The first time I met Steve Jobs, he walked out of the room. It was 1994, he was chief executive of NeXT Computer and exiled from Apple, and I had asked him why he made beautiful, expensive machines that only a few enthusiasts wanted. He swore at me, barked “I created the Mac and it’s still the best!” and was gone. Five years later, after he had returned to the company he co-founded, I wrote that he had saved Apple, but said I didn’t care, because Microsoft enjoyed a near-monopoly in personal computer software and so controlled computing. This view was conventionally savvy, but wrong. Mr Jobs has turned out to be much more influential than Bill Gates.

As competitors, Apple and Microsoft have been the two poles of technology. Microsoft sold its software, uncomfortably bundled with the hardware of manufacturers, to corporations. Its customers were IT functionaries whose concerns were cost and risk; its products were ugly compromises, developed in response to market research, which no one loved. But Apple sold integrated hardware and software directly to consumers. It strove to elicit passionate fandom from its customers; its products were simple, elegant, genuinely novel devices.

Today, Apple enjoys near-monopolies in tablet computers and music players; its iPhone outsells all other smartphones. More surprising, its computers’ sales have outpaced Windows personal computers for several years. As Microsoft wanes, Apple waxes. The latter’s market capitalisation is more than $355bn; the only company of comparable value is ExxonMobil. By contrast, Microsoft’s capitalisation is about $211bn. Mr Jobs has succeeded by turning hundreds of millions of people into Apple enthusiasts.