PlayStation, Sony and the Art of Being Kaz Hirai
So you’re the CEO of a unit within a global brand that just lost the banking and personal details of around 100 million users around the world. You still don’t know who hacked into your system, your stock price is down, the U.S. Congress is banging on your door for answers and middle America has a class action lawsuit breathing down your neck. So what do you?
You don your best suit, situate yourself at the helm of your glass encased Tokyo high-rise office with the city’s arteries of luxury cars beaming kaleidoscope lights in the background, you paint on your sexiest sly grin, and turn on the camera. You then tell the Internet that you understand its pain. And you’re very sorry about the troubles you’ve been a part of recently.
But you point out that every relationship has its ups and downs, particularly when a jealous third-party intervenes. At this, your eyes sparkle and you curl the side of your mouth into a muscular hieroglyph that reads empathy and fun. You tell the Internet that everything is going to be alright. You outline a plan to not only insure this promise with your company’s cash, but then present a shiny “welcome back” trinket designed to express your true contrition and desire to win back the love and trust another party would see so roughly violated.
You do all this in English, not your native language, but a language you have sculpted to the contours of your lips with such measured persistence that only the best ears can tell that you’re actually thinking in obscure Far East pictograms. You close by reminding the Internet why this beautiful relationship started in the first place. Your recall the trust, the good times, the bond forged over decades.
And just at that moment, you wink at the camera so rapidly that it appears to the casual observer as a glint of light skating across your cornea. Once more, that reassuring not-quite-a-smile. And then, you sign off.
This is the art of being Kazuo Hirai. Click here for the video.