TWO: Large-Scale Integration

“When LSI’s customers wanted new functions, most of the designers would simply respond, “There’s no way.” Huang would say, “Let me see what I can do.”

Huang would spend hours fiddling with the simulator, attempting to arrange the list of components to enable what the customer wanted. This was painstaking work, conducted without the assistance of graphical user interfaces or even color monitors. His focus was admirable, but Horstmann knew many engineers who could become similarly absorbed in technical problems; what set Huang apart was his ability to avoid dead ends. “Similar people, they get lost, right?” Horstmann said. “They just get lost in these deep, deep ratholes. He doesn’t. He has a great sense of seeing when a problem has reached a certain level of complexity, and he can’t easily make further progress, and he has to go in a different direction.”

LSI’s most demanding customers were the computer-graphics designers, whose appetite for faster silicon knew no point of satiation. To serve them, Horstmann, with Huang’s encouragement, began signing contracts to deliver products that, internally, the two had no idea if LSI could actually make. Older engineers advised the two to be more cautious. Do you know what you’re doing? they’d say. If this fails, it may be the end of your career. “It was true, but that never troubled us,” Horstmann said. Almost everything Horstmann and Huang promised was eventually delivered.

The product was known as a “graphics accelerator,” and at least thirty-five competitors were trying to build one. Huang worried there was no space for a thirty-sixth. The leading expert in computer graphics was Jon Peddie, who had written several textbooks on the topic. Huang had reached out to Peddie to get a sense of the market, and the two soon became friends, with Huang calling incessantly, asking questions late into the night. Peddie advised Huang that the space was too crowded and that many of the best engineers were already working for other start-ups. “I told him not to do it,” Peddie said. “That was the best advice he never took.

FOUR: Thirty Days

“When David Kirk arrived at Nvidia’s offices for the first time, in 1996, he could see at once that the company was doomed. Kirk was a graphics expert who consulted throughout the Valley, which was like being a connoisseur of failure. He had watched a great many start-ups falter, including his own, and Nvidia exhibited all of the symptoms of a company hurtling toward insolvency. The employees looked haggard and demoralized, the quirky product didn’t fit with the market, and the supposedly chummy founders were now deadlocked in a “technical discussion” that was obviously more than just a discussion and obviously about more than just technology.

After a few weeks programming the emulator, Kirk realized he had a second, tacit role at Nvidia: curbing the technical ambitions of cofounder Curtis Priem. Kirk had invented the quadratic-mapping technique used in the NV1, but when he arrived at Nvidia, he advised the company to abandon it. “It was just an idea I had,” Kirk said. “I have lots of ideas.” But this only made Priem promote quadratic mapping more aggressively. Priem was a purist who dismissed technical compromises as spineless concessions to the money guys. “The way Curtis thinks is for the end point,” Malachowsky said. “But he doesn’t really have it in his makeup to, like, stay in business.”

Kirk soon realized that the abstruse question of whether or not to use quadratic mapping was a proxy for the more interesting question of who was actually in charge at Nvidia.

This was a little surprising, for while working at Nvidia was stimulating, it was never exactly fun; the corporate culture that Huang fostered was closer to Microsoft than Google, closer to IBM than Apple. But years earlier, Chiu, the Taiwanese physicist, had told Huang that he’d allowed him to do his “life’s work.” The phrase had stuck with Huang, and now he wanted to offer that same opportunity to his staff. “We want NVIDIA to be a place where people can build their careers over their lifetime,” the company wrote in its annual report. “Our employees tend to come and stay.”

The appeal lay in what Nvidia allowed you to achieve. It was not a secret that Huang pushed people hard. Thus, he attracted determined workaholics seeking to establish legacies as inventors. In the same way that a bestselling author didn’t stop writing, even many wealthy Nvidia engineers kept showing up to work each day to attack difficult technical problems. Those engineers collectively held more than fifteen thousand patents, but there was always something left to build.