[Main image linked from toyota-f1.com]

Sunday, December 28, 2008

:: Speech Time: Steve Jobs

Friday, August 12, 2005 6:33 AM

Another great man, Steve Jobs.

Stanford Report, June 14, 2005
'You've got to find what you love,' Jobs says

This is the text of the Commencement address by Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios, delivered on June 12, 2005.

I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal. Just three stories.

The first story is about connecting the dots.

I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?

It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: "We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?" They said: "Of course." My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.

And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.

It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms, I returned coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example:

Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.

None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, its likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.

Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something - your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.

My second story is about love and loss.

I was lucky ? I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4000 employees. We had just released our finest creation - the Macintosh - a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.

I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down - that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me — I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.

I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.

During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the worlds first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I retuned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.

I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle.

My third story is about death.

When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything ? all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.

I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now.

This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope its the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960's, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.

Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

Thank you all very much.

Source: http://news-service.stanford.edu/news/2005/june15/jobs-061505.html

:: Speech Time: Conan O' Brien

Friday, August 12, 2005 6:28 AM

I'm a big fan of Conan O' Brien and his show. Here's the speech or talk he gave to Harvard's Class of 2000. Very funny and witty as usual. I didn't know he graduated from Harvard until I bumped into this one and now I admire this funny guy even more. I must admit I can very well relate to his "And you graduated from Harvard?" lines. Sigh... Very true.

I'd like to thank the Class Marshals for inviting me here today. The last time I was invited to Harvard it cost me $110,000, so you'll forgive me if I'm a bit suspicious. I'd like to announce up front that I have one goal this afternoon: to be half as funny as tomorrow's Commencement Speaker, Moral Philosopher and Economist, Amartya Sen. Must get more laughs than seminal wage/price theoretician.

Students of the Harvard Class of 2000, fifteen years ago I sat where you sit now and I thought exactly what you are now thinking: What's going to happen to me? Will I find my place in the world? Am I really graduating a virgin? I still have 24 hours and my roommate's Mom is hot. I swear she was checking me out. Being here today is very special for me. I miss this place. I especially miss Harvard Square - it's so unique. No where else in the world will you find a man with a turban wearing a Red Sox jacket and working in a lesbian bookstore. Hey, I'm just glad my dad's working.

It's particularly sweet for me to be here today because when I graduated, I wanted very badly to be a Class Day Speaker. Unfortunately, my speech was rejected. So, if you'll indulge me, I'd like to read a portion of that speech from fifteen years ago: "Fellow students, as we sit here today listening to that classic Ah-ha tune which will definitely stand the test of time, I would like to make several predictions about what the future will hold: "I believe that one day a simple Governor from a small Southern state will rise to the highest office in the land. He will lack political skill, but will lead on the sheer strength of his moral authority." "I believe that Justice will prevail and, one day, the Berlin Wall will crumble, uniting East and West Berlin forever under Communist rule." "I believe that one day, a high speed network of interconnected computers will spring up world-wide, so enriching people that they will lose their interest in idle chit chat and pornography." "And finally, I believe that one day I will have a television show on a major network, seen by millions of people a night, which I will use to re-enact crimes and help catch at-large criminals." And then there's some stuff about the death of Wall Street which I don't think we need to get into....

The point is that, although you see me as a celebrity, a member of the cultural elite, a kind of demigod, I was actually a student here once much like you. I came here in the fall of 1981 and lived in Holworthy. I was, without exaggeration, the ugliest picture in the Freshman Face book. When Harvard asked me for a picture the previous summer, I thought it was just for their records, so I literally jogged in the August heat to a passport photo office and sat for a morgue photo. To make matters worse, when the Face Book came out they put my picture next to Catherine Oxenberg, a stunning blonde actress who was accepted to the class of '85 but decided to defer admission so she could join the cast of "Dynasty." My photo would have looked bad on any page, but next to Catherine Oxenberg, I looked like a mackerel that had been in a car accident. You see, in those days I was six feet four inches tall and I weighed 150 pounds. Recently, I had some structural engineers run those numbers into a computer model and, according to the computer, I collapsed in 1987, killing hundreds in Taiwan.

After freshman year I moved to Mather House. Mather House, incidentally, was designed by the same firm that built Hitler's bunker. In fact, if Hitler had conducted the war from Mather House, he'd have shot himself a year earlier. 1985 seems like a long time ago now. When I had my Class Day, you students would have been seven years old. Seven years old. Do you know what that means? Back then I could have beaten any of you in a fight. And I mean bad. It would be no contest. If any one here has a time machine, seriously, let's get it on, I will whip your seven year old butt. When I was here, they sold diapers at the Coop that said "Harvard Class of 2000." At the time, it was kind of a joke, but now I realize you wore those diapers. How embarrassing for you. A lot has happened in fifteen years. When you think about it, we come from completely different worlds. When I graduated, we watched movies starring Tom Cruise and listened to music by Madonna. I come from a time when we huddled around our TV sets and watched "The Cosby Show" on NBC, never imagining that there would one day be a show called "Cosby" on CBS. In 1985 we drove cars with driver's side airbags, but if you told us that one day there'd be passenger side airbags, we'd have burned you for witchcraft.

But of course, I think there is some common ground between us. I remember well the great uncertainty of this day. Many of you are justifiably nervous about leaving the safe, comfortable world of Harvard Yard and hurling yourself headlong into the cold, harsh world of Harvard Grad School, a plum job at your father's firm, or a year abroad with a gold Amex card and then a plum job in your father's firm. But let me assure you that the knowledge you've gained here at Harvard is a precious gift that will never leave you. Take it from me, your education is yours to keep forever. Why, many of you have read the Merchant of Florence, and that will inspire you when you travel to the island of Spain. Your knowledge of that problem they had with those people in Russia, or that guy in South America-you know, that guy-will enrich you for the rest of your life.

There is also sadness today, a feeling of loss that you're leaving Harvard forever. Well, let me assure you that you never really leave Harvard. The Harvard Fundraising Committee will be on your ass until the day you die. Right now, a member of the Alumni Association is at the Mt. Auburn Cemetery shaking down the corpse of Henry Adams. They heard he had a brass toe ring and they aims to get it. Imagine: These people just raised 2.5 billion dollars and they only got through the B's in the alumni directory. Here's how it works. Your phone rings, usually after a big meal when you're tired and most vulnerable. A voice asks you for money. Knowing they just raised 2.5 billion dollars you ask, "What do you need it for?" Then there's a long pause and the voice on the other end of the line says, "We don't need it, we just want it." It's chilling.

What else can you expect? Let me see, by your applause, who here wrote a thesis. (APPLAUSE) A lot of hard work, a lot of your blood went into that thesis... and no one is ever going to care. I wrote a thesis: Literary Progeria in the works of Flannery O'Connor and William Faulkner. Let's just say that, during my discussions with Pauly Shore, it doesn't come up much. For three years after graduation I kept my thesis in the glove compartment of my car so I could show it to a policeman in case I was pulled over. (ACT OUT) License, registration, cultural exploration of the Man Child in the Sound and the Fury...

So what can you expect out there in the real world? Let me tell you. As you leave these gates and re-enter society, one thing is certain: Everyone out there is going to hate you. Never tell anyone in a roadside diner that you went to Harvard. In most situations the correct response to where did you to school is, "School? Why, I never had much in the way of book larnin' and such." Then, get in your BMW and get the hell out of there.

You see, you're in for a lifetime of "And you went to Harvard?" Accidentally give the wrong amount of change in a transaction and it's, "And you went to Harvard?" Ask the guy at the hardware store how these jumper cables work and hear, "And you went to Harvard?" Forget just once that your underwear goes inside your pants and it's "and you went to Harvard." Get your head stuck in your niece's dollhouse because you wanted to see what it was like to be a giant and it's "Uncle Conan, you went to Harvard!?"

But to really know what's in store for you after Harvard, I have to tell you what happened to me after graduation. I'm going to tell you my story because, first of all, my perspective may give many of you hope, and, secondly, it's an amazing rush to stand in front of six thousand people and talk about yourself.

After graduating in May, I moved to Los Angeles and got a three week contract at a small cable show. I got a $380 a month apartment and bought a 1977 Isuzu Opel, a car Isuzu only manufactured for a year because they found out that, technically, it's not a car. Here's a quick tip, graduates: no four cylinder vehicle should have a racing stripe. I worked at that show for over a year, feeling pretty good about myself, when one day they told me they were letting me go. I was fired and, I hadn't saved a lot of money. I tried to get another job in television but I couldn't find one.

So, with nowhere else to turn, I went to a temp agency and filled out a questionnaire. I made damn sure they knew I had been to Harvard and that I expected the very best treatment. And so, the next day, I was sent to the Santa Monica branch of Wilson's House of Suede and Leather. When you have a Harvard degree and you're working at Wilson's House of Suede and Leather, you are haunted by the ghostly images of your classmates who chose Graduate School. You see their faces everywhere: in coffee cups, in fish tanks, and they're always laughing at you as you stack suede shirts no man, in good conscience, would ever wear. I tried a lot of things during this period: acting in corporate infomercials, serving drinks in a non-equity theatre, I even took a job entertaining at a seven year olds' birthday party. In desperate need of work, I put together some sketches and scored a job at the fledgling Fox Network as a writer and performer for a new show called "The Wilton North Report." I was finally on a network and really excited. The producer told me the show was going to revolutionize television. And, in a way, it did. The show was so hated and did so badly that when, four weeks later, news of its cancellation was announced to the Fox affiliates, they burst into applause.

Eventually, though, I got a huge break. I had submitted, along with my writing partner, a batch of sketches to Saturday Night Live and, after a year and a half, they read it and gave us a two week tryout. The two weeks turned into two seasons and I felt successful. Successful enough to write a TV pilot for an original sitcom and, when the network decided to make it, I left Saturday Night Live. This TV show was going to be groundbreaking. It was going to resurrect the career of TV's Batman, Adam West. It was going to be a comedy without a laugh track or a studio audience. It was going to change all the rules. And here's what happened: When the pilot aired it was the second lowest-rated television show of all time. It's tied with a test pattern they show in Nova Scotia.

So, I was 28 and, once again, I had no job. I had good writing credits in New York, but I was filled with disappointment and didn't know what to do next. I started smelling suede on my fingertips. And that's when The Simpsons saved me. I got a job there and started writing episodes about Springfield getting a Monorail and Homer going to College. I was finally putting my Harvard education to good use, writing dialogue for a man who's so stupid that in one episode he forgot to make his own heart beat. Life was good.

And then, an insane, inexplicable opportunity came my way . A chance to audition for host of the new Late Night Show. I took the opportunity seriously but, at the same time, I had the relaxed confidence of someone who knew he had no real shot. I couldn't fear losing a great job I had never had. And, I think that attitude made the difference. I'll never forget being in the Simpson's recording basement that morning when the phone rang. It was for me. My car was blocking a fire lane. But a week later I got another call: I got the job.

So, this was undeniably the it: the truly life-altering break I had always dreamed of. And, I went to work. I gathered all my funny friends and poured all my years of comedy experience into building that show over the summer, gathering the talent and figuring out the sensibility. We debuted on September 13, 1993 and I was happy with our effort. I felt like I had seized the moment and put my very best foot forward. And this is what the most respected and widely read television critic, Tom Shales, wrote in the Washington Post: "O'Brien is a living collage of annoying nervous habits. He giggles and titters, jiggles about and fiddles with his cuffs. He had dark, beady little eyes like a rabbit. He's one of the whitest white men ever. O'Brien is a switch on the guest who won't leave: he's the host who should never have come. Let the Late show with Conan O'Brien become the late, Late Show and may the host return to Conan O'Blivion whence he came." There's more but it gets kind of mean.

Needless to say, I took a lot of criticism, some of it deserved, some of it excessive. And it hurt like you wouldn't believe. But I'm telling you all this for a reason. I've had a lot of success and I've had a lot of failure. I've looked good and I've looked bad. I've been praised and I've been criticized. But my mistakes have been necessary. Except for Wilson's House of Suede and Leather. That was just stupid.

I've dwelled on my failures today because, as graduates of Harvard, your biggest liability is your need to succeed. Your need to always find yourself on the sweet side of the bell curve. Because success is a lot like a bright, white tuxedo. You feel terrific when you get it, but then you're desperately afraid of getting it dirty, of spoiling it in any way.

I left the cocoon of Harvard, I left the cocoon of Saturday Night Live, I left the cocoon of The Simpsons. And each time it was bruising and tumultuous. And yet, every failure was freeing, and today I'm as nostalgic for the bad as I am for the good.

So, that's what I wish for all of you: the bad as well as the good. Fall down, make a mess, break something occasionally. And remember that the story is never over. If it's all right, I'd like to read a little something from just this year: "Somehow, Conan O'Brien has transformed himself into the brightest star in the Late Night firmament. His comedy is the gold standard and Conan himself is not only the quickest and most inventive wit of his generation, but quite possible the greatest host ever."

Ladies and Gentlemen, Class of 2000, I wrote that this morning, as proof that, when all else fails, there's always delusion.

I'll go now, to make bigger mistakes and to embarrass this fine institution even more. But let me leave you with one last thought: If you can laugh at yourself loud and hard every time you fall, people will think you're drunk.

Thank you.

Rounds 8 to 13 Conversation: Part I

Friday, August 05, 2005 7:45 PM

Die-hard Toyota fan from the Philippines TF102 returns to the scene with thoughts on the recent grands prix he missed reporting on, and a lot more.

Well, congratulations on Toyota’s recent solid return to form, and of course Ralf Schumacher’s first podium finish as a Toyota driver.
Thanks, and indeed it is refreshing, reinvigorating to have this kind of results once again. As I said it’s a good send-off for the three week summer break.

Speaking of breaks, you yourself have been on a long break. What happened?
Well yes, I have been a lazy fan. No, let me take that back. I’ve been a lazy writer but my support for the team never disappeared. I guess it all started when Karl Kinger, who manages Totally Toyota F1, offered column space for my interviews. First of all I felt honored and it just feels great to know that people appreciate my work. And then I was overwhelmed, like it was too much for me.

Why would you consider a column space too much for you? You have been sharing your F1 thoughts even before that.
Yes, but a dedicated TF102 space would be a lot of responsibilities. I had some concerns, on top of these is the fact that I just write whenever I can, or sometimes want. And I think more importantly, I was afraid that a lot of people would disagree with my more subjective approach to writing or evaluating the team, drivers, etc.

But isn’t it supposed to be sort of an opinion column, hence you’re more or less free to be as subjective as you want.
For sure, but let me reiterate that though I have come to more greatly appreciate our drivers Jarno and Ralf, I am first and foremost a Toyota supporter. There is a clear distinction there – there are those who support a certain driver, there are those who support the team, and then there also those who support F1 altogether. I’m afraid I might not please everyone. I thought I wasn’t prepared as yet to be put on the spotlight, should I end up with opinions not entirely in line with the majority’s. But here I am, so…

Ok, fair enough. So why did it take so long?
Once I stopped for a while, for Canada and Indy, I just spiraled into a deeper level of laziness, so to speak. And of course, I must admit that the lack of good results made it difficult for me to come up with reports. After the Indy fiasco, I missed France, Silverstone, and Hockenheim.

So including Hungary, you owe us five grands prix. What do you have to say for yourself now?
I think I just told you a lot of things. I pretty much explained already.

How about an apology?
Do I have to? Ok then, my apologies for the long delay. But I have some juicy stories to share. I will no longer devote much space for evaluating the team’s performance in the previous races. We all pretty much know about those already.

But how would you assess the team’s overall performance in those five grands prix?
I think we stagnated a little, and that is pretty much equal to taking a step back, a little one. But small mistakes, small unluck or misfortunes projected a more significant drop in competitiveness. Race pace turned out to be more and more “questionable” to put it nicely. I think it goes as far back as Nurburgring when Jarno suffered a lot from his drive-through penalty, when in comparison David Coulthard recovered nicely to still finish fourth.

Those were frustrating, and embarrassing times. When else was race pace the culprit and when was it just pure unluck?
Actually I don’t believe in bad finishes as a consequence of unluck alone. As I’ve said before, you create your own luck. The team believed that they missed podiums from Nurburgring, Canada, and the US. The factor frequently blamed is the tyres, but all in all, to the public, it’s just about the Toyota cars, and especially Jarno fading during the races.

That was just unfair!
True, that was unfair, but we just had to face reality that the results were not coming. We were the stuff of jokes for some time. There were rumors that other teams decide on their qualifying strategies depending on Jarno’s, that the most important thing at the starts is to get past the mobile chicane. It was unfair because there were other so-called mobile chicanes at different grands prix, like the other red cars.

So what do you think of Jarno anyway?
Well I don’t think he’s a mobile chicane, but I’m leaning towards Peter Windsor’s theory that Jarno is the type of driver who still has to learn to drive over the imperfections of his car. Hungary was a welcome anti-thesis to this theory, but it still appears that he tends to be more sensitive to even the littlest of changes in his car or tyres. Windsor concedes that Jarno is the best qualifier, only that the Italian primarily wants the car to adapt to him. As he prepares to qualify he comes up with the best set-up: he is adapting the car to his liking. He cannot do major set-up changes to the car during the race: this is when he has to adapt to the car, but apparently he doesn’t do a good job.

It’s a good thing that, having browsed through various forums, more and more people now have a better understanding of Jarno’s case as good racer/supreme qualifier rather the usual bad racer/good qualifier/mobile chicane statements.
I think he’s gone a long way to improve his craft beginning in 2004. I just have yet to see him overtake someone this year. Ralf is usually closing in on the one ahead of him while Jarno is satisfied to pace himself. For Jarno, half of the job is done anyway because he’s already in front, while Ralf needs to carve his way up the field.

What do you think is the reason behind Toyota’s mid-season drop-off, if you can call it that?
First of all, yes I think we can pretty much call it a mid-season drop-off. Competitiveness is always a relative thing, and if we look at all the races, except for the latest one in Hungary, we can see that in each grand prix we have been beaten, fairly, by either Ferrari or BAR, our closest rivals. Jarno’s retired podium in Canada would have been our first gifted podium, since without the retirements of the Renaults, Juan Pablo, and Jenson, yes the Honda, we wouldn’t have been running third in the first place. Our race pace, not even our insistent heavy-fueled strategy couldn’t vault us into a top three there. Although we had two cars in the points in France, we were clearly beaten by Michael and Jenson. In Britain, where I had higher hopes than usual, we could only manage a disappointing eighth. Finally in Hockenheim, Ralf was able to be racy with his brother and Giancarlo, but at the end of the day a Ferrari was still ahead, and more importantly, Jenson and Honda got themselves onto the podium. It was a gifted podium, nevertheless we also got a gifted podium the following race in Hungary, so it just levels out.

How about the US Grand Prix? We got our first pole there.
I don’t have anything to say about the politics, just that I agree that they shouldn’t have embarrassed F1 in the States. They should have come up with any solution or compromise. What I know is that Toyota was the biggest winner there. We got pole and one of our engines on the podium. Major publicity on our part. I’m confident of the car’s ability to be on pole, especially in the hands of Jarno, even with more than three laps worth of fuel. I was expecting nothing lower than P5 in qualifying. We were talked about very much after all the fiasco with doubts on Jarno’s pole, and Jordan-Toyota’s top three finish. And who else was there? Just the Ferrari. That’s something big in the States: a Toyota sharing the podium with the Ferraris. I just hope I’m not underestimating the US crowd with this…

The next weekend, we had ourselves full with publicity again with Olivier Panis in his home grand prix. Now what did you think of that?
Typical Toyota. You know, Toyota did more seat-shuffling with Ricardo and Olivier in last year’s Japanese and Brazilian grands prix. With Olivier, I just thought he’d probably go all out for P1 on Friday. It’s either our tyre problems really hampered him, or just that he was a little rusty for the job because not only did we not finish P2 as usual, but we were actually down as low as P5 or P6.

Hmm, that’s interesting. Now what about reliability? Would you say it was also a factor as regards our results?
We only had two major reliability offs in the last five races, and of the two it’s the one in Canada that directly cost us points. But I’d say Toyota reliability has still been top-notch all in all, although both Ferrari and BAR-Honda have also been failure-free of late. Our strong reliability means that we’ve scored in every race this season apart from Australia. Even during our more difficult times in the last few races we managed to score points, which is very important to maintain momentum and motivate the entire team. It shows how much we’ve matured over last year, and compares well with an established team like Williams, who for one weekend threatens our place in the championship only to be pointless in the next race.

Reliability as motivation? Why do you say so?
You can also see it as the antidote to frustration. I’m sure Christian Albers is gutted whenever his race is cut short, and he’s driving a Minardi. I imagine it’s even more frustrating when unreliability attacks a very capable car. Just ask Kimi Raikkonen.

Having mentioned Kimi Raikkonen, would you like him to be champion?
Yes, I prefer him over Fernando Alonso. But to be honest, should Fernando win, I think it will also be a well-deserved one. Fernando and his team deserve to win, whereas in Kimi’s case, it’s the driver alone who is properly deserving. These mistakes from McLaren mean that the fans are robbed not only of close fights on track; we are also robbed of at least a good battle in terms of points.

Aside from Kimi Raikkonen, which other driver do you support or admire?
I’m going to limit my self to Kimi Raikkonen, and my ultimate wish is to have someone like him to be a part of Toyota. I have a lot of respect for all F1 driver’s capabilities, and I’m satisfied with Jarno and Ralf. What I find special about Kimi is his being young, his talent, and yes, even his character, or what others consider as lack of character. I also follow to some extent people like Heikki Kova-something, Ryan Briscoe, Valentino Rossi, and Sebastian Loeb.

I see… Oh, I think we’ve strayed too far from one question. Going back to it, what do you think is the reason behind Toyota’s mid-season drop-off?
Probably lack of development. If one would do a quick scan of all the cars, it can be seen that the TF105 has had the least developments. The current basic form of the TF105 has been the same since Barcelona, with extra winglets appearing for Monaco and Hungary. All the top teams, and I mean all including Renault, McLaren, Ferrari, Williams, and BAR, and midfielders like Red Bull and Sauber have had major aero modifications. Therefore, it’s no surprise that BAR and Ferrari have had significant improvements in terms of pace. It’s just amazing, meanwhile, how McLaren and Renault manage to have a consistent gap, sometimes even increasing gap over all the others.

Surely there are minor changes here and there, not visible to the untrained eye, and what about those engine upgrades?
As expected, the engine department continues to deliver. The engines are powerful and reliable, and Jarno even managed to have one same engine for three events. The only slip up so far has been in Hockenheim, of all places. The engine troubles over at Jordan, according to reports, are more of Jordan’s wrongdoing than ours. Still, Mercedes-Benz Ilmor, Renault, and Honda also have engine upgrades every now and then. We do have modifications, but when Keizo Takahashi wrote of having triple the efforts of our competitors, then we fans cannot be blamed for having higher expectations. Contrary to this promise, there are instances when we arrive at a venue with the exact same car we raced at the previous event!

I can feel your sadness and disappointment there. Aren’t you just tired of the boxy look of the car? But to look at it more positively, you can perhaps think that despite the lack of major modifications, the TF105s continue to deliver.
Can’t agree with you more about the car being a little boxy, at least by today’s standards. Another positive way to look at it, is that despite the simple, boxy look the car is actually capable to challenging and running with the better looking ones. Contrary to the previous copying accusations, our car now is actually unique. Any Toyota F1 fan should visit the Technical Analysis section of formula1.com and feel proud how it is narrated there that this or that team sports this modification *first introduced by Toyota*.

Is that so? Which parts have been copied?
Small details. The winglets just above the front tyres, which admittedly we copied from Williams last year, has been copied by Renault and ironically, Williams. The “brows” by the side pods which we got from Jordan and we later modified is now sported by BAR-Honda. The fins around the middle of side pod openings have been copied by BAR and Ferrari. And the gills in the rear-wing endplates have been copied by other teams.

Just the same, the TF105 mirrored the other teams’ three-element quasi-wings in the air box and the mini rear wing.
I think it’s just about time. Other teams permanently have mini rear wings and quasi-wings by the rear wheels, but Toyota detached theirs after Monaco. We have yet to adopt an even tighter packaging at the rear and a more curved side pod profile. We have the simplest set of wings at the rear end of the car compared to virtually every other team. Just look at the rear ends of Williams, Renault, and BAR!

Perhaps we already have enough down force? Ours is simple and it works, but aren’t we supposed to have the most down force we can have?
I’m not sure really. This is a more technical question, but right now I’m guessing that we’re trying to minimize drag, we’re going for aero efficiency. We could ask Keizo…

Despite the less than fulfilled promise, aren’t you just thankful for Keizo?
Yes I am! Keizo is the Toyota F1 fan’s best friend, bringing us as close as can be to the team through his DTC reports. Sometimes I think he’s giving out too much for other teams to read, but then again he knows what he’s doing. He’s obviously a smart guy.

And I think his passion for his job ultimately makes him a fan at heart too.
I agree, and sometimes we the readers can also see how much he’s disappointed or pleased with the results. Speaking of which, his most recent concerns were the tyres. He’s confident we’ve gotten over our tyre problems already, although I personally think we’re still underperforming given the fact that we now have Pascal Vasselon with us.

Those black, round things have always been a Toyota’s Achilles heel, huh?
Unfortunately, yes. Ever since the TF102; I don’t know with the TF101. That is why Mr. Vasselon is such a prime catch. I have this uneducated idea that perhaps the recent increases in horsepower without the corresponding aero or mechanical improvements might have caused our tyre troubles. We have already improved our basic chassis thanks to Mike Gascoyne’s supervision, and now I think we need a reputable electronics guy to come up with the best electronics for us. Aero development is pretty much continuous, and I feel the remaining area where we could find big gains would be in suspension design and software. Then we could most effectively use our tyres.

There are rumors that some major modifications are due for the TF105, so let’s see. And still on tyres, what can you say about the nagging rumors that Toyota and Bridgestone could team up next year?
I go with what Mike said only recently: “It’s clear on which tyre brand one should be.” But allow me to be cynical: he said something like “If you look at the situation now”. I personally don’t like Toyota to switch tyres, mainly because of Bridgestone’s history and philosophy of putting all their eggs in one basket. Michelin is a fair team player, and despite a chance to establish a more personal partnership with McLaren or Renault for instance, they choose not to. Still, Bridgestone is capable of wonderful things so they cannot be a bad choice in the long term. One of the rumored reasons for a possible Toyota-Bridgestone partnership is the hint that Bridgestone is the more favored company to stay should F1 shift to just having a single tyre supplier.

I guess we’ll never know for now then.
Exactly. I suspect that Toyota is also in a wait-and-see approach. If Bridgestone goes back to winning ways by the end of the season, I can see Toyota announcing a switch at the start of off-season. A bit similar to Sauber’s switch to Michelin this year. Toyota will surely lose momentum though should they switch to Bridgestone next year, but it might turn out to be a wise, ample preparation for an all-out push and settled tyre partnership for 2007.

Funny that you mention 2007 and Sauber.
What about 2007 and Sauber?

Well, Sauber has been purchased by BMW, who has left Williams without an engine supplier, who has been rumored to be courting Toyota, who has been rumored, in turn, to be ready to supply them in 2007. What do you have to say?
To begin with, wow, that was smart! And to think you and I are the same! I think I’ve already begun from my last interview when I said I’d rather have Lexus sponsor the Toyota works team than enter F1 as an engine-badger to Williams.

Ok, but how about now with BMW and Sauber in the picture? Toyota supplying Williams in 2007 is looking more realistic by the day.
I feel like Toyota missed out on a good ally and a cheap bargain in Sauber. Grandprix.com reports that BMW got Sauber for a very good deal. Anyway I think Sauber was just waiting for someone to buy his team, and Toyota obviously wasn’t into taking over another F1 operation. Sauber would have been the perfect partner for Toyota, and I wish they just stuck to being an independent team. Sauber is the quintessential independent team, Red Bull of a different breed. Sauber have a good approach to whatever they do, except for hiring Jacques this year I must say. They are German-speaking, which would have worked very well with our being based in Cologne.