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Ibuki answered without blinking: "You fire processes , not people. Then you ask the survivors to build a new Sony."

But Ibuki’s greatest legacy is not a number on a spreadsheet. It is a philosophy he called —"Reconstructing Emotion."

In a 2010 lecture at Kyoto University, he explained: "A company forgets how to make people feel something. We made the Walkman because we believed music should be private, mobile, and intimate. By 2003, we were making gadgets for a catalog. I did not save Sony. I just reminded Sony what it already knew: First, move the heart. The profit follows. "

That sensory rigor became his hallmark. By the 1990s, he had risen to head Sony’s core audio and video divisions, but his true test was yet to come. Most histories of Sony focus on Ken Kutaragi, the "Father of the PlayStation." But Ibuki was the godfather. As deputy president in the late 1990s, he saw that the gaming division was bleeding money due to a catastrophic supply chain error. The PlayStation 2 was a technical marvel—a DVD player and a game console in one—but its custom "Emotion Engine" chip was failing in mass production.

Colleagues describe a man obsessed with kankaku —a Japanese word meaning "sensory perception." While rivals crunched numbers, Ibuki listened. He famously tested prototype headphones for six months, rejecting dozens of designs until he found a bass tone that “felt like a heartbeat.”

He sold Sony’s non-core semiconductor plants, merged the music and movie divisions under one digital umbrella, and—most controversially—forced the electronics division to adopt a strategy: every product had to connect to a network. No exceptions. The Legacy of the Quiet Man By 2007, Ibuki had stepped down, having handed a profitable, leaner Sony to his successor, Howard Stringer. The stock had tripled from its nadir. The PlayStation 3, though expensive, was finally profitable. And for the first time in a decade, Sony’s TVs and cameras were sharing components and software.