Update: I originally published this essay in late-2012. My attention recently drifted back to the topic of disruption in the telecom industry, prompting me to revisit what Mark Spencer achieved with Digium and the Asterisk product. I’m no less impressed today than I was four years ago, and so I put this at the top of the blog list again. What Mark accomplished is impressive and a worthy model for other disruptors to consider.
Mark Spencer presents me with a philosophical conundrum. Before an interview earlier this month I text him to say I’m so excited about our conversation that I hardly slept the night before. (He is understandably cautious of my enthusiasm.) After we spoke, I’m so confounded by the way he chose to tell his tale that I don’t sleep well for several more nights as my mind grapples with what it’s heard.
Mark is chief technology officer and founder of a company called Digium in Huntsville, Alabama. It supports and develops for an open source telecom platform called Asterisk which Mark (for lack of a better term) invented. Digium is to Asterisk what Red Hat is to Linux. And much as Linux evolved into the open source alternative to proprietary operating systems offered by companies such as Microsoft, so has Asterisk become an alternative to closed technology from the likes of telecom giants Cisco and Avaya.
Not everyone likes the open source model, but enough do that Red Hat has made a thriving business out of providing software, support and consulting services to those that do choose Linux. Likewise with Digium. It has found a loyal and growing base of followers who align with Asterisk’s open source philosophy, its price and its flexibility. Some subset of those Asterisk users, mostly small- and medium-sized companies, find value in paying Mark’s company to help them use the platform.
I have little doubt that Mark bristles at my word selection in the paragraphs above. That I call it “his” company and that he “invented” Asterisk. But those are accurate descriptions. Though he turned over day-to-day operations of the business to professional managers after raising a round of venture capital in 2007, he remains majority shareholder and has de facto voting control over board decisions. But Mark prefers inclusive language. Digium’s success is the result of the efforts of many, not just Mark, he points out several times in our interview. Asterisk’s adoption did not happen because of the code he originated, he adds, but because countless independent developers have committed their considerable energy and intellect to enhancing it and making it a better product for users.
Though its story is still being written, it’s not a stretch to call Digium a success at this point in its existence (which Mark characterizes as being in its late-adolescent or early-teenage years). The same applies to Mark. He has done more in his 35 years than most people could muster the ambition to even imagine accomplishing in their lifetimes. But he lets out a deep sigh when I ask him to tell the story in the context of this success.
Mark rejects my basic premise. “What is success?” he asks with implied disdain but unflinching politeness.
Call it success or call it something else, when he talks about where he is today and where Digium is, Mark has no interest in talking about the things he did. He takes me in a different direction altogether.
Let’s not tell a story about talent or skill leading to success, he intimates. Let’s talk about the importance of luck.
So it is this matter of luck, and its effects on outcomes – success or failure – that has kept me up more nights than I should admit since my last conversation with Mark.