Juan David Campolargo

Thomas Siebel

I’ve never met Tom Siebel, never shaken his hand, or never even watched one of his talks before writing this. So why talk about him?

Honestly, I almost didn’t. But then I realized: Siebel changed my life. Not because of who he is or what he said, but because of what he’s done.

He donated the money that made the Siebel Center for Design (SCD) possible. I used that building for so many beautiful projects, such as The UIUC Talkshow _,_and worked on projects that wouldn’t have happened without a place like it.

And, sure, maybe he’ll read this. So this is part “thank you,” part “let’s actually make this work for students.”

Because if he ever reads this, I want him to help fix the problems.

Who is Tom Siebel?

Tom Siebel collected degrees from Illinois like a Pokémon:

  • BA in 1975
  • MBA in 1983
  • MS in Computer Science in 1985

He built Siebel Systems, a huge CRM software company, later acquired by Oracle for $5.8 billion. He also founded C3.ai.

But he never left UIUC behind. Siebel funded buildings and scholarships that genuinely changed campus: Siebel Center for Computer Science, Siebel Center for Design (SCD), and the Siebel Scholars program.

What I Admire About Him

I genuinely admire how much Tom Siebel believes in universities.

He loves the institution. He donates big, repeatedly, because he believes it makes the place better. And he’s right—had he not done so, the university would be worse off. My life, and the lives of thousands of students, would’ve been different. He created possibility.

In an interview, he explained why he gives so much to Illinois:

You've given an enormous amount of money to the university. Why?

I'm a strong believer in education. I think the University of Illinois is unquestionably one of the great education and research institutions on the planet. They provide unlimited resources for people to learn to explore, to develop their skills and to go out and make the world a better place, create jobs, create products, create companies, cure disease and contribute to lower environmental impact.

To the extent that I am active philanthropically, I'm relatively small potatoes in that picture, I would think. We tend to do a lot on basic research in universities, and also identifying bright young people and helping accelerate their academic and career development.

—Julie Wurth, UI's new Siebel Center for Design: 'I think it's for everybody'

If you’re that kind of person, a believer in the institution who wants to help, I respect that. I really do.

But…

The Ask

If you’re going to donate millions to create these buildings, you better make sure they actually work for students—and the people who want to create things—not the bureaucrats.

And no, this is not solved by asking hand-picked “student leaders” into a room, running a focus group, and asking, “So, what do you want?”

Do not rely only on the students easiest for administrators to identify. Formal leaders are probably useful, but they are not the whole builder population. Some of the most serious creators are invisible to the committee system: working late, testing ideas, failing quietly, making things nobody has approved yet.

The solution is to think about what you yourself would have wanted—or would want if you were a student.

But Tom, if you’re reading this and need ideas, here’s a shortlist of what I’d fix:

  • 24/7 badge access for actual builders: Let the serious, reliable students have the access they need. Earn it, keep it by creating. Renew monthly.
  • Microgrants on a one-page form: small $200–$20,000 grants decided quickly within 72 hours. Decisions made by you personally or by someone you fully trust. See Tyler Cowen’s Emergent Ventures for an example.
  • Gear and equipment: Make it easy and accountable for students to use gear, not locked behind confusing rules or constant supervision.
  • Culture of YES: Staff should start by assuming student projects are allowed, not the opposite. The Stanford Prison Experiment is real. Kill the bureaucratic behavior. The staff isn’t there to supervise or to justify their jobs, but rather to support students, help them with their projects, and create a culture of curiosity.
  • Students run the show: Learn from Heinz von Foerster’s Biological Computer Lab (BCL). Students lead the place and create whatever they want to create. Sure, have a few full-time employees for administrative and logistical support.
  • Treat students like self-sufficient adults: Let them work independently, without constant supervision or micromanagement from suspicious staff. People rise to the level of your expectations. Too much supervision kills initiative. I experienced moments where supervision felt less like support and more like suspicion. That kind of culture quietly teaches students to stop asking, stop trying, and go elsewhere.
  • Wall of Creation: Have an awesome public display—digital or physical, maybe even a giant LED wall, showcasing the coolest projects created each week. Run competitions for the best projects weekly, monthly, and yearly, with prizes, equipment, funding, or whatever resources people need most. Make it part of the culture so creating amazing stuff is the norm.
  • Fast approvals: 24-hour deadline. Miss it? Auto-approved.
  • Shop hours that match builder hours: Nights and weekends matter. Staff accordingly.
  • Builder Bill of Rights: Put it on the wall—24/7 access, lightning-fast approvals, tools that work when you need them, safety rules that protect without slowing you down, the freedom to experiment, the right to fail, and the space to build whatever you want. Student-run, student-led. This is why we create: to turn ideas into reality, to make things we want, and to leave something better than we found it.
  • Keep the building inspiring: No depressing sculptures, no ugly clutter. The space should energize you the moment you walk in—open, bright, and ready for creation. If you’re going to put art in here, make it inspiring, like the Hacker's Manifesto or The New 95 from 1517 Fund—something that makes people want to build, not sigh. The whole point is to spark ideas, not to weigh the place down with gloom. Don't ever make the building crowded with ugly sculptures that wreck the look and feel.

As a donor, you have the power to turn these spaces from bureaucratic resume farms into genuine launchpads for creativity, curiosity, and experimentation.

I know you have good intentions, but as they say, the road to hell is paved with them. SCD and spaces like it should be aircraft carriers for builders, not museums with rope stanchions. And don’t get me started on the Siebel Computer Science Building looking like a hospital, with most of the rooms always locked.

At SCD, I created things. I’m grateful for that. But too often, the building’s promise ran into limited hours, unclear approvals, missing gear, default suspicion, and the strange feeling that student creation had to prove its innocence before it could begin.

In the early days, it was amazing. They were still trying to figure things out. You could just show up and do things. Now it’s layered with guardrail policies that make it harder to create or do anything.

If you’re going to invest in these places, please go the extra mile to make sure they welcome the people who will actually build things, not just the resume padders. Learn from models like Tyler Cowen’s Emergent Ventures. Pressure the university to remove the friction. Guide them to create an environment that actually works.

Believe in the institution, sure, but make sure what you create doesn’t get buried in bogus bureaucracy.

Thanks, Tom.

Now, let’s learn from him. He has a really cool story.

Jailbroken Hack: Become a Cowboy

After his first Illinois degree, Tom didn’t jump into a cushy corporate job. He drove west in a pickup truck and worked as a cowboy in Idaho—cutting, baling, and stacking hay; moving cattle; and irrigating fields.

Then he laid sewer and water pipes on a construction crew.

This is how Siebel described this time of his life:

Siebel: After receiving my bachelor’s degree, I got in a pickup truck and drove west — through Nebraska, South Dakota, and Montana — and stopped in Idaho, where I got my first job. I was working on the Divine Ranch in Bellevue, Idaho. I was a cowboy: I cut hay, baled hay, stacked hay, moved cattle, irrigated fields. It was a great job and a great learning experience.

Interviewer: Now, a lot of people at that time were probably doing something less strenuous when they graduated from college—maybe running off to Europe or doing something else. What motivated you to put yourself in a position where you were really working hard, taking care of yourself, and having such a different kind of experience?

Siebel: I think most people in my graduating class went on to more traditional jobs — with accounting firms, consumer products companies, financial institutions, whatever it may be. I may have had a bit of an adventurous streak, and I wanted to understand the West. I had spent quite a bit of time during high school on a ranch in Montana, and I was very attracted to the idea of ranching and to the West, and all that it meant. So I went out to experience it firsthand.

—Tom Siebel, Lincoln Academy 2008 Interview Tom Siebel

He eventually returned to Illinois, did some book-publishing work, and only later came back to campus for graduate school.

Funnily enough, I actually tried to do something similar after I graduated. But I couldn’t find a farm that really inspired me. I wasn’t looking for the romantic “feed the animals and watch the sunrise” experience. I wanted to learn the business of American ranching. But I couldn’t find anyone ambitious enough.

I really like this story because it’s something Tom really wanted to do, and he went and did it. You can step off the treadmill, do hard physical work, learn how reality behaves, then come back sharper. You won’t “fall behind.” You’ll add gears most of your classmates don’t have.

There’s something grounded about getting an internship or job where the work is brutal and tangible, a ranch, a factory, construction, a warehouse, anywhere the feedback isn’t a grade but a real, tangible result. You’ll come back allergic to bullshit and weirdly good at getting things done.

What I Took Away

I admire Tom’s belief in universities and the way he puts serious resources behind that belief. Thanks to his donations, my life and countless others’ have been better.

But if you’re going to donate millions, make sure what you create truly works, and isn’t buried under useless bureaucracy. Go the extra mile. Build a culture that attracts and keeps people who follow their curiosity and actually create things. You, more than anyone, can ensure that culture survives.

Because a building can be either an aircraft carrier launching students into greatness, or a museum filled with rope stanchions. You get to decide which.

When you donate, you set the default settings for what’s possible. Buildings and scholarships change the floor of possibility.

So, Tom—if you read this—thank you, genuinely. Now, please push the university to do right by your buildings, your name, and every builder who walks through those doors.

Learn more

Front cover for The Jailbroken Guide to the University
Use the appendixThe back of the book is part of the book.

The appendix keeps the examples, guides, profiles, and source trails close. The book gives them sequence, context, and a way to turn curiosity into action.