Sony was the creation of two men–Masaru Ibuka and Akio Morita–who first met in 1944 and worked together for 40 years. Ibuka, the older of the two, was an electrical engineer, one of those people who can make something magical from string, sealing wax and an old battery. Morita was the oldest son of a distinguished family–sake brewers–and steeped in the precise, feudal practices of old Japan. (Morita’s reputation as the most “Western” of Japanese corporate leaders is only half the story; he never lost his reverence for Japanese traditions and hierarchy.) Armed with excellent connections to the Japanese business and political elite, the two men formed a company in May 1946.
Ibuka concentrated on finding a product they could mass-produce, and found it in the tape recorder; an electric engineer to the end, he never fully grasped digital technology. Morita, for his part, led Sony’s charge into the United States and in 1962 opened a showroom on Fifth Avenue. The Japanese flag that flew over the store was the first to be displayed in New York since the war. Indeed, Sony’s American adventures–and misadventures–take up much of Nathan’s book. The company bought Columbia Pictures in 1989 almost by accident. A board meeting concluded that the asking price was too high, and abandoned the bid. But then Morita mused, at dinner, “It’s really too bad. I’ve always dreamed of owning a Hollywood studio.” The board minutes were quickly rewritten.
The company’s fortunes now rest with another two men–chairman Norio Ohga and president Noboyuki Idei. Nathan makes plain that their relationship is not all smooth sailing. Ohga on Idei: “He doesn’t have as sharp a sense for making money as I do.” Idei on Ohga: “He complains about my speech at the management conference. Too conceptual! So I promise to behave the way he expects the president of Sony to behave. After all, he’s the daddy.”
Yet whatever their frustrations, Ohga and Idei have inherited a great legacy, one whose roots lie not only in smart business practice but also in the long friendship of Sony’s founders. In 1993 Morita suffered a massive stroke, and he died last week after years of failing health. Ibuka died in 1997. Not many business books move you to tears. But if readers can get through the eulogy that Morita’s wife read at Ibuka’s funeral with dry eyes, they are made of stronger stuff than this reviewer.
