Every CEO should know the parable of Tim Cook
The story that explains all strategy
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At the start of my book, No Bullshit Strategy, I make a disclaimer.
The gist is that the examples I use to explain my concepts are, in all likelihood, completely inaccurate. I don’t really know how things went down in those companies, and so my explanations shouldn’t be taken as historical records.
Now some might think that this lowers their educational value, but on the contrary, it raises it.
Because (as one or two other teachers from history have demonstrated), people don’t learn from facts and figures.
Instead they learn from parables.
A parable doesn’t have to be true in a dreary literal sense. What matters is that it represents some deeper truth that historical accuracy would only muddy. And I think this is why the business world continues to be fascinated by the story of Apple.
Apple - as perhaps befits a brand named after the forbidden fruit of Eden - is the ultimate business parable. The mythological telling of its history (which is perhaps only vague accurate), contains every strategic lesson a leader ever need know.
And now, with the departure of Tim Cook, I believe the parable is complete. Because he added the final chapter that allows us to understand all forms of strategic leadership, and how they work together.
So I want to tell you this parable again here, as nothing else will give you such a complete understanding of the art.
Sit back and enjoy the story of the grower, and the harvester.
The grower and the harvester
When all’s said and done, there are really only two types of CEO.
The grower
The harvester
Each has their place. Each has their season. But unfortunately, because people don’t understand these archetypes, we rarely see either of them deployed effectively. One exception to this however, is Apple - home to purest grower and harvester pair who’ve ever trod the soil.
Jobs was a grower. Or perhaps I should say he was the grower. Nobody has ever, or will ever, embody the archetype quite as purely as he.
The grower, as you can imagine, grows the business.
They make all the strategic moves and bold decisions that I write about in my essays. Their focus is on value creation, and dragging people with them to a higher vision that only they can truly understand.
They are leaders in the truest sense - because a leader, by definition, must lead people to somewhere. To a different place than where they started. A place where there is danger, uncertainty, but also glory.
To put it this way, one might think that everyone should be a grower.
But there’s a problem.
Aside from the fact that not many people have the natural chops for this, the truth is that there are many downsides to being a grower, all of which Jobs helpfully demonstrated for us.
Growers often fail. Not every seed they cast will bear fruit. There is luck and art in what they do, it can’t be reduced to a reliable replicable science. Jobs failed many times at Apple, most notably when he was ousted to mark the end of his first stint in charge.
Growers leave money on the table. Because growers are focused on value creation (not collection), they often make principled decisions that aren’t optimal for the bottom line. Think of Jobs’ famous declaration that he’d never make a phone that can’t be used with one hand - swiftly contradicted after his death. These principles create wonderful brands, but not always such wondering balance sheets.
Growers create a “problematic” work culture. Because of their vision and principles, growers are often not seen as the best to work with. They create work cultures that are ruthless, intense, and most definitely not “kind”. A classic example is Jobs’ famous “reality distortion field”. Truth be told, they are often described as assholes.
Whether it’s Branson, Bezos, Musk, or Knight, all legendary growers tend to have “complicated” legacies because of these characteristics. Especially at the most extreme ends of the spectrum.
But, nevertheless, it is the growers who create businesses that are truly extraordinary, and brands that stand completely alone in their markets. It is they who create categories, gather raving fans, and who understand the tenets of true competitive strategy deep in their bones.
However, as we know, the seasons change.
The grower doesn’t remain forever. They step back, they’re ousted, or, in the case of Jobs, they die, and a new leader takes their place:
The harvester.
You never see a successful grower be replaced by another one, because by that time the company has become so established and valuable that it needs a “safe pair of hands” to steward it. Often an internal promotion, perhaps the CFO or something like this.
The remit given to the harvester by the shareholders is simple: make money. Or, for our purposes here, harvest.
What this typically means is that when the harvester takes over, the business starts making more money. A lot more. Because they are unencumbered by the awkward visionary principles of the grower, they are free to do the “sensible” thing, and exploit the asset that’s been created.
And in this respect, Tim Cook was the consummate harvester.
Under his guidance, Apple became astronomically successful - far more so than was ever achieved under Jobs. As I mentioned before, he did “no brainer” things like making the phones bigger, turning Apple into a luxury brand, raising prices, etc. etc.
In this, we understand a very important distinction between the grower and the harvester:
The grower wants to create value
The harvester wants to collect it
Although these activities are related, they are not the same thing. Any CEO should be able to recognise that sometimes there are things that are good for the customer, but which don’t make more money. And equally there are sometimes things that make more money, that aren’t necessarily good for the customer.
Most leaders - being temperamentally of the harvester type - naturally spot the latter opportunity more than the former. They see the money. And in the eyes of shareholders, this can make them very popular.
Beyond this, harvesters are popular in other ways that growers aren’t:
Harvesters don’t tend to fail. All harvester actives are fairly low risk, since they are literally just “gathering the fruit” that has already been grown. It’s not really rocket science if the hard bit has already been done.
Harvesters create pleasant work cultures. No longer does the business need to be run like a military cult. It can be fair, kind, and gentle. When you’re living off the fat of the land, everyone can relax a bit.
Harvesters are great for the press, and the stock market. Cook has often been rightly described as a statesman, who could rub shoulders with royalty, and calm the choppy waters of the market with his smooth and reassuring approach.
Harvesters, at least initially, they make it look easy.
But again, there’s a problem.
No matter how bountiful, a harvest can’t be gathered forever. All the way through the harvester’s reign, what’s actually happening is that he’s drawing down on the brand. And every passing year, the asset is weakening.
In reality, there is no way to harvest without gradually eroding the brand.
The harvesting activities, as we’ve established, are in direct opposition to growing ones - just as picking a fruit is the opposite of planting it. However, that being said, the great harvesters - and Tim Cook is unquestionably one of them - have the skill to do their task while causing minimal damage.
When you think about it it’s actually insane that Apple have somehow managed to remain the coolest hardware brand after what many see as a decade of stagnation. This is partially due to the strength of the legacy Jobs left, but it’s also to do with the taste and restraint with which Cook plucked the fruit.
Another example of brand that has successfully avoided killing the golden goose is Ferrari. They are hugely more successful than they were in the days of their founder Enzo, and although their brand mythos has waned since then, it’s never dropped low enough to kill demand - even when they finally succumbed to the pressure to release the inevitable SUV.
But even with these impeccable examples, it’s clear that good times can’t last forever.
Ferrari aren’t able to fill waiting lists for their cars in quite the way they used to. And after famously mocking Microsoft in their “I’m a Mac” ads, it is Microsoft who’ve had the last laugh by outstripping Apple in the AI race and the stock market.
Whether you like it or not (and you won’t like it), eventually…
…you have to plant again.
What this means for you
What I’ve described here, is probably a gross misrepresentation of Cook’s true story. So apologies there.
But as a parable, there’s nothing truer.
The distinction between creating new value (growing) and monetising assets (harvesting) is the fundamental dividing line that not only separates the breeds of leader - but which perhaps also runs through the middle of each of our own hearts.
I can tell you from experience that the harvester mindset is far more common than the grower. And this is fundamentally where most business issues arise, because either:
There is nothing meaningful to harvest due to the growth task never being done, or
The harvest has run barren, and the season is changing
I want you to consider which of these situation best describes your own.
If you are a founder, entrepreneur, or CEO of an SME it’s likely to be the former. You want to grow, but you are taking the harvester’s mindset to the task. You are constantly looking for “where you can make money”, and never really looking for “where you can create value”.
If you are a leader in a big, successful, corporate brand, it’s more likely to be the second scenario. Likely the growth days of the brand are over, it’s hit maturity, it’s been harvested and signs of strain are showing. The landscape is changing, new competitors are emerging, but the company has grown complacent after so much feasting.
In both cases, the grower’s mindset needs to be invited back into the business - with all the attendant risk, mess, and controversy that entails.
The good news however is that a lot of this mess can be mediated by doing the growth work in a controlled and conscious fashion. The carnage of the Jobs or the Musk primarily arises because they are naturals, which is to say they do the stuff I write about as a pure by-product of who they are. This is clearly the most powerful and exciting scenario, but it’s also a bit crazy.
For the rest of us, almost nobody is a natural like that. And perhaps this is good. Because although we might not become the stuff of myth, it means we can use the best of their techniques in a minimally damaging way.
This is what I’m here to help you with. Either through my content, or of course by doing it with you.
And if you want to talk about that, hit reply to this mail.



A great read. It certainly makes me reflect on the many different leaders across industries and organisations I’ve worked for! I can see what you’re saying for sure 👀
Love this, Alex. The idea that eventually you have to plant again feels exactly right for Apple now. I wrote about this through a slightly different lens — founder, operator, steward — and the question of what John Ternus now has to protect: https://substack.com/home/post/p-195234491