How Clinton Courts America's Techno Might

ERIC ELLIS San Jose

09/17/1997

California Freeway 101 is not the Washington Beltway, although it might as well be. As it wends its way 80 kilometres from "Multi-media Gulch" in San Francisco to San Jose, the "capital" of Silicon Valley, it passes the headquarters of Hewlett-Packard, Sun Microsystems, Silicon Graphics, Cisco Systems, Intel, National Semiconductor, Yahoo! and Netscape. Just as the term "Inside the Beltway" defines the political epicentre of the United States, so might "Along the 101" define its technological might, and exultant economic supremacy. With its output now almost half the US's entire industrial growth, Silicon Valley is the most important piece of economic real estate in the country, if not the world.

Its companies are worth eight times that of Hollywood, four times that of Detroit, and 20 per cent more than Wall Street, according to US Government statistics. Only Washington's civil servants contribute more to the economy than Silicon Valley - the quality of their "contribution" being a moot point for many. Money and power are natural bedfellows, so it's no surprise that powerbrokers on the two sides of the nation are striking up a potent romance. And it is true love. Hollywood might cast it as the Geeky Fat Boy meets the Brooks Brothers Politico-Technocrat. Washington certainly does.

The contrast with Australia is stark. The Clintons and the Gores busily go about assembling a national brains trust of cross-cultural gurus - Gore is known as an avid Internet "surfer" and gives national policy addresses using tech terms like "download", while Clinton communicates by e-mail with daughter Chelsea, who chose Stanford University in Silicon Valley over the east coast Ivy League colleges.

The second Clinton presidency is all about projecting it, the Democrats and the US as the progressive force propelling the world into the new millennium. And just as Silicon Valley fits that profile perfectly, the valley's heavyweights respond enthusiastically in kind.

President Clinton has designated Vice-President Al Gore as the White House's Official Geeky Fat Boy. Every month, over a typical Silicon Valley meal of pizza, sandwiches and mineral water, a dozen or so valley heavies meet with Gore and run through the issues that concern them - "Gore-Tech", as it's known to insiders.

"They're not unlike the meetings we have in the valley," says Gore-Techie 35-year-old Kim Polese, who helped devise the Internet's new Java system and whose Marimba Inc software start-up is one of the valley's brightest stars.

"We brainstorm ideas and we figure out ways to achieve them. It's all very can-do and there's no hierarchy, no bureaucracy, no barriers to get in the way."

The Gore-Techies are the valley's leading edge - young, rich and committed.

Members include Polese; Marc Andreesen, the 30-year-old co-founder of Netscape; the aptly named Halsey Minor, 32-year-old founder of CNET; Steve Perlman, inventor of WebTV; Jerry Yang, founder of Yahoo!; Chuck Geschke, president of Adobe Systems; Intuit founder and new Apple director Scott Cook; and Sandy Robertson of investment bank Robertson Stephens, which was recently bought by Bank of America. Their unofficial chairman is venture capitalist John Doerr, the legendary senior partner at Kleiner Perkins Caulfield and Byers, which has backed Netscape, Intel, Sun and Compaq.

"Washington is very receptive to what we have to say. Al Gore knows Java is not just a place, or a cup of coffee," he said. "Even though the Internet is taking off during a Democrat Administration, I really think it's bipartisan. Remember, the Internet first got going in the Reagan-Bush era."

But it's the Democrats who've claimed it as their own politically. Gore's approach is the envy of Republicans, mired partly by the creaking nightly news image of the Gingriches, Lotts and Helmses as outdated troglodytes. California-based GOP lobbyist and political consultant Dan Schnur laments that "the White House and Vice-President's Office have been absolutely masterful in the way they've worked this community".

"I can talk to CEOs about how they shouldn't support Clinton because he opposes capital gains tax cuts, but if they just had beer and pizza with Al Gore the night before, I'm only going to get so far." Gore, the Democrats front-runner to take over from Clinton in 2001, is sold on the notion that Silicon Valley and its variations are the future of the US economy.

Since becoming Vice-President in 1993, he has visited the valley 18 times and was responsible, after valley urging, for the Internet being mentioned for the very first time in an inauguration speech when Clinton took the oath of office in January this year.

Democrat and liberal, Silicon Valley is emerging as a rich source of political finance, enabling Gore to look further afield than Taiwanese Buddhist monks to find his way to the Oval Office.

At least two wealthy Gore-Techies have contributed to the Democratic Party and several have been invited to fund-raising functions. It's probably money well spent. By talking to the top at its invitation, Silicon Valley gets access not even the most skilled Beltway lobbyist could hope for.

Consider the contrast to the money spent by tobacco and telecommunication companies. According to the watchdog Centre for Responsive Politics, the computer industry spent just under $US20 million ($28 million) in 1996, an election year, representing dozens of affiliated interests. Cigarette giant Philip Morris spent about $US19 million alone, and the top 10 phone companies coughed up a collective $US32 million.

The annual budget for the industry lobby that represents Silicon Valley interests is $US4 million. The equivalent group that represents electronic media spends $US27 million. Silicon Valley got suddenly politicised last election when valley moguls banded together in a $US40 million lobby to defeat what became known as Proposition 211.

This was a proposal that sought to ease the way for shareholders to bring legal action against companies for suddenly slumping share prices.

In the options paradise of Silicon Valley, where 70 new tech millionaires are minted every day and once great companies like Apple can be humbled overnight because a competitor built the proverbial better mousetrap, the lobby successfully argued 211's nature was "un-American", that it discouraged the entrepreneurship that is the lifeblood of the region.

Just as the kids show mum and dad how their family computer works, Silicon Valley tends to get its way in Washington because it tells it what to do. And Washington has tended to defer to the presumed superior knowledge of the boffins. Gore likens his own learning curve to the way a web page appears on a computer, with its gradually increasing sharper definition. But when he asks Silicon Valley to show him more of the future, they tell him to buy a faster modem.