There’s been a lot of discussion since iPadOS 26 was introduced in June about how Apple has finally moved the iPad away from Steve Jobs’ original vision, transforming it from a simple content consumption device into something more computer-like. Some celebrate this evolution, falsely pointing to features like windowed apps and sophisticated multitasking as some sort of weak proof that Apple has successfully abandoned the constraints Jobs imposed. Even wrongly proclaiming that the company swore it would never evolve their tablet experience. All of this completely misses something fundamental about what Jobs actually wanted to achieve with this device.

When Jobs introduced the iPad in 2010, he wasn’t trying to freeze technology in amber. He was solving a specific problem that existed at that moment: people needed something between their phone and their laptop that could handle everyday tasks more comfortably without the complexity of desktop computing. The iPad delivered on that promise beautifully, but the world didn’t stop evolving.

The most misunderstood quote in Apple history might be Jobs saying “If you see a stylus, they blew it.” People love to throw this around whenever the Apple Pencil comes up, as if it proves some grand betrayal of his vision. But context matters enormously here. He wasn’t even talking about tablets, but rather critiquing the Palm Pilots and Windows Mobile devices of the era that were impossible to use with just your fingers.

The Apple Pencil represents exactly the opposite philosophy. The iPad works perfectly without it for everything Jobs originally envisioned: reading, browsing, watching videos, checking email. But when you want to sketch an idea, mark up a document, or create digital art, having the option of precise input transforms what’s possible. Jobs would have appreciated this distinction because it maintains the core accessibility while expanding creative potential.

Think about how Jobs approached other products. The iPhone started simple but gained features like copy and paste, multitasking, and app folders. These additions didn’t betray the original concept; they enhanced it. Similarly, the Mac began as a revolutionary departure from command-line interfaces but evolved to include a ton of features that would have seemed unimaginably complex to early users.

What some see as feature creep, I see as natural evolution responding to how people actually use their devices. Students want to take notes by hand but also research on the web and watch Netflix. Artists sketch but also read the news and communicate with family. The iPad’s growing capabilities serve these real-world needs without forcing complexity on users who don’t want it.

The beauty of iPadOS lies in its layered approach. Someone buying their first iPad can still experience that magical simplicity Jobs championed at the product unveiling. Apps open full-screen by default. Touch remains the primary interface. The learning curve stays very gentle. But power users can gradually discover features like true windowed multitasking as their needs grow.

This is Apple fulfilling Jobs’ vision more completely than he could have imagined. He wanted computing to feel natural and accessible to everyone, not just technical experts. Today’s iPad achieves this across a much broader range of tasks than the original could handle. A child can play games and watch cartoons just as easily as a designer can create professional illustrations or a writer can manage complex documents.

The false narrative seems to assume that adding capabilities necessarily makes devices harder to use. But Apple has consistently proven this wrong by maintaining intuitive defaults while hiding advanced features until they’re needed. The iPad today is simultaneously more powerful and more approachable than ever before.

Jobs famously said that innovation means saying no to a thousand things so you can focus on what matters most. But he also understood that what matters most changes as technology advances and user needs evolve. The iPad team has honored both principles by saying no to complexity that doesn’t serve users while saying yes to capabilities that genuinely expand what’s possible. When users need truly complex workflows, the Mac remains the best tool available for that purpose, proving the iPad hasn’t become something it was never intended to be.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Some people will continue to argue that Apple has moved beyond Jobs’ original iPad concept to redefine the product, and that they’re fine with that departure. But I believe this truly misreads what actually happened. The iPad has grown into something even more remarkable than its creator originally envisioned while remaining true to its core promise of making computing more approachable for everyone. It’s become capable of things that would have seemed like science fiction fifteen years ago. That’s not the destruction of vision; that’s the best kind of evolution.