Sunday March 26, 2006

Six Stages of Separation from Sun

For my last sun blog, I apologize in advance for its length.

After 19 years, I've been lured away from Sun and will land at Adobe shortly. After endless requests for free copies of Photoshop, all the trite statements began...

Well it's the end of an era. A crossroads. The final chapter. A changing of the guard. The culmination of—ok, insert the sound of a record album being scratched by a needle. Rather than babble on about personal memories that most of you would yawn through, I've chosen to close my Sun blog career with a slightly different message.

What have I learned in the process of deciding to leave?

Choosing to depart Sun after nearly 20 years was like moving out of the house you grew up in. It doesn't mean that your new home isn't better for you; it just means that you have a lot of experiences, friendships, accomplishments—memories—that are hard to walk away from.

I think there are basically Six Stages of Separation (not to be confused with the book, “The Six Degrees of Separation”). Mine go like this:

1. Actually deciding you can leave after 19 years

2. Actually saying yes to your new employer (proving you really did pass Stage 1)

3. Telling your boss

4. Telling your staff, then others

5. The dead time in between telling the world and actually leaving, and finally

6. Handing over your badge and walking out the familiar doors for the last time (at least without an escort).

Stages 1-2 were difficult. But stage 3 was really a challenge. I've known Scott for all 19 years. I travelled with him, wrote his speeches a hundred years ago, know his mom, wife and kids. And with Jonathan, well, he rolled the dice and put me in charge of a business unit after being CMO—a big risk on his part. Later, he asked me to fill his huge shoes and run all of software when he was appointed Sun president and COO. These were very tough conversations. They were both surprised, but they were also cordial, professional and each a total class act.

The biggest surprise of Stage 4 was that no one knew prior to the moment I told my staff. At Sun, if there is any dirt to be known, "the network" finds it and disseminates it. At light speed. To all ends of the earth. Usually with 80 percent accuracy. Often on CNET, eWEEK or The Register before the the company itself has been notified. But not this time. The hard part was admitting that I would not be there to finish establishing Sun's software business—something I've been a part of for the past 5 years. I get paid to be optimistic about my business, to be a cheerleader. And right when the team is starting to hit its stride, I got lured away. That was a tough message to deliver.

Stage 5 is the dead time between announcing you're leaving and actually walking out the door. In my view, the shorter time in this mode, the better—for the company and for you.

What I dreaded most of all the stages was the finality of stage 6. Game. Set. Match. Like when you hand the keys to your home to the new buyer, you finally realize that this is no longer your house. I hated that last walk out the door.

But why did I go?

I was working in my home office a few days ago when a call came in at 8 a.m. "Hi, I'm Joe Mumblefritz at Bank of America." I don't bank there so I wondered why a soliciter was calling so early. "Why did you leave Sun?" Whoa. It took me a second, but I quickly figured out that a financial industry analyst had obtained my home phone number and found me early in the morning in shorts and a T-shirt after a brief jog. What I told him is what I told McNealy, Jonathan, my staff and everyone else.

Someday I'll do a start-up. Just not yet. My kids are still young and when you jump into a start-up, you jump in head first. I'm not ready to take the arrows, travel and sacrifices of being a new venture CEO at the expense of potentially missing my kids' baseball game or piano recital. But if I want to get there eventually, I asked myself which would be more compelling: landing at a start-up when I had 25 years of Sun experience or landing with 19 years of Sun experience and 6, 7 or 10 years of experience at a place like Adobe. I chose the latter because it was right for me. That may not be right for everyone, but it made sense for me.

I very much look forward to my start at Adobe. I leave Sun with an incredible set of memories. I grew up here. I got married while here. Had kids here. My hair went gray here. (Don't let my wife know; I tell her it was all her.) It's been a thrill. Fun. Challenging. And worth every late night, road trip and commute mile. If I could do it all over again, I'd only do one thing differently (other than sell every share I had when the stock hit $130). I'd have come here three years sooner out of college.

I don't know if the culture is a product of me or I'm a product of the culture. Either way, I am proud to have been part of Sun's incredible, industry-altering ride. As I have said before, Sun is about Crazy Ivan moves. I have full confidence Sun has a few more Crazy Ivan moves up its sleeve. If you look closely, you will see the Sun rising, not setting.