
Once the richest man in the world, Bill Gates, is not a new face for many people. He not only revolutionized the computer world, but also spent millions of dollars to make the world a better place. This week he left his 'fate builder' Microsoft Corporation and will be active in the Bill and Melinda Gates foundation, a humanitarian organization founded by himself and his wife Melinda.
This week SharedTalks has decided to post his speech which he delivered at the University of Harvard, USA, on 7 July 2007. In fact, he himself had joined Harvard, but dropped out soon in order to quench his thirst of self-innovation. Remembering his days at Harvard, he said,
"Radcliffe was a great place to live. There were more women up there, and most of  the guys were science-math types. That combination offered me the best odds, if  you know what I mean. This is where I learned the sad lesson that improving your  odds doesn't guarantee success."
Below is his full speech where he talks about the true meaning of success and how to get it.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Commencement address at Harvard University, June 7, 2007
President Bok,
former President Rudenstine, incoming President Faust,
members  of the Harvard Corporation and the Board of Overseers,
members of the faculty,  parents, and especially, the graduates:
I've been waiting more than 30 years  to say this: "Dad, I always told you I'd come back and get my degree."
 
I want to thank Harvard for this timely honor. I'll be changing my job next  year and it will be nice to finally have a college degree on my resume.
 
"I hope you will judge yourselves not on your professional  accomplishments alone, but also on how well you have addressed the world's  deepest inequities, on how well you treated people a world away who have nothing  in common with you but their humanity."
 
I applaud the graduates today for taking a much more direct route to your  degrees. For my part, I'm just happy that the Crimson has called me "Harvard's  most successful dropout." I guess that makes me valedictorian of my own special  class I did the best of everyone who failed.
 
But I also want to be recognized as the guy who got Steve Ballmer to drop out  of business school. I'm a bad influence. That's why I was invited to speak at  your graduation. If I had spoken at your orientation, fewer of you might be here  today.
 
Harvard was just a phenomenal experience for me. Academic life was  fascinating. I used to sit in on lots of classes I hadn't even signed up for.  And dorm life was terrific. I lived up at Radcliffe, in Currier House. There  were always lots of people in my dorm room late at night discussing things,  because everyone knew I didn't worry about getting up in the morning. That's how  I came to be the leader of the anti-social group. We clung to each other as a  way of validating our rejection of all those social people.
 
Radcliffe was a great place to live. There were more women up there, and most  of the guys were science-math types. That combination offered me the best odds,  if you know what I mean. This is where I learned the sad lesson that improving  your odds doesn't guarantee success.
 
One of my biggest memories of Harvard came in January 1975, when I made a  call from Currier House to a company in Albuquerque that had begun making the  world's first personal computers. I offered to sell them software.
 
I worried that they would realize I was just a student in a dorm and hang up  on me. Instead they said: "We're not quite ready, come see us in a month," which  was a good thing, because we hadn't written the software yet. From that moment,  I worked day and night on this little extra credit project that marked the end  of my college education and the beginning of a remarkable journey with  Microsoft.
 
What I remember above all about Harvard was being in the midst of so much  energy and intelligence. It could be exhilarating, intimidating, sometimes even  discouraging, but always challenging. It was an amazing privilege-and though I  left early, I was transformed by my years at Harvard, the friendships I made,  and the ideas I worked on.
 
But taking a serious look back I do have one big regret.
 
I left Harvard with no real awareness of the awful inequities in the  world-the appalling disparities of health, and wealth, and opportunity that  condemn millions of people to lives of despair.
 
I learned a lot here at Harvard about new ideas in economics and politics. I  got great exposure to the advances being made in the sciences.
 
But humanity's greatest advances are not in its discoveries-but in how those  discoveries are applied to reduce inequity. Whether through democracy, strong  public education, quality health care, or broad economic opportunity-reducing  inequity is the highest human achievement.
 
I left campus knowing little about the millions of young people cheated out  of educational opportunities here in this country. And I knew nothing about the  millions of people living in unspeakable poverty and disease in developing  countries.
 
It took me decades to find out.
You graduates came to Harvard at a  different time. You know more about the world's inequities than the classes that  came before. In your years here, I hope you've had a chance to think about  how-in this age of accelerating technology-we can finally take on these  inequities, and we can solve them.
Imagine, just for the sake of  discussion, that you had a few hours a week and a few dollars a month to donate  to a cause-and you wanted to spend that time and money where it would have the  greatest impact in saving and improving lives. Where would you spend it?
 
For Melinda and for me, the challenge is the same: how can we do the most  good for the greatest number with the resources we have.
 
During our discussions on this question, Melinda and I read an article about  the millions of children who were dying every year in poor countries from  diseases that we had long ago made harmless in this country. Measles, malaria,  pneumonia, hepatitis B, yellow fever. One disease I had never even heard of,  rotavirus, was killing half a million kids each year-none of them in the United  States.
We were shocked. We had just assumed that if millions of children  were dying and they could be saved, the world would make it a priority to  discover and deliver the medicines to save them. But it did not. For under a  dollar, there were interventions that could save lives that just weren't being  delivered.
 
If you believe that every life has equal value, it's revolting to learn that  some lives are seen as worth saving and others are not. We said to ourselves:  "This can't be true. But if it is true, it deserves to be the priority of our  giving."
 
So we began our work in the same way anyone here would begin it. We asked:  "How could the world let these children die?"
 
The answer is simple, and harsh. The market did not reward saving the lives  of these children, and governments did not subsidize it. So the children died  because their mothers and their fathers had no power in the market and no voice  in the system.
 
But you and I have both.
 
We can make market forces work better for the poor if we can develop a more  creative capitalism-if we can stretch the reach of market forces so that more  people can make a profit, or at least make a living, serving people who are  suffering from the worst inequities. We also can press governments around the  world to spend taxpayer money in ways that better reflect the values of the  people who pay the taxes.
 
If we can find approaches that meet the needs of the poor in ways that  generate profits for business and votes for politicians, we will have found a  sustainable way to reduce inequity in the world.
 
This task is open-ended. It can never be finished. But a conscious effort to  answer this challenge will change the world.
 
I am optimistic that we can do this, but I talk to skeptics who claim there  is no hope. They say: "Inequity has been with us since the beginning, and will  be with us till the end-because people just don't care."
 
I completely disagree.
 
I believe we have more caring than we know what to do with.
 
All of us here in this Yard, at one time or another, have seen human  tragedies that broke our hearts, and yet we did nothing-not because we didn't  care, but because we didn't know what to do. If we had known how to help, we  would have acted.
 
The barrier to change is not too little caring; it is too much  complexity.
 
To turn caring into action, we need to see a problem, see a solution, and see  the impact. But complexity blocks all three steps.
 
Even with the advent of the Internet and 24-hour news, it is still a complex  enterprise to get people to truly see the problems. When an airplane crashes,  officials immediately call a press conference. They promise to investigate,  determine the cause, and prevent similar crashes in the future.
 
But if the officials were brutally honest, they would say: "Of all the people  in the world who died today from preventable causes, one half of one percent of  them were on this plane. We're determined to do everything possible to solve the  problem that took the lives of the one half of one percent."
 
The bigger problem is not the plane crash, but the millions of preventable  deaths.
 
We don't read much about these deaths. The media covers what's new-and  millions of people dying is nothing new. So it stays in the background, where  it's easier to ignore. But even when we do see it or read about it, it's  difficult to keep our eyes on the problem. It's hard to look at suffering if the  situation is so complex that we don't know how to help. And so we look away.
 
If we can really see a problem, which is the first step, we come to the  second step: cutting through the complexity to find a solution.
 
Finding solutions is essential if we want to make the most of our caring. If  we have clear and proven answers anytime an organization or individual asks "How  can I help?," then we can get action-and we can make sure that none of the  caring in the world is wasted. But complexity makes it hard to mark a path of  action for everyone who cares-and that makes it hard for their caring to  matter.
 
Cutting through complexity to find a solution runs through four predictable  stages: determine a goal, find the highest-leverage approach, discover the ideal  technology for that approach, and in the meantime, make the smartest application  of the technology that you already have-whether it's something sophisticated,  like a drug, or something simpler, like a bednet.
 
The AIDS epidemic offers an example. The broad goal, of course, is to end the  disease. The highest-leverage approach is prevention. The ideal technology would  be a vaccine that gives lifetime immunity with a single dose. So governments,  drug companies, and foundations fund vaccine research. But their work is likely  to take more than a decade, so in the meantime, we have to work with what we  have in hand-and the best prevention approach we have now is getting people to  avoid risky behavior.
 
Pursuing that goal starts the four-step cycle again. This is the pattern. The  crucial thing is to never stop thinking and working-and never do what we did  with malaria and tuberculosis in the 20th century-which is to surrender to  complexity and quit.
 
The final step-after seeing the problem and finding an approach-is to measure  the impact of your work and share your successes and failures so that others  learn from your efforts.
 
You have to have the statistics, of course. You have to be able to show that  a program is vaccinating millions more children. You have to be able to show a  decline in the number of children dying from these diseases. This is essential  not just to improve the program, but also to help draw more investment from  business and government.
 
But if you want to inspire people to participate, you have to show more than  numbers; you have to convey the human impact of the work-so people can feel what  saving a life means to the families affected.
 
I remember going to Davos some years back and sitting on a global health  panel that was discussing ways to save millions of lives. Millions! Think of the  thrill of saving just one person's life-then multiply that by millions. Yet this  was the most boring panel I've ever been on-ever. So boring even I couldn't bear  it.
 
What made that experience especially striking was that I had just come from  an event where we were introducing version 13 of some piece of software, and we  had people jumping and shouting with excitement. I love getting people excited  about software-but why can't we generate even more excitement for saving  lives?
 
You can't get people excited unless you can help them see and feel the  impact. And how you do that-is a complex question.
 
Still, I'm optimistic. Yes, inequity has been with us forever, but the new  tools we have to cut through complexity have not been with us forever. They are  new-they can help us make the most of our caring-and that's why the future can  be different from the past.
 
The defining and ongoing innovations of this age-biotechnology, the computer,  the Internet-give us a chance we've never had before to end extreme poverty and  end death from preventable disease.
 
Sixty years ago, George Marshall came to this commencement and announced a  plan to assist the nations of post-war Europe. He said: "I think one difficulty  is that the problem is one of such enormous complexity that the very mass of  facts presented to the public by press and radio make it exceedingly difficult  for the man in the street to reach a clear appraisement of the situation. It is  virtually impossible at this distance to grasp at all the real significance of  the situation."
 
Thirty years after Marshall made his address, as my class graduated without  me, technology was emerging that would make the world smaller, more open, more  visible, less distant.
 
The emergence of low-cost personal computers gave rise to a powerful network  that has transformed opportunities for learning and communicating.
 
The magical thing about this network is not just that it collapses distance  and makes everyone your neighbor. It also dramatically increases the number of  brilliant minds we can have working together on the same problem-and that scales  up the rate of innovation to a staggering degree.
 
At the same time, for every person in the world who has access to this  technology, five people don't. That means many creative minds are left out of  this discussion-smart people with practical intelligence and relevant experience  who don't have the technology to hone their talents or contribute their ideas to  the world.
 
We need as many people as possible to have access to this technology, because  these advances are triggering a revolution in what human beings can do for one  another. They are making it possible not just for national governments, but for  universities, corporations, smaller organizations, and even individuals to see  problems, see approaches, and measure the impact of their efforts to address the  hunger, poverty, and desperation George Marshall spoke of 60 years  ago.
Members of the Harvard Family: Here in the Yard is one of the great  collections of intellectual talent in the world.
 
What for?
 
There is no question that the faculty, the alumni, the students, and the  benefactors of Harvard have used their power to improve the lives of people here  and around the world. But can we do more? Can Harvard dedicate its intellect to  improving the lives of people who will never even hear its name?
 
Let me make a request of the deans and the professors-the intellectual  leaders here at Harvard: As you hire new faculty, award tenure, review  curriculum, and determine degree requirements, please ask yourselves:
 
Should our best minds be dedicated to solving our biggest problems?
 
Should Harvard encourage its faculty to take on the world's worst inequities?  Should Harvard students learn about the depth of global poverty the prevalence  of world hunger the scarcity of clean water the girls kept out of school the  children who die from diseases we can cure?
 
Should the world's most privileged people learn about the lives of the  world's least privileged?
 
These are not rhetorical questions-you will answer with your policies.
 
My mother, who was filled with pride the day I was admitted here-never  stopped pressing me to do more for others. A few days before my wedding, she  hosted a bridal event, at which she read aloud a letter about marriage that she  had written to Melinda. My mother was very ill with cancer at the time, but she  saw one more opportunity to deliver her message, and at the close of the letter  she said: "From those to whom much is given, much is expected."
 
When you consider what those of us here in this Yard have been given-in  talent, privilege, and opportunity-there is almost no limit to what the world  has a right to expect from us.
 
In line with the promise of this age, I want to exhort each of the graduates  here to take on an issue-a complex problem, a deep inequity, and become a  specialist on it. If you make it the focus of your career, that would be  phenomenal. But you don't have to do that to make an impact. For a few hours  every week, you can use the growing power of the Internet to get informed, find  others with the same interests, see the barriers, and find ways to cut through  them.
 
Don't let complexity stop you. Be activists. Take on the big inequities. It  will be one of the great experiences of your lives.
 
You graduates are coming of age in an amazing time. As you leave Harvard, you  have technology that members of my class never had. You have awareness of global  inequity, which we did not have. And with that awareness, you likely also have  an informed conscience that will torment you if you abandon these people whose  lives you could change with very little effort.
 
You have more than we had; you must start sooner, and carry on longer.
 
Knowing what you know, how could you not?
 
And I hope you will come back here to Harvard 30 years from now and reflect  on what you have done with your talent and your energy. I hope you will judge  yourselves not on your professional accomplishments alone, but also on how well  you have addressed the world's deepest inequities on how well you treated people  a world away who have nothing in common with you but their humanity.
 
Good luck.