipate the women of America so they can achieve their full potential. It was a sign of the times that Edison assumed housework was women's work. But putting that aside, I don't think any of us (male or female) will deny that we're happy not to have to labor over washboards or that our lives have improved because of electric home appliances.

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Since the announcement of his death this week, many people have compared the influence of Steve Jobs, the visionary cofounder of Apple, to the impact of Henry Ford and Thomas Edison. As someone whose digital products caused a global sensation, he is someone whose absence is already being felt deeply, profoundly, and very personally. It's this personal connection with consumers that was particularly unique.

Tributes and testimonials are rightfully lauding how Jobs transformed personal computers, music players, cell phones, mobile communications, and the music industry. But it wasn't just that Jobs transformed product categories; he also transformed people. His products weren't just innovative; they inspired creativity in their users. Jobs made electronics, traditionally considered cold and impersonal, intensely and passionately personal. His genius was to recognize technology's potential as a vehicle for self-expression and develop such thin, light, portable, and intuitive digital products that they became just mere extensions of the self.

Even before he introduced the iPod and iPad—and seemingly everyone started toting their music and photo library as lightly as they carry a wallet or a pair of glasses—Jobs recognized that computers could be customized by users. It's hard to believe now what a revelation it was when Jobs introduced the iMac in a host of appealing colors to choose from. And it's difficult to remember a time when only graphic artists knew about fonts and photo cropping and color saturation. The launch of iphoto, iTunes, and iMovie turned average Americans into graphic artists, djs, filmmakers. When his dad died, my husband, a physician, made a movie—incorporating photos, videos, and music—on his iMac. My 20-something daughters grew up designing unique personalized birthday cards for friends and family on their Apple computers. As a parent and former Editor in Chief of Child magazine, I have seen firsthand how Jobs' creativity-boosting platforms empowered children to discover their visual and musical capabilities and taste.

At a time when it's easy and often legitimate to bemoan the downsides of technology (note Good Housekeeping's recent survey of moms and the large number who text and talk behind the wheel), I can't help but thank Mr. Jobs for being the innovative, in-touch creative "reach for the stars" businessman that he was. He elevated our aesthetic, encouraged our creativity, and empowered all of us to use technology in new, interesting, and expansive ways.