Leadership isn’t a Playbook - It’s a Person

I've been in the TV trenches long enough to know the difference between a show that didn't work and one that never had a chance. It's not about bad scripts or weak concepts. The real disappointments are the ones where we left our A-game gathering dust because a choice was made to not do the work.

Leadership is everything in this biz. Every writers room I've sat in has been shaped by the showrunner - their battle scars, their gut feelings, bad marriages, previous projects, blind spots, and what they think making "good TV" looks like.

You can't fix a show’s culture with a pep talk or a whiteboard session. It's dictated by the alpha in the pack, usually without them even knowing they're doing it.

I helped launch a show where the creator had never actually worked in TV before. They'd made some cash writing movie scripts, but those scripts got Frankenstein'd by other writers before they hit the screen. This person was desperate to level up their career, so they had a mantra of saying Yes to anyone above their pay grade. Yes to the studio execs who were already packing their offices due to a regime change. Yes to the non-writing EP who'd never worked in TV and still considered it a disposable medium.

Our scripts were hollow copies of old movies - no emotion, no depth, no variety. And the kicker - the studio never gave us notes. Not because they thought we were crushing it, but because they'd already written us off. My new colleagues mistook the silence for a standing ovation. They had no idea they were actually hearing a flatline. The DNR was inevitable. They didn't know what they didn't know. And… they didn’t want to know.

I had another show crash and burn the same way. No feedback from above, not because we were nailing it, but because the decision-makers were avoiding challenging internal politics. Some of us recognized the signs - we knew that without some tough love and effort on those scripts, we weren’t being all we could be. By then, the culture was set. Leadership didn't see the trainwreck coming and wasn’t getting paid enough to hit the brakes.

This tumult isn't just a TV thing. It plays out everywhere:

Game of Thrones thrived under the leadership of David Benioff and D.B. Weiss when they had George R.R. Martin’s books as a guide. But once they outpaced the source material, their ability to maintain the depth and complexity of the storytelling faltered. The final seasons were rushed, lacking the methodical pacing and layered character development that defined the early seasons. HBO would have given them more episodes, but they chose to speed through the ending—possibly because they were eager to move on to Star Wars, which they ultimately didn’t get.

The takeaway: leadership decisions affect the product, and when leaders prioritize their own exit strategy over the work, the cracks become obvious.

The last decade of DC films has been defined by chaos. Unlike Marvel Studios, which had consistent leadership under Kevin Feige, Warner Bros. cycled through multiple creative leaders—Zack Snyder, Walter Hamada, and now James Gunn. Each leader had a different vision, leading to reboots, cancellations, and a lack of audience trust. Projects like Black Adam and The Flash suffered from unclear direction, as leadership changes created uncertainty about which films "mattered."

The lesson: without stable leadership and a clear direction, even a studio with deep pockets and beloved IPs can struggle. Now that the Broccolis have handed the James Bond reins to Amazon, who will be their “M”? Their Feige, Gunn… Kennedy.

Netflix revolutionized streaming but also created an unsustainable culture where executives greenlit projects without fully understanding the traditional development process. Shows were often canceled after one or two seasons, frustrating audiences and creators. This lack of commitment wasn’t because the shows were bad, but because Netflix's leadership valued constant churn over long-term investment. After taking some incoming, they changed course in 2024 and got back to domination.

The lesson: leadership that prioritizes short-term metrics over storytelling craft creates an unstable creative ecosystem.

When Elon Musk took over Twitter, he made sweeping changes based on instinct rather than industry best practices. He fired key staff, eliminated content moderation, and overhauled verification—decisions that alienated advertisers and drove users away. Whether one sees Musk as a genius or reckless, his leadership style reshaped Twitter’s culture overnight.

The lesson: a leader’s personal beliefs and instincts override any playbook. If the leader thrives on disruption, the company will be defined by chaos.

Mark Zuckerberg’s obsession with the metaverse led Meta to pour billions into an idea the market wasn’t ready for. Despite pushback from employees and investors, Zuckerberg remained committed to his vision. The result? Mass layoffs, budget cuts, and a pivot back to AI once it became clear that VR worlds weren’t the next big thing.

The lesson: leadership that is too insulated from reality can lead an entire company down the wrong path.

Brexit was driven by leaders who sold an idea without fully grasping its consequences. David Cameron called the referendum expecting it to fail. Boris Johnson championed Brexit but lacked a clear plan. Successive leaders struggled to implement it smoothly, leading to years of economic and political instability. The lesson: leadership decisions shape reality, and when leaders don’t understand the mechanics of their own decisions, the fallout can last for years.

The U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan in 2021 was a leadership failure at multiple levels. While the withdrawal was inevitable, the execution was chaotic, with intelligence failures, miscommunication, and a lack of contingency planning. The Biden administration assumed the Afghan government would hold longer than it did.

The lesson: even when a course of action is correct, poor leadership in execution can turn it into a disaster.

Leadership determines everything. Not fancy strategies. Not mission statements. Not corporate buzzwords. Just a human being making choices based on what they've lived through, what they believe, and what they can't (or don’t want to) see.

You can learn about great leadership from a book — but you can’t teach it. You can't coach instinct. Can't train vision. All you can do is accept the reality: every show, every company, every project, every country - lives or dies by the human at the wheel.