Kamram Elahian started his life over on April Fools Day, 1992 -- the day he was fired from the company that he had created. Even back then, when he was just 38 years old, Elahian was adept at new beginnings. At the age of 18, he left his native Iran for the United States. He remade himself again at 27, chucking a career at Hewlett-Packard to lead a software startup called CAE Systems Inc. Three years later, Elahian cofounder his second startup, Cirrus Logic Inc. The company went public in 1989 and eventually achieved a multibillion-dollar valuation.
As he helped steer Cirrus through its IPO, Elahian and his cofounders secretly mapped out another startup, Momenta Corp. Momenta promised to be his biggest success. But he learned that in the all-or-nothing world of fresh starts, failure is inevitable -- and invaluable.
Now 47, Elahian still isn't finished making fresh starts. He is chairman of 10 Silicon Valley organizations and one venture-capital fund, Global Catalyst Partners. He didn't fall victim to the dotcom crash because he failed first and he failed smart. When dotcom mania was at its height, he kept his head.
The world is Elahian's stage. His various business cards are printed in Japanese, Chinese, and Arabic as well as in English. His travel schedule keeps him in perpetual motion. But in his office in Redwood Shores, California he is almost preternaturally calm. And he is unflinching as he recalls the failure that gave him a shot at a more meaningful success. In the early 1990s, pen-based computing was the Next Big Thing. As chairman, president, and CEO of Momenta, Elahian was at the vanguard. The company's pyramid-shaped computer, which could recognize a user's handwriting, made the cover of 20 magazines.
There was just one problem. No one bothered to build a market for pen-based computers. In three years, Momenta burned through $40 million. That's pocket change by dotcom standards, but back then it was real money. For a while at least, Elahian held the Valley's title for burning the most capital in the shortest period of time. Momenta was a monumental flop.
Still, Elahian was unprepared for the sight that greeted him when he walked into work on April 1, 1992. Momenta's board -- his board -- was holding a meeting. He was not invited. In fact, the board had just voted to oust him.
Months after he was fired, Elahian realized that his most spectacular failure was his most precious gift. It toughened him for even greater risk taking -- in his life as well as in his career. Failure steeled him to eventually launch six Internet and telecommunications startups from 1993 to 1999. Failure propelled him to start Global Catalyst. And failure spurred him to embark on his most audacious mission: to wire every school in developing countries and countries in conflict -- including Bulgaria, Cambodia, and Israel -- for the Internet. But none of that was apparent on the day he was fired. "I put three years of my life into that company," he says. "I felt like I'd lost my child. I went numb."
More to the point, Elahian went into deep denial. The next morning, he dressed for work, grabbed his briefcase, and headed for the door. His wife called out, "Where do you think you're going?" Only then did it hit him. His tenure as CEO was over. He would have to build something entirely new.
What propels someone to abandon a fast-track career and risk everything for an unproven venture? Twenty-two years ago, when Elahian was a hotshot software engineer at HP, the answer was clear: He was getting promotions, but he wasn't getting ahead.
Elahian arrived at HP after earning a master's degree in computer graphics at the University of Utah, a pioneer of that industry. He started in the corporate-engineering group, developing design-automation software. Within his first year, he asked to lead a project. But his boss rebuffed him, arguing that it would take five years for Elahian to land a managerial title.
He was determined to find a shortcut to the top. Acting on the advice of Silicon Graphics and Netscape founder Jim Clark, who had earned his PhD at Utah, Elahian enrolled in an advanced course in integrated-circuit design at Stanford. He kept his day job at HP; at night, he attended classes. After nearly a year, he produced a design. He sent the chip to be fabricated, but when it came back, it failed to work.
Elahian was dumbfounded. "I confronted my professor: 'I thought you said that any software engineer could become a chip engineer.' The professor replied, 'I said that any good software engineer could design a chip. You're a lousy engineer.' "
Elahian chuckles. "My professor was right," he says. "I was not a great engineer. I still believed I was a winner. But that darn chip helped me discover my weakness. It set me on a course that would let me build on my strengths."
Working with a team of four top-flight software designers, Elahian mapped out a company -- CAE Systems -- that would use computer graphics to help systems engineers design chips. After nearly three years at HP, his life in the corporate ranks was over. He would become an entrepreneur.
Still, it was tough for Elahian to leave HP. "My boss's boss took me to lunch at a Chinese restaurant and pushed hard to get me to stay. I had a lot of respect for him. I second-guessed myself. But then I opened my fortune cookie. I burst out laughing. It read, 'Don't listen to bad advice. You will be successful.' After that, my mind was made up. I never looked back."
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