The Art of Making Great Decisions: A Timeless Lesson from Sony Pictures
By David Matheson 
7 min read
How do you make a great decision every time—one that not only stands up to analysis but also drives real organizational change? This question was at the heart of an experience I had early in my career while working with Sony Pictures during a time of profound shifts in the entertainment industry. My collaboration with Mel Harris, a top executive at Sony Pictures, fundamentally reshaped my understanding of decision-making and leadership.
Facing an Industry at a Crossroads
The entertainment industry was at a critical turning point. The rise of home theater and the decline of their traditional content distribution models left companies like Sony Pictures scrambling new paths to profitability. Sony Picture’s long success trajectory was under threat, and the executive team, led by Mel, needed a strategy to adapt to the changing landscape. My role was to help them find a new path, drawing on my expertise in organizational decision-making and strategic analysis.
After months of workshops and rigorous analysis, we crafted what seemed like a bulletproof strategy. The numbers were clear: Sony Pictures needed to control more of its distribution channels in emerging markets like Eastern Europe. The recent fall of the Berlin Wall had opened up enormous growth opportunities as these regions built their entertainment infrastructures. By entering early and investing in these nascent markets, Sony could establish a strong foothold with relatively low costs. In contrast, the U.S. domestic market, while more familiar and “glamorous,” had limited growth potential and required paying steep premiums for entry.
The strategy was sound. The logic was tight. But, as I soon discovered, logic alone is rarely enough.
The right story isn’t a tool for persuasion—it’s a guide that propels action into the future.
The Importance of the Right Story
Despite the rigor behind the analysis, I faced an unexpected challenge while presenting the strategy to Mel. I walked him through the data, showed him the charts, and explained every rationale. But his response was the same each time: “David, I don’t get it.”
Frustration mounted. I rephrased, restructured, and re-explained, only to hear the same words. “David, I still don’t get it.” This wasn’t a matter of intellect—Mel was one of the sharpest minds in the industry. As he repeated the question, my anxiety grew—I really thought I was going to get fired that day. Why was he giving me this emotional wire brushing?
The lightbulb started to come on when Mel shared a story that would change everything. He reminded me of an earlier opportunity Sony Pictures had with B Sky B, an emerging satellite broadcaster. B Sky B had approached Sony, seeking content for its new satellite TV venture. Sony followed its standard playbook: negotiate the highest possible licensing fees. And they succeeded. But in hindsight, it was a missed opportunity. Cash-strapped B Sky B had begged Sony for an alternative deal: reduced fees in exchange for equity. Had Sony taken the equity, they could have owned a significant stake in one of the most profitable broadcasters of its era. Instead, they took short-term cash and walked away from long-term wealth.
Mel urged me to use this story to frame my recommendation, and my anxiety motivated me to take it to heart deeply. I realized that instead of focusing on charts and logic, I needed to connect with people emotionally. The B Sky B story did just that. It was simple, memorable, and emotionally charged—everything my analysis had failed to be.
Bridging Head and Heart
At the executive retreat, I shifted my approach. I began by presenting the rigorous analysis, absolutely necessary to demonstrate that this was a good path for Sony Pictures, but this time I didn’t dwell on it. I quickly moved on to the story of B Sky B.
“You could have owned B Sky B,” I said, pausing to let the words sink in.
The reaction was immediate. Executives who had been only half-listening moments earlier sat up straight. You could see the realization spread across the room. “We could have owned B Sky B?” they repeated to each other, their eyes wide with disbelief and regret. In an instant, the logic of the strategy clicked into place. They got it—not just in their minds, but in their hearts.
In those few seconds, I had accomplished what hours of explaining the analysis couldn’t. I had bridged the gap between head and heart. The executives weren’t just convinced—they were engaged. The strategy was no longer an abstract plan; it was a chance at redemption. The path forward became clear.
Changing the Future
After the meeting, I reflected on what had happened. For years, I had operated under the assumption that the decision itself was the main goal. But Mel’s wisdom revealed a deeper truth: A great decision isn’t complete until it leads to action. It’s not just about what people agree to do; it’s about ensuring they make the small, everyday decisions that turn intention into reality.
The power of the B Sky B story became even more apparent as Sony executives set out to execute the strategy. In their negotiations with new distribution channels, the old instinct kicked in—push for the highest licensing fees. But this time, something was different. The executives would pause, remember the lesson, and say to themselves, “We could have owned B Sky B.”
That single story reframed their thinking in a way that no amount of data could. It was a shortcut to the right decision, a concrete and emotional cue that shaped behavior in the moment. This is the power of the right story—not just to secure agreement on a strategy, but to bridge the old trajectory to the new one. It provides people with memorable, actionable guidance for all the little choices that make change happen.
Through Mel, I learned that great decisions aren’t just about what to do. They’re about ensuring that others can see and feel why it’s the right thing to do. The right story isn’t a tool for persuasion—it’s a guide that propels action into the future. By connecting the right story with the right analysis, the head and heart integrate to create both a shared vision of where to go and inspiring cues to keep on the path forward.
Lessons in Decision Leadership
It wasn’t until decades later that I realized that in those anxious sessions, Mel wasn’t really asking me about the strategy; he was teaching me about leadership. This lesson didn’t apply only to the analysis and driving action, it applied across the board and to all six dimensions of good decisions, including framing, information, alternatives and values.
Mel exemplified a rare balance of intellect and emotional intelligence. He didn’t just know the right moves to make; he knew how to move people. In an industry notorious for its backstabbing, betrayal, and executive turnover, Mel survived for over a decade, outlasting most of his peers. His secret? Smoking.
While other executives distanced themselves with flashy status symbols and power moves, Mel did the opposite. He smoked. Literally. Smoking was banned inside the Sony Pictures offices, so he would sneak outside to a spot behind the building—a gritty, unglamorous area by the dumpster where all the smokers congregated. As an executive, Mel could have stood apart, but instead, he blended in. He commiserated with his smoking colleagues. He listened to their complaints and joined in their gripes. And he gained something most executives never had: The Truth.
While other power brokers were fed filtered, sugar-coated reports from their subordinates, Mel got the real story. No one feared him. No one hid the truth from him. And he never betrayed the trust of his “smoking-pariah” peer group. This is how he knew the right moves to make—not because he had more data, but because he had deeper insight.
He knew what the real problems were and how to frame tough choices. He had a richer set of ideas and options for solutions. He had better information. He knew what was important to people. Mel knew how to use logic and analysis of course, but what made a great leader was integrating this with the human side. In my situation, the B Sky B story turned a dry analysis into a path to redemption.
In my situation, the B Sky B story turned a dry analysis into a path to redemption.
The Art of Great Decisions
Every great decision requires more than just analytical rigor or impassioned rhetoric—it demands the integration of both. The rigorous analysis gives the insight necessary to find a good direction. The experience I had with Mel Harris and Sony Pictures taught me the power of storytelling in leadership and decision-making. A story can cut through complexity and crystallize a vision so vividly that people can’t help but act on it. When these come together you can create a great new future.
I had the opportunity to work with Sony Pictures early in my career because I was well-schooled in the craft of decision science. But I was also naïve. It wasn’t until my painful (and necessary) experience with Mel that I realized there was an art of decision making as well. While the craft of decision science engages the head; the art of great decisions is engaging the heart.
This lesson has stayed with me. No matter how strong your analysis is, you still need the story. Because while the head may agree, it’s the heart that moves people to action.
