In late 1998, when Marissa Mayer first heard about a small outfit called
Google, she barely batted an eye. The Stanford University grad student was urged
by her adviser to pay a visit to two guys on the computer science building's
fourth floor who were developing ways to analyze the World Wide Web.
But Internet startups were as common as hay fever in Silicon Valley. Mayer,
then 23, was leaning toward taking a teaching gig at Carnegie Mellon University.
And the thought of joining up with the university's techies wasn't exactly
appealing. "I knew about the Stanford PhD types," she muses.
"They love to Rollerblade. They eat pizza for breakfast. They don't
shower much. And they don't say 'Sorry' when they bump into you in the
hallway."
Fortunately for both Google and Mayer, she had a change of heart. A
headhunter persuaded her to reconsider the search startup, and she ended up
joining Google in early 1999, as a programmer and roughly its 20th employee.
Since then, Mayer has emerged as a powerful force inside the high-flying
company. Her title, director of consumer Web products, belies her power and
influence as a champion of innovation. Mayer has her hands on virtually
everything the average Google user sees-from the look of its Web pages to new
software for searching your hard drive. And she helps decide which new
initiatives get the attention of the company's founders and which don't.
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It's no small task. Co-founders Larry E Page and Sergey Brin have long
declared their mission is to "organize the world's information." Yet
only in recent months has the staggering scope of their ambition come into full
relief. Google is moving to digitize the world's libraries, to offer all
comers free voice calls, to provide satellite images of the world, and perhaps
to give away wireless broadband service to millions of people. Google really
seems to believe it can make every bit of information available to anyone
anywhere, and direct all those bits-whether text, audio, or video-through
its computers before they hit users' brains.
Rocket Ride
Mayer doesn't handle all this herself. One of the key reasons for Google's
success is a belief that good ideas can, and should, come from anywhere. Page
and Brin insist that all engineers in the company have one day a week to work on
their own pet projects. An ideas mailing list is open to anyone at Google who
wants to post a proposal. What Mayer does is help figure out how to make sure
good ideas bubble to the surface and get the attention they need. The task is
becoming more complex as Google grows, with a workforce of 4,200 now and
revenues on track to hit $3.7 bn this year.
It's increasingly important, too. Google's rocket ride has attracted a
swarm of competitors, from giants Microsoft and Yahoo! to upstarts like
Technorati and Exalead. They're all aiming to take away a chunk of Google's
search traffic, which puts a premium on the company's ability to develop other
technologies. "People are used to typing in Google to search," says
Chris Sherman, editor of the industry newsletter SearchDay. "But its
competitors are doing a really good job of rolling out quality features and
products." Microsoft Corp has even explored taking a stake in America
Online Inc so that it can claim for itself the millions in revenues that Google
gets from providing AOL with its search technology.
The woman charged with helping come up with Google's response is a tall,
striking blonde with blue eyes. At 30, Mayer still carries herself with the
erect posture of the ballet dancer she was in her youth. She grew up in Wausau,
Wis, a city of 40,000 about 3 1/2 hours northwest of Milwaukee. She aspires to
live up to the example of her grandfather, who served as mayor of Jackson, Wis,
for 30 years, despite being crippled by polio as a child.
In Wausau, Mayer was one of the top debaters on her high school team. Then
the brainy teenager decided to try out for pom-pom squad and made that team,
too. To some who knew her, Mayer was making a point. "She wanted to smash
the image of the airhead cheerleader," says Jim Briggs, Mayer's
high-school debate coach. Her debate team ended up winning the Wisconsin state
championship; her pom-pom squad was the state runner-up.
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A large part of Mayer's success at Google is due to her ability to travel
easily between different worlds. When she first joined, the company had
something of a high-school cliquishness, albeit in reverse. At lunch, the
coolest kids-in this forum, the smartest geeks-sat together. On the
periphery, sales and marketing folks gathered. Mayer could hold her own in
either realm. "She's a geek, but her clothes match," says one former
employee.
Mayer continues to bridge the gap between MBAs and PhDs. She helps decide
when employees' pet projects are refined enough to be presented to the company's
founders. Such decisions are often made through an established process, with
Mayer giving ideas a hearing during her open office hours or during
brainstorming sessions. Yet she is also good at drawing out programmers
informally, during a chance meeting in the cafeteria or hallway.
During a casual chat in 2003, a worker told her about the project of an
Australian engineer, Steve Lawrence. He was developing a program to track and
search the contents of his computer, which ran on the Linux operating system.
Knowing Google had to figure out a way for people to find stuff on their own
computers, Mayer tracked Lawrence down and asked him about developing a version
of his software to search any PC. He was enthusiastic, so she helped assemble a
team to work with him. The result: Google introduced its desktop search in
October, 2004, two months before Microsoft. "Marissa has been very
successful as the gatekeeper for a lot of these new products," says Craig
Silverstein, director of technology at Google.
Part of Mayer's challenge is realizing when certain formulas falter. For
years she ran the company's Top 100 priorities list, which ranked projects by
order of importance. But as Google's workforce grew, the list soared to more
than 270 projects. Last year Google execs decided it had run its course, and
shut it down. "People don't get attached to the processes themselves at
Google," says Bret Taylor, product manager for Google Maps. "It's
very unusual. Even at small companies, people tend to say: 'This is the way we
do X."'
Mayer's typical workday starts at 9 am and doesn't end until about
midnight. Her glass-walled office is intentionally situated across from the
engineering snack area, where programmers grab evening coffee or munchies. Often
on these late nights, engineers will bend her ear as they take a breather from
their work, bringing her up to date on the countless ideas percolating through
the ranks. "I keep my ears open. I work at building a reputation for being
receptive," she says.
This theory is in action on a sunny Friday afternoon in September. Mayer
walks around her office, shared with an assistant and two other employees.
Outside the door, seven or eight programmers and product managers have been
milling about since 3:30. Most wear jeans, tennis shoes, and checkered or
striped shirts, all untucked. Some pace the hall and talk quietly on their cell
phones. Others sit on chairs, their arms folded, waiting patiently.
Office Hours
At 4 pm, her three-times-a-week office hours begin. It's a tradition Mayer
brought over from her days at Stanford, where she taught computer science to
undergrads. Over the years, such meetings have spawned some big ideas, including
Google's social-networking site Orkut.
First to enter her office are a pair of techies-a man and woman in their
mid-20s. Sitting across from Mayer, separated by a desk with a Dilbert coffee
mug and a toy robot still in its box, they forgo the pleasantries and launch
into hushed banter. The duo is stumped over which languages the Google Web site
should be available in. Although it is already translated into more than 115
tongues, from Arabic to Zulu, they wonder whether they should proceed with more
obscure choices. Before one minute elapses, Mayer interjects. Google shouldn't
be the arbiter on languages. Just include anything considered legitimate by a
third-party source, such as the CIA World Fact Book, she says. "We don't
want to make a large geopolitical statement by accident."
In ones or twos, all the visitors get a brief hearing, typically five
minutes. She gently rebuffs one group seeking to put a link to Hurricane Katrina
information on Google's home page. The site for hurricane victims, she argues,
isn't useful enough yet. She brainstorms with a product manager on how to
measure and compare the freshness of Google's search results against its
rivals'.
One of the final groups marches in to discuss a personalized search product.
Many pundits describe personalization as the Holy Grail in search. An engine
that knows your preferences and interests intimately could tailor the
information delivered to improve results. Google has been offering rudimentary
personalization for a year, but more is expected in the future. With two people
in Mayer's office and another on speaker phone, she grills the trio about the
service's name. She's not enthusiastic about the initial suggestions.
"You're killing me," she says.
After a few minutes of discussion, Mayer presses the group on the product's
features. Google's top brass is having its next product-review session
shortly, in which nascent ideas get either fast-tracked or sent back for further
tinkering. So Mayer asks the big question: "OK, let's take it to Larry
that they're set to go.
What Mayer thinks will be essential for continued innovation is for Google to
keep its sense of fearlessness. "I like to launch
often. That has become my mantra," she says. She mentions Apple Computer
and Madonna. "Nobody remembers the Sex Book or the Newton. Consumers
remember your average over time. That philosophy frees you from fear."
It's just one way Mayer tries to maintain the search company's original
culture. That's no easy task. Movie night, for instance, used to be a piece of
cake when perhaps 100 employees descended on a local cinema. Today, organizing
such an event is a full-time job. Yet Mayer handles several of these a year,
from picking a movie with the right geek cred (say, Star Wars: Episode III) to
ordering thousands of tickets to writing the software that lets her track who
has received them. "She still walks around with a laptop, handing out all
the tickets beforehand," marvels Google's Silverstein.
It makes sense for Mayer to stay in such close touch with the swelling ranks
of Googlers. She may need every one of their bright ideas to keep the search
giant ahead of the competition.
By Ben Elgin in Mountain View, Calif in New York in BusinessWeek. Copyright 2005 by The McGraw-Hill
Companies, Inc
How Google Innovates
The search leader has earned a reputation as one of the most innovative
companies in the world of technology. A few of the ways Google hatches new
ideas:
Free (Thinking) Time
Google gives all engineers one day a week to develop their own pet projects, no
matter how far from the company's central mission. If work gets in the way of
free days for a few weeks, they accumulate. Google News came out of this
process.
The Ideas List
Anyone at Google can post thoughts for new technologies or businesses on an
ideas mailing list, available companywide for input and vetting. But beware:
Newbies who suggest familiar or poorly thought-out ideas can face an
intellectual pummeling.
Open Office Hours
Think back to your professors' office hours in college. That's pretty
much what key managers, including Mayer, do two or three times a week, to
discuss new ideas. One success born of this approach was Google's personalized
home page.
Big Brainstorms
As it has grown, Google has cut back on brainstorming sessions. Mayer still
has them eight times a year, but limits hers to 100 engineers. Six concepts are
pitched and discussed for 10 minutes each. The goal: To build on the initial
idea with at least one complementary idea per minute.
Acquire Good Ideas
Although Google strongly prefers to develop technology in-house, it has also
been willing to snap up small companies with interesting initiatives. In 2004 it
bought Keyhole, including the technology that let Google offer sophisticated
maps with satellite imagery.