May 10, 2024 - 4:00pm

One interesting emergent phenomenon in the tech world is the invocation of saints and martyrs. When Apple released its widely-derided “crusher” commercial this week Paul Graham, founder of the tech incubator Y Combinator, claimed that “Steve [Jobs] wouldn’t have shipped that ad. It would have pained him too much to watch.”

The Apple ad riffs on the TikTok trend of “crusher ASMR” videos — in which objects, from footballs to vases to candles to toys, are put beneath the inexorable steel colonnade of industrial hydraulic crushing machines. Some things crush well: they might have a satisfying compaction, or shatter with a clean “pop”, while other things merely smoosh or crumple. The ad depicts the destruction of guitars, pianos, paint pots — the stuff of creativity — into a gleaming steel mirror: the new iPad Pro.

Actor Hugh Grant grandly labelled the commercial “the destruction of the human experience. Courtesy of Silicon Valley.” His outrage spread, and Apple apologised yesterday, admitting that it had “missed the mark”.

But the question of whether St Steve would have been able to use his powers of divination to stop the disaster is still an intriguing one. By meditating on the late Jobs, we can reflect on all the reasons why we used to like Apple and cleave them off from the resentful clinch in which we now find ourselves.

The Silicon Valley dream conjured by Jobs was a naive one. It’s hard to look back on the famous “Think Different” Apple ad campaign, with its invocations of Martin Luther King and Albert Einstein, and not see misguided Baby Boomer sentimentality. That dream has been running on autopilot since Jobs’s death in 2011, all while the world has changed around it.

Figures like Tim Cook — vapid supply-chain guys — have, in awe and memoriam of their founder, kept steering in that direction and maintained the minimalist vibes. Yet they have failed to notice that the pine-scented Cupertino utopia seems to be connected by dilapidated highways to various cities which increasingly resemble Blade Runner.

Hence why Apple’s crusher went down so badly. It’s easy for the company’s executives to imagine no possessions; it’s easy for them to live in a green-tech wonderworld. But it’s trickier for geriatric millennials to live through the fourth wave of tech-induced wage compression in their working lives. Or to go back to houses crushed in scale by quantitative easing and mass migration.

As a business — as a revenue-generating machine — Apple has now reached what business studies professors would call its “mature phase”. Most of its profits come from rent extraction based on customer lock-in. They come from the 30% cut it takes on every purchase in the App Store; on the tenner a month for iCloud; or payment processing fees via Apple Pay. The wheel of life revolves: Apple is unkillable, because it sells you the magnificent hardware at close to cost, in order to get you into its revenue ecosystem.

It is a displacement activity to hate Apple. But we are going to need to hate a lot more through the rest of 21st century. Some have framed the new ad as an unconscious reversal of Ridley Scott’s famous “1984” commercial — the athlete smashing the Big Brother screen, freeing the hypnotised normie folk.

These critiques tend to point out that Apple is now Big Brother. That it is an uncool overlord with crushing market power. But perhaps we should rotate the wheel another quarter-turn: what if Apple is, to extend the Orwell metaphor a little further, actually Emmanuel Goldstein? We are only extending our two-minute hate, directed towards a nefarious phantom figure who may not even exist.


Gavin Haynes is a journalist and former editor-at-large at Vice.

@gavhaynes