Commerce One has nothing if not a vision. Reborn out of DistriVision in 1997, the company went public in 1999 and since then has been aggressively hawking a future where employees around the world, at companies of all sizes, would conduct business at ultraefficient e-marketplaces powered by its software. In its private marketplaces, one company connects with its own suppliers and customers; in its public marketplaces, many buyers and sellers in one industry come together to bargain for goods and services. Commerce One envisions a "global trading web," at which thousands of these marketplaces would link together to become "the world's largest B2B mall," as AMR Research analyst Bruce Richardson describes it. "The challenge is separating the vision from what's currently available," says Richardson, senior vice president of research strategy at the Boston-based consultancy.

To survive, Commerce One has to get enough companies to sign on so that the software is worth everyone's while. Commerce One's star account; Covisint, a public marketplace for the automotive industry founded by DaimlerChrysler, Ford and GM; has been famously slow in taking off, causing some to speculate that the model simply won't work because of competing interests. The technology isn't perfect, either. GM CIO Szygenda says that before Jones came on board, Covisint's auctioning software wasn't working properly. Jones got the problem fixed. "He will be a valuable asset for [Commerce One] because he understands what it takes to run a big operation," Szygenda says.

Jones comments, "It's very easy for me to understand [a CIO's] perspective and cut through the issues in a very quick fashion."

Even so, Commerce One's pattern of rapid growth has complicated matters. It grew from a full-time staff of 25 in 1996, to 157 in 1998, to 3,766 at the end of 2000, before quietly laying off 10 percent of its workforce in the first quarter of 2001. In the past two years, Commerce One acquired four companies and formed partnerships with dozens more. While arch-rival B2B vendor Ariba has narrowed its focus, Commerce One shows no such inclinations. The more pieces of technology it picks up, though, the more the company struggles to describe its offerings in a simple way.

"[B2B commerce is] going down the hype cycle pretty rapidly," says Barbara Reilly, vice president of e-business management strategies at Gartner, a research company headquartered in Stamford, Conn. "There's disillusionment about how quickly companies can get people trained and get [B2B offerings] rolled out."

Wall Street agrees. As with many of its Nasdaq brethren, stock for Commerce One; which reported a first-quarter loss of US$25.5 million on revenues of $170.3 million; is trading at a fraction of its 52-week high.

Reilly says that the future of B2B companies hangs on whether they have enough cash in the bank to get them through the economic slowdown. "It's a tough, tough market," she says. "[B2B customers] are quickly losing their desire to reinvest. It's really sad to see that happen because I think that [B2B vendors] have the right vision. They need time, but I'm not convinced they're going to get that time."

Jones seems confident that Commerce One will survive. During lunch, when asked how he envisions the future of e-commerce, he sets aside the grilled chicken and fresh fruit that his assistant brings him every day from the cafeteria. He heads to the easel, where he sketches three phases of Internet business: the initial build-out from 1994 to 1996, when companies used the Internet as a billboard; the B2C period from 1995 to 1998, when companies used it to provide self-service; and the B2B period starting in 1998, as businesses reengineer how they work with suppliers and customers. Defending his opinion that this build-out period will take 10 to 20 years, Jones drops his unflappable facade for a moment. "It's always been my belief that the benefits businesses could have from B2B commerce would take longer to receive but would be greater in the end," he says emphatically.

There was no question that it was a strategic move for Commerce One to hire a CIO who is used to fast growth and well regarded by his peers. More mystifying is why Jones, who had about 10 job offers last spring, decided to put his reputation on the line for a company like Commerce One. He didn't sign on for the paycheck: Jones declined to disclose his compensation, but in 2000, according to Securities and Exchange Commission reports, even the CEO of Commerce One took home a comparably small $412,586 in salary and bonuses. If Commerce One fails, not only will Jones's stock options be worthless, but he could hurt his chance of someday running his own show. If Jones is troubled about his future, though, he's not letting on. "I'm not worried about me," he insists a few days after his promotion to president was announced. "I'm worried about serving the customers we have and the customers we don't have."

The reason for his move must be something less tangible: a high-stakes challenge that Jones simply couldn't refuse. It's also the fulfillment of a prediction made by his mentor, former FedEx President Peter Willmott, when Jones was just 23 years old. "He told me after I'd been there two or three months that I was going to be the president of a company someday. It was hard to absorb at the time. I hadn't begun to think that far ahead," Jones says.

Twenty-five years later, Jones is exactly where he wants to be. And his mind is entirely in the here and now. At a recent trade show, his first public appearance as an ambassador for Commerce One, Jones worked the room like a B2B old-timer. It was 81 degrees, and a muggy night was descending on the French Quarter in New Orleans. Out in the music-filled streets, tourists carried plastic cups of beer, but in the muted courtyard of the Ritz-Carlton, resolutely upbeat Commerce One employees ate hors d'oeuvres on little white napkins. Financial analysts in dark suits crowded around Commerce One's CFO. Finally, dressed in a blazer and slacks, Jones emerged and started making his way around the courtyard, pausing long enough to shake hands, exchange small talk and win converts. Dennis Jones was back in the game.

Do you think Dennis Jones is a visionary; or a dreamer? Tell Senior Writer Sarah D. Scalet at sscalet@cio.com.