No matter what Jack Dorsey (CEO, Twitter) says, he is going to come under criticism. While some of it is justified, but a lot of hyperventilation in the media is because the press is in a compensatory mode. After having championed Facebook, Twitter and others as saviors, a decade later everyone is waking up with a bit of a hangover.
Occasionally, though you come across a piece that is worth your attention, I enjoyed the Rolling Stone interview with Jack, and he was as open as a chief executive of a publicly traded company can be, about himself, his company and well, social media in general.
The article asked (a few) difficult questions, and got some decent answers. Could Rolling Stones magazine be more aggressive in its questioning? Of course, it could be — but remember we are living in the golden age of access journalism. That said, given that we all are being served information that has the nutritional value of a chicken McNugget and hot-takes staler than diner coffee, this was particularly revealing interview.
I won’t re-write it for you — the whole thing is worth reading. But I will highlight the part that will make you click. Here is Dorsey on Mark Zuckerberg and when he met him:
I just don’t know what his philosophies are. I don’t know what their (Facebook) purpose is. I know what they say, but I don’t know. I see Mark as a very, very smart businessman. He will excel to gain as much market share as possible.
Well, there was a year when he was only eating what he was killing. He made goat for me for dinner. He killed the goat. …He killed it before. I guess he kills it. He kills it with a laser gun and then the knife. Then they send it to the butcher.
I don’t know. A stun gun. They stun it, and then he knifed it. Then they send it to a butcher. Evidently in Palo Alto there’s a rule or regulation that you can have six livestock on any lot of land, so he had six goats at the time. I go, “We’re eating the goat you killed?” He said, “Yeah.” I said, “Have you eaten goat before?” He’s like, “Yeah, I love it.” I’m like, “What else are we having?” “Salad.” I said, “Where is the goat?” “It’s in the oven.”
Then we waited for about 30 minutes. He’s like, “I think it’s done now.” We go in the dining room. He puts the goat down. It was cold. That was memorable. I don’t know if it went back in the oven. I just ate my salad.
I don’t know what you’re going to do with that, but hopefully that’s not the headline. Revenge is a dish best served warm. Or cold.
Now that’s a sick burn.