MESSAGE
| DATE | 2013-06-21 |
| FROM | Ruben Safir
|
| SUBJECT | Subject: [NYLXS - HANGOUT] github
|
http://www.businessweek.com/articles/2013-06-20/github-got-silly-rich-dot-next-step-make-more-awesome
Four years into its journey as a company, GitHub remained something of
an independent. The startup, which helps companies and developers build
software, rebuffed the repeated advances of venture capitalists. Then,
last July, GitHub flipped the bit and took $100 million from Andreessen
Horowitz, gorging at the venture-capital trough like some kind of
hideously large and famished money hog. (Yes, these things exist.)
Asked why GitHub would need so much money, Chief Executive Tom
Preston-Werner replies with an answer that fits his laid-back persona:
“To make more awesome.” It’s an unsatisfying response, but
you can reasonably (sort of?) say such things when you’re the Grand
Poobah of the software universe.
GitHub got its start as a type of productivity/collaboration service for
open-source software developers. Someone would decide to create a new
application and opt to put his code up on the GitHub website. Other
people could then see the code and contribute to the project, and
GitHub’s tools would document the changes, let the developers chat
with each other, and make it easier for people to combine their various
bits and pieces into a working whole. Similar things had existed for
years; they just weren’t that good.
One reason Preston-Werner and his co-founders didn’t have to chase
VC money is that they were making their own money immediately. Software
developers were ready and willing to pay for good collaboration and
project-management tools. “On the first day, we made maybe
$1,000,” says Preston-Werner, a skinny, bearded fellow. “That
becomes $1,000 every month because it’s recurring revenue. It was
amazing.”
Today, GitHub lets developers working on open-source projects use its
service for free. Individuals and companies wanting to use the GitHub
tools in private must pay a monthly subscription for a cloud service
that ranges from $7 to $200. And then there’s an Enterprise Plan for
companies that want to take the GitHub software and run it in their own
data centers for maximum control and security.
If you’re outside the software world, it may be hard to comprehend
how important GitHub has become. Just about all the major Web
companies—Google (GOOG), Facebook (FB), Netflix (NFLX)—have a
presence on GitHub, where they share their open-source code with the
public and give their internal engineers a place to work together. More
mainstream companies have shown up to manage their software efforts. And
individual developers have turned to GitHub as a way of showing off what
they can do and enticing employers. About 60,000 new developers sign up
for a GitHub account each week.
Some of the $100 million in funding has gone toward supporting the
infrastructure needed to support this growth. GitHub stores its
customers’ source code on its own data-center equipment and employs
dozens of people to manage and advance these computing systems. It has
customer-support employees and others that build new tools. GitHub also
has a growing staff of salespeople, courting corporate customers.
As the acting high priest of software, GitHub naturally builds a lot of
its own internal tools. “Our finance people should have their own
developers to automate the things that finance people do,” says
Preston-Werner. “People shouldn’t be responsible for what we
call ‘s––– work.’ We prefer to solve repetitive
sorts of jobs with technology.” As for why it builds so many
internal tools, such as a company directory, rather than just buying
them, Preston-Werner explains: “We demand that the products we use
be excellent. All those other products suck.”
GitHub as a whole seems to feed off Preston-Werner’s brand of
cocksure easygoingness. The company, for example, is playful in that it
has several themed meeting rooms. I was talking to Preston-Werner in the
Situation Room, which comes with big black chairs, a red phone, and
flags. Another room has leather lounges and forbids the use of
technology, another has pod-like seats and Jetsons overtones, and so on.
There’s a station in the middle of the office with joysticks and a
number of computer monitors bound together. This is the support zone
where new employees are meant to solve issues and then hit a button on
their game controllers to blast them away. There’s a full bar with
dozens of bottles of booze and a wooden barrel of the company’s own
Slow Merge whiskey. It all seems to say, “We’re nonchalant and
playful—by design.”
A big chunk of the $100 million has been earmarked for more than
additional salespeople and office hooch. GitHub plans to open its
collaboration tools up beyond the software kingdom. The company has
already seen designers, legal teams, and public relations pros using its
technology. “It has not been optimized for those things yet, but it
works for them,” says Preston-Werner. “Right now we’re
optimized for software, but who knows?” He refuses to budge on
exactly when GitHub for lawyers or chefs or city planners will emerge,
instead remarking that those products will be ready when they’re
ready.
What should be clear enough is that Andreessen Horowitz has identified
GitHub as a crucial piece to its “software is eating the world”
thesis. If software really is going to go out and conquer and retool
just about every industry, then lots of people are going to need good
tools to write and manage code for software-related projects. GitHub has
without question come up with a methodology that appeals to developers,
and if it’s able to carry this structure to other industries and
more mainstream professionals, then the company will indeed be making
plenty of awesome—and plenty of cash.
|
|
