my two best friends.” In late summer of 2001, Doerr reached out to his friend to help Schmidt and the founders. “I felt it was an opportunity worth Bill’s time,” he said. “Eric had not been CEO on a scale Google would become. Larry and Sergey and Eric needed to be coached.”
In the Valley, Coach Campbell is a magnet for friends old and new. Still the chairman of Intuit, he is also the colead outside director at Apple, and one of Steve Jobs’s few confidants. On weekends and evenings, when big college or professional football and basketball games are televised, Campbell can often be found with a group of buddies in downtown Palo Alto’s Old Pro sports bar, a Stanford student hangout he owns. He’ll have a table in the middle of the pub piled high with hamburgers, French fries, pizzas, and his preferred drink, Bud Lite. Just under six feet tall, Campbell is easily spotted, and not just by the Kennedyesque thatch of gray hair that sprawls across his forehead: he’s the guy in constant motion, moving about the room dispensing high fives, fist pumps, hugs, and baseball caps. He sports an oversized Columbia 1962 ring and weighs just three or four pounds more than he did as a college linebacker. At the Old Pro, he’s garrulous. Outside, he’s allergic to interviews with reporters, and even with friends he sequesters conversations he has with other intimates. His discretion is well known, and part of his allure.
In a rare 2007 interview with two McKinsey & Co’s partners for the McKinsey Quarterly, Campbell said something that is music to engineers at places like Google: “empowered engineers are the single most important thing that you can have in a company.” He was talking about a tech company, and he went on to say that to foster innovation “you’ve got to be careful that you don’t make engineers beholden to product-marketing people. For me, growth is the goal, and growth comes through having innovation. Innovation comes through having great engineers, not great product-marketing guys.” He also said that smart tech executives should spend entire days “doing nothing but reviewing projects. A whole day, with the whole management team, so that we can clean up those projects, clean out the ones that aren’t going to be good, and take the bodies that are recovered and put them on the projects that look like they have the best prospects.”
Explaining Campbell’s role as a bridge builder at Google, Moritz said, “Bill’s contribution has been to take the emotion out of decisions. He’s more objective. He’s seen as a neutral source and a fair man.” The objectivity was needed, he explained, because: “You had two founders who were in their twenties and Eric was twenty years older, and you had to make that relationship work between people who did not know each other. It was natural that the founders would be suspicious. There were bumps at the beginning that Bill helped smooth over.” The biggest bumps, another Google insider said, were not between Schmidt and the founders, but with two venture capitalists on the board, Doerr and Moritz: “Eric had a busy-body board. The impression the board had was that Larry and Sergey were not focused. When they got Eric in, now they wanted to micromanage him.” They wanted Schmidt to push harder to monetize search. Doerr and Moritz “were both impatient,” said Shriram, who had served as a bridge between the founders and the board and gratefully handed this role to Campbell.
“I would sit with Larry and Sergey and try to figure out the things they more or less wanted from Eric,” recalled Campbell. Then he’d sit with Schmidt. He performed this particular function for three years, until 2005. Looking back over the life of Google, these sessions where Campbell performed as both a psychologist and a coach loom especially large. The company could have imploded. On Campbell’s shoulders rested a complex problem. He had to earn the trust of the founders, Schmidt, the board, and Google executives. He had to help put management systems in place, recruit executives, suggest financial controls and the structure of board and management meetings.
One would expect an ex-football coach to be an in-your-face, blustery, and threatening personality. And Campbell sounds like he would be, for he has a deep, hoarse voice that seems the product of yelling all day. But he is self-effacing, quick with a quip, more listener than talker. Schmidt likens Campbell’s ability to listen to that of