To me it sounds more like NIH syndrome. Wolfram was young, smart, cocky, and didn't really know much about computation when he started - but was convinced he could do a better job if he started from scratch.
He remains two of those things to this day. I have no doubt Wolfram is legitimately a genius (despite his arrogance and tendency to take credit for other people's inventions) and I adore Mathematica as it is, but I can't help but wonder how much better it would be if Wolfram's personality was less... abrasive.
I've never met him but have read some of his stuff over the years and talked to a few people who have (met him).
He strikes me a clearly very smart, just not as smart as he thinks he is (not uncommon, but more rare at his level of talent I think). An aside: For what it's worth, I find the "genius" label problematic in general, not just for him. I think it's a concept that probably has useful application, but to < 1% of the people to whom it's applied.
His abilities as a technical writer are middling, unfortunately, and at some point being able to communicate your ideas is almost as important as the ideas.
I too wonder how much further Mathematica could have got if he hadn't pushed away a number of clearly talented people.
I agree genius is overused and try to avoid it. My point was I get the impression that he might really deserve it, but his personality leaves you with a distinctly bad aftertaste. I've only met maybe 2 or 3 people I really thought deserved the label, though I guess it's hard for me to judge given that I'm certainly not one. I do however mean a genius as measured purely by ability... in my mind there is a distinction between people who have the abilities of a "genius" versus someone with the achievements of a genius. Hard work by normal people most often often produces the latter, whereas the former case is much harder to identify.
And I agree wholeheartedly... I once had students ask me why I put so much emphasis on lab reports in an [upper level engineering course]. My sincere belief is that at least 50% of working in a technical field is your ability to communicate. The most genius answer has little value if you can't properly articulate it.
ANKOS is the exact example I have in mind when I think about this. Really I find the premise that cellular automata are somehow fundamental to computation and the universe interesting (though maybe I don't buy into it to the same degree as Wolfram), but his presentation of this thesis is so dreadfully tedious and conceited as to squash any desire I might have to investigate it.
I heard that when he was writing and editing ANKOS, he rejected a picture of a panther that was to be used to illustrate reaction-diffusion textures in nature, because he didn't like the expression on its face. ;)
Perhaps the best property of ANKOS is that it is a clear demonstration of what sort of trouble you can get into when a book doesn't have an (effective) editor.
I'm certain there is a small, interesting, well written book hiding in all that verbiage somewhere, but it's well hidden.
