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E-conomy / Paul Andrews
Will Google be the poorer for its new wealth?

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The anticipated wealth surrounding Google becoming a public company is mind-staggering. Its expected valuation of at least $20 billion will create many instant billionaires and multimillionaires. Venture capitalists will profit wildly, and yet another great Silicon Valley startup story will be added to the pantheon.

But then what?

Throughout its brief eight-year history, from a Stanford University academic project to one of technology's most recognized names, Google has shown a remarkable creative resilience. When it began making its mark in 1998, it proved that the drab concept of "Internet search" could be enlivened by speed, breadth and a remarkably intuitive sense of what surfers were looking for.

As the date of the initial public offering approaches, we will be reassured over and over that Google's best days are ahead. Images will abound of hard-working Googloids creating a brilliant new future for the Internet and humankind.

But if history is any guide, Google's path will be considerably more rocky.

Innovative companies have a depressing tendency to lose their mission after going public. The interval between upgrades grows longer. New products take too long to come out and disappoint once they do. The magic disappears.

At worst, the companies implode; at best, they just keep on doing what they did before. But they no longer "matter" the way they once did.

Perhaps the earliest example was Apple Computer. The Apple II and later the Macintosh were the darlings of nascent personal computing. But once stock gains turned early employees into multimillionaires in the mid-1980s, Apple hit a debilitating losing streak.

New products like the Portable and Newton were late in coming and never catalyzed the market the way the Macintosh did.

A decade ago, Netscape Communications was the hot ticket. Before it went public — and no one conceived how explosive its IPO would be — Netscape had all the earmarks of a driven, idealistic enterprise out to change the world through Internet innovations.
 
After the IPO ensured Netscape's core team of fabulous wealth, one could almost feel the wellsprings of inspiration evaporate in Mountain View, Calif.

The dot-com era wrought its own mercenary havoc on technology startups. Even as they talked about changing the world, outfits like Kozmo, Petstore.com and Beyond.com seemed more intent on changing their net worth.

Once a company turns public, making money necessarily becomes its primary goal. But when making money takes precedence over making customers, boom has to turn to bust.

There are notable exceptions. Amazon.com and Yahoo! have bounced back from post-IPO malaise to make a difference. Microsoft's best years, the early '90s, happened well after its IPO (although one can argue that wealth has taken an inevitable toll on the Redmond campus, as well).

Even Apple has a recovered sense of industry leadership, thanks to co-founder Steve Jobs' return. Jobs himself is evidence that riches need not subjugate creativity.

Perhaps mindful of wealth's perversions, Google's top executives, Sergey Brin and Larry Page, have shown an admirable reluctance to take their company public.

Forced by SEC requirements into pursuing an IPO, they seem chary of overhyping themselves and their business. (Not that there aren't plenty of others willing to do so for them.)

Nobody's saying Google doesn't deserve its success — cultural or financial. That's the way the system works.

And I'm not saying success will spoil Google. The company has been successful beyond any measure since the day of its inception.

The issue is whether money will spoil Google. How the Googloids handle their immense assured wealth will prove a far tougher test than anything the competition will throw their way.

Paul Andrews is a freelance technology writer and co-author of "Gates." He can be reached at pandrews@seattletimes.com.