Domains For The Masses
The tale of the founder of GoDaddy, a Vietnam vet who figured out the formula for getting regular people to buy domain names.
Today in Tedium: For obvious reasons, we’ve been discussing the work of web hosts lately. We kind of can’t get away from it. They’re essential to the way many people present themselves on the internet, and the best ones give us the platform … and get out of the way. But there was a time when hosting a website wasn’t trivial, and felt like a black box to the average person. Tools like, yes, WordPress helped us figure out that it wasn’t so scary, but we also needed web hosts that didn’t treat regular people like tech neophytes. Eventually, that web host appeared—and you’ve probably seen its Super Bowl ads. Today’s Tedium talks to Bob Parsons, the founder of GoDaddy, a company that probably did more than any other to reshape web hosting for the average person. Here’s how he did it. — Ernie @ Tedium
“The definition of courage is being afraid of something and doing it anyway.”
— A lesson Bob Parsons took from his time in Vietnam that he applied to his time in business, which has led to his leadership of two successful technology firms. Parsons, in his book Fire in the Hole, writes about his time leading GoDaddy, sure. But he also spends a lot of time considering the impacts of his time in the military, and how they colored his life and success.
Bob Parsons does not have the life story of a traditional tech billionaire. He has something way messier.
Look, I am not here to tell you that GoDaddy is the most beloved company in the world. It has its haters, in part because of its non-technical aim, and in part because of its once-edgy image (which we’ll get to). It is not, like, a cool developer-centric platform like DigitalOcean, Netlify, or Vercel. The developer bros of the world probably don’t take notes about the GoDaddy business model—not when the shiny metal object of generative AI has their attention.
(In case you’re wondering: Parsons is not a fan of the AI stuff. He used a profanity or two to describe it.)
But the fact is, it has held on better than nearly any company of its stripe, in part because of its broad market aim.
For better or worse, mostly better, it is the web hosting platform of the everyman, the place for people who need websites, but don’t want to think about whether they’re using Node.js, Python, or PHP to build that website. They just want to buy a domain and start a website.
And I think a big part of the reason it evolved this way was because of its founder, Bob Parsons. Talking to him over Zoom, I didn’t get the impression that he carried himself like a traditional tech CEO. He coasted through grade school, barely graduating, and when he finally made it to college, he was essentially handed a major because he had no idea where to start. His end goal was clearly not tech entrepreneurship, even if that’s where it led. During the call, he implied he stumbled into the lucky breaks that ultimately made him a billionaire.
One example was how his college experience, on a GI Bill scholarship, began at the registrar’s office. He went in after seeing an ad that said the option was available to him and did not consider old grades. He had been working in a steel mill at the time, and found out the opportunity was available to him.
“I didn’t even know what a major was—and nobody in my family ever went to college,” he recalled. “And so, eventually, they gave me this book of majors, where I could pick.”
The very first major in the book? Accounting. And so that’s what the person at the registrar’s office suggested. Good at math? Reasonably, he said. Like business? Sure, he replied.
“And then so he goes. ‘Well, you might want to take accounting,’” Parsons recalled. “So, I mean, that was the thought that went into it.”
(As we’ll get into later, that knowledge of accounting turned out to be his inroad into tech.)
But he’ll be the first to tell you that there’s some genuine trauma in his backstory, and that trauma has informed his life in complex ways. As highlighted by the title of his book, Fire in the Hole, he has a traditional military background, joining the Marines in the midst of the Vietnam War. He signed up, not the other way around.
But he did not get out unscathed. His time in combat was ended by a tripwire that triggered an explosion on the trail his squad was walking through. Had the explosion been under him, it likely would have killed him instantly. But it was just far enough away that he was seriously injured—though, given that he walked away with all his limbs, certainly less scathed than he could have been. (There’s that luck coming into play again, per Parsons: “The way I got wounded? I was jackpot lucky.”) And that effectively closed the door on his time in combat.
When he returned home, as a vet injured in combat, he was just 19. The emotional scars of his experience were just as messy as the physical ones. And arguably they lasted longer. From the book:
My experience coming home from Vietnam was hard—much harder than I’d expected. Because early on I had given myself up for dead, I could hardly believe I was actually going home. That was my gut reaction when I found out I was headed stateside.
For significant portions of his life, Parsons has suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), an issue serious enough to ruin marriages, one that Parsons often had to compartmentalize to make it through. It’s an issue he talks about at length in the book—and he makes it clear that just because he’s a successful guy now doesn’t mean he doesn’t carry that past trauma with him.
To be clear, Parsons grew up in a different era, at a different time of life, and before the rise of technology that ultimately connected the dots between his early life and later career.
And it turned out the decision to become an accounting major was what made it all work.
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29%
The percentage of soldiers who have served in Iraq and Afghanistan that will experience PTSD at some point in their life, according to data from the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs. For Vietnam vets, the number is 10 percent, but our understanding of the condition has changed significantly in recent years, making the number likely underreported. “I believe the Veterans Administration says that 30% of the people that engage in combat have PTSD,” Parsons says. “I believe 100% of the people that engage in combat have severe PTSD—it's just that those other 70% are able to push it down.” In his book, Parsons says he has experienced PTSD throughout his life, and likely affected his approach to business. He wrote that he “began to focus on everything outside myself.”
The secret to Bob Parsons’ success: Cheap prices and in-your-face advertising
If there are two lessons to be taken from the life of Bob Parsons, best known for democratizing access to the domain, the first is this: As difficult to manage as PTSD can be, you can have a successful life—even a successful business career—while navigating it.
The second: The bigger the ad, the better.
This was a lesson you probably can grasp from GoDaddy’s 2000s-era Super Bowl ads, which leaned hard on edginess and sex appeal. They were very much responsible for turning his second company into a household name.
But it was a lesson he actually learned from his first company, Parsons Technology. You probably don’t know about Parsons, which built accounting software in the 1980s and early 1990s before being acquired by Intuit in 1994. (See, I told you the major came in handy!)
It was bigger than you remember, active during a time when the way to get attention from the computer-buying public was to advertise in magazines.
And yes, you could find ads for Parsons’ MoneyCounts in magazines of the era. While Parsons didn’t trade in shareware, he leaned on the consumer-friendly end of software sales, pricing his application reasonably and skipping out on the copy-protection schemes popular during the era.
At first, the ads were minuscule, and the software much more expensive, but by 1987, the company was getting more ambitious and running ads at larger sizes. The reason for this, recalled Parsons, was a success story with a small, mostly forgotten computer circular—an old rag, really—called Computer Bargain Line.
“They called me, and they said, ‘We had the outside front cover,’” he recalled. “That's like being on the cover of Time or something like this.”
He had already spent through his ad budget/nest egg, but was offered a discount. What was traditionally a $17,000 ad was being offered to him for $5,000.
“I didn't have any money then, but I just thought, you know, if anything's going to work, this will work,” he said. “And I took my software and dropped the price down to $12.”
It worked, and by the end of 1987, he was able to quit his day job and sell accounting software full-time. (Three cheers for old computer rags.)
“I was on the front page of the Computer Bargain Line, baby,” he said.
When talking to him, I was struck by how neatly this lesson translated to his ads for GoDaddy two decades later. Despite the companies being sharply different in market and audience, his go-big-or-go-home philosophy felt like DNA passed down to GoDaddy’s advertising strategy, best exemplified by Super Bowl ads that were way edgier than the other advertisers.
The first one, airing in 2005, set out the template—a format heavy on sex appeal. This was a period where Paris Hilton notably washed a car in a skimpy bathing suit while trying to eat a Carl’s Jr. burger. GoDaddy’s approach, while not using a celebrity, was similar.
When trying to determine his approach to the Super Bowl, Parsons tried to put himself in the shoes of the audience.
“I'm thinking that most of them are at a Super Bowl party, they're talking and carrying on,” he recalled. “It's a social event, you know a lot of alcohol. How do I get their attention?”
He saw his moment of inspiration in a Mike’s Hard Lime ad. And like the Paris Hilton ad, it’s a highly sexualized talker. In the ad, a man with an incredibly long tongue licks the last drop out of his bottle. The camera pans to a trio of young women watching him in awe. One says, “I’d like one of those.”
“It came to me like God sent it to me,” Parsons recalled.
Parsons hired the agency that created it, The Ad Store, which then set him up with an equally provocative ad for the 2005 Super Bowl. The commercial, featuring a buxom model, a faux-Congressional hearing, and a broken spaghetti strap, was designed to upset the censors during the Super Bowl. And it ended up generating headlines well beyond what the company paid for, in part because the company actually bought two ads that year, one of which was banned.
In a CNN.com piece from the era reflective of the free media GoDaddy got that year, marketing expert Bernice Kanner said the strategy ultimately put the company on a lot of radars. "I have no idea what GoDaddy.com is," she said, adding that it likely drove massive website views. (Strange to keep in mind, but people at one point did not understand that web hosting was something you could buy.)
The strategy was so effective that other companies have come to emulate it—and some might argue the modern-day creator economy thrives on this dynamic.
“In college advertising, introduction to advertising, our first Super Bowl ad is taught in those classes,” Parsons said, proudly.
These ads were divisive, but the strategy continued. In one infamous example, the commercial showed a model making out with a nerd in an extremely up-close explicit way, with spokesperson Danica Patrick doing the intro.
The strategy worked for a while, as proven by the fact that you know the company’s name. But eventually, the company quit the provocative approach, acquiescing to parents who disliked the raunchy ads. GoDaddy, more recently, has stopped appearing in the Super Bowl altogether.
It feels like something companies couldn’t get away with today, given the culture wars we have long seen. Certainly in recent years, GoDaddy’s advertising hasn’t been so in-your-face. But it did what it set out to do—launch GoDaddy into the stratosphere.
Say what you will about it—Parsons made it clear that he has no regrets about the ad strategy. But it moved the website hosting and domain business out of the stuffy, enterprise-minded approach that ignored the fact that the internet was for everyone. Flower shops need website hosting, too.
And regular people need accounting software. The mixture of low prices and bold advertising is the thread that brought together Parsons’ two tech calling cards. Given the results, it’s hard to disagree with the strategy.
79.6M
The number of domains registered to GoDaddy as of 2019, the most recent year I can find data for. (Per their 2022 Annual Report, they owned 25 percent of the total domain market.) The company first became the world’s largest domain registrar in 2005, and has largely maintained that track record since. It is also the seventh-largest hosting provider in the world, according to W3Techs, ahead of major players like Squarespace and … yes, WP Engine.
These days, Parsons is largely out of the tech game, having gradually sold his control of GoDaddy for a combined $2 billion, and now mostly focuses on his golf venture Parsons Xtreme Golf. GoDaddy went public in 2015, but not on Parsons’ watch—long story short, he attempted to take it public in 2008, with the help of a financial service giant that had a notably bad 2008, Lehman Brothers. (He called it off at the last minute; he dodged a bullet there.)
GoDaddy has its faults. I will note, for example, that it has kicked off Russian nationals from owning a domain or hosting on its service, a blunt tool used at a time when numerous companies exited the Russian market. Having seen the effects it had on Yuri Litvinenko’s 30pin, a site I took ownership of, I think it’s a bad policy, albeit one that isn’t unique to GoDaddy. And not too long ago, the company announced it experienced a multi-year security incident. (To be clear, none of this stuff was on Bob’s watch.)
The truth is, no matter how complicated GoDaddy’s image is among nerds or site owners, it did something important: It made website ownership accessible to the average person, setting the template for an entire industry of companies ready to follow suit. Edgy ads or no, someone needed to make the process easy so that more people would do it.
“We did it as well, or better than, anybody—registering domain names, giving domain name management tools that were easy to understand,” Parsons says. “You didn't have to be some kind of Einstein to figure it out.”
On top of that, its prices were highly competitive, and combined with those ads, you had a hit on your hands. We can debate whether it was the kind of brand association GoDaddy ultimately wanted. (These days, it carries itself closer to Squarespace or Airbnb than Spike TV.)
Ultimately, though, it points to the fact that Bob knew his audience: small business owners, of the kind that often get short shrift in digital transformations.
“At the end of the day, what they want is they want easy,” Parsons said. “They want up and done, and they don't want to have to bullshit with it.”
Don’t we all.
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Find this one an interesting read? Share it with a pal! And thanks to Bob for sharing his time and insights.