Don’t Build Something Great and Forget Who Matters
The Bite in the Apple reveals the hidden cost of genius. Chrisann Brennan, Steve Jobs’s first love and mother of his child, shows how Apple’s rise left scars. Beyond the myth, it’s a reminder for indie founders: don’t build greatness at the expense of the people who make you human.
It starts with love, loss, and the costs hidden beneath our icons.
The Bite in the Apple by Chrisann Brennan isn’t a story about startup glory or tech brilliance. It’s the shadow behind the Apple logo. A memoir about being close to genius—and paying for it. Chrisann was Steve Jobs’s first love, the mother of his first child, and one of the few people who saw the origin of Apple from inside and just outside the frame. Her story doesn’t glorify—it exposes. It’s honest, raw, and sometimes hard to read.
Genius Isn’t Enough
Chrisann met Steve in high school. She watched Apple form from the inside—first in conversations, then garages, then through the blur of a rising empire. Early Steve wasn’t a CEO; he was a seeker. Obsessed with ideas, spiritual wanderings, Indian ashrams, and acid trips. Restless. Magnetic. Unstable.
She captures a version of Jobs that doesn't fit the product launches or documentaries. Not a genius in control—but someone chasing something bigger than himself and often losing the people closest along the way. As Apple took off, Steve pulled away. From her. From baby Lisa. From the version of himself that once cared more about meaning than margin. He denied Lisa was his daughter, even as he was about to become a multimillionaire. He built the future and ignored the one he already created.
The Real Cost of Disruption
At the heart of this memoir is a quiet, brutal question: what happens to the people standing just outside the hero’s spotlight? While Steve stepped into fame, Chrisann was raising their daughter on scraps. He arranged child support to be minimal—right before the IPO. She was cleaning houses and living in a rental while Apple was printing money.
This is the part of the startup myth we skip. Every founder we celebrate stands on invisible scaffolding—partners, friends, collaborators who gave up something. Most are never written into the story.
It reminds me of co-founders who disappear after a Series A. Or indie teams where one person becomes the face, and the other fades out quietly. The truth is, startups often succeed on the backs of people we forget to thank—or even acknowledge.
Empathy Is Infrastructure
One of the most powerful things Chrisann reminds us: empathy isn’t a soft skill—it’s a foundational one. Early Apple felt like a collective experiment. Misfits and weirdos building something that felt like art. But the bigger it got, the colder it became.
Lisa’s childhood becomes a metaphor. Raised by a mother doing her best with almost nothing, while her father became a legend. The very machines that helped reshape the world couldn’t help the people in their creator’s own orbit.
The “cult of genius” that Chrisann names is still with us. We worship vision and forget impact. But some builders are changing that—teams like Elpha or Buy Me a Coffee, who bake empathy into the product. The shift isn’t just from “what are you building?” to “who are you building it for?”—it’s “who do you care about while you build?”
Meaning in the Mess
Chrisann’s story isn’t just about Steve—it’s about surviving proximity to power. She doesn’t become rich. She doesn’t get her own tech memoir. But she finds her way. Through art. Through community. Through raising a daughter who grows into her own truth.
There’s a lesson here for every founder, especially indie ones: greatness won’t save you from being alone. And a product doesn’t matter much if it costs you the people you love.
We think startups are built on code and capital. But often, they’re built on silence. People not speaking up. People left behind.
The Indie Litmus Test
So tomorrow, ask yourself:
Who am I forgetting while I build?
What would it take to include them?
Am I building more than software—am I building something human?
The Bite in the Apple doesn’t try to fix the myth. It just cracks it open. It reminds us: the cost of innovation isn’t just sleepless nights and tough sprints. It’s relationships. Reputations. Lives changed without consent.
Build the thing—but don’t lose the people. Because behind every glossy launch is a shadow. And it deserves to be seen.