Businesses succeed and fail in two ways: quickly and slowly. The quick path is often due to external factors like big technological discoveries, changes in the natural environment, or shifts in society and politics. The slow path, on the other hand, which is far more common, compounds over time from small decisions. In this article, I will focus more on failures of judgement with the understanding that the same principles apply on the positive side.
Slow business failure is rarely the result of a single decision. It works more like a child who steals a cookie in the hopes that nobody sees them. When they realise that they were not caught, they return until the jar is empty and crumbs are everywhere. It’s a slow path to a point of no return. Likewise, poor judgement emerges gradually, as a small problem overlooked because there are more important things to deal with. As the overlooked problem grows, it becomes the next important thing, while yet another small problem emerges. Eventually, the waves compound into one crisis after another, at which point the business fails.
Kodak provides a clear illustration of how judgment can fail even in organisations with deep expertise and strong resources.
Kodak invented the first digital camera in 1975. The company understood the technology early and employed some of the best engineers in the industry. From a technical and intellectual standpoint, Kodak was well-positioned to lead the transition from film to digital photography.
However, their film business was highly profitable and digital seemed like a distraction from its core business. So Kodak continued to optimise around existing revenue streams. Over time, assumptions that had once been valid no longer held. Value creation moved away from film and toward software, sensors, and digital ecosystems. By the time Kodak tried to reposition itself, competitors like Canon and Nikon had already claimed those spaces.
The failure was not due to a lack of intelligence or effort. Kodak not only saw the signal, but they also created it. What failed was judgment—interpreting the signals, weighing trade‑offs, and deciding what to prioritise.
This is how most businesses drift into the abyss: not through sudden collapse, but through a series of reasonable decisions made on increasingly invalid assumptions.
Judgement
Judgment refers to the capacity to decide what matters, when it matters, and what can be safely ignored. It governs prioritisation, timing, and the interpretation of incomplete information.
Judgment is often conflated with intelligence. In practice, the two are distinct. Many poorly run organisations are led by intelligent individuals with access to sophisticated tools, capable advisors, and extensive experience. However, the capacity to see clearly, exercise restraint, weigh consequences, and act deliberately under uncertainty is what ultimately makes the difference.
As organisations grow, complexity increases faster than understanding. Decision-making becomes distributed, context fragments, and the feedback loops that once informed leaders become weak, and sometimes worsened by internal politics. In sum, three forces tend to erode judgment.
First, rewarding speed: Judgement erodes when decisions are made quickly to maintain momentum without fully understanding the implications.
Second, consensus over first principles: In many organisations, decisions are made by how quickly they secure agreement rather than how well they reflect first‑principle reasoning. Meetings converge on what feels acceptable to the group and its culture, even when underlying assumptions remain unexamined.
Third, performance incentives: Financial targets, funding cycles, and personal performance metrics can fall into the trap of compositional fallacy. This is when a good thing done by everyone yields a bad output. For instance, when sales teams become aggressive, they often compromise values and tarnish the organisation’s image.
Individually, these forces appear rational. Collectively, they compound and undermine judgment.
Compounding
Both good and bad judgments compound, but they do so asymmetrically.
Sound judgment tends to compound quietly. It shows up as fewer emergencies, slower but more reliable progress, and a growing margin for error. Each good decision slightly improves the conditions under which the next decision is made.
Poor judgments compound noisily, but later. Early on, they look like speed, consensus or performance. However, a tell-tale sign of bad judgement is that the next decision becomes harder and narrows the margin for error. Eventually, one must make do-or-die decisions to avert one crisis after another.
A simple example can be seen in hiring. A single compromised hire rarely causes immediate failure. The organisation adjusts. But that hire shapes future decisions: standards slip, accountability blurs, and subsequent hires are made to manage the first mistake. Over time, the system reorganises itself around the original misjudgment to a crisis in culture and productivity.
This is why judgment matters less in any single decision, and more in the ripple effects and how they compound over time.
Discipline
Clear thinking requires slowing down when speed is rewarded, questioning assumptions when templates are available, and resisting action when understanding is incomplete. It involves distinguishing symptoms from causes, examining incentives before implementing solutions, and viewing the organisation as a system rather than a collection of tasks.
These practices are rarely visible and seldom celebrated because their value lies in what they prevent.
Durable organisations have predictable patterns. Decisions are made from first principles rather than consensus. Fundamentals are well understood. Authority is grounded in clarity and reason rather than charisma. Knowledge is transferred more than it is rediscovered. Decision-making is decentralised but still aligned to the overall strategy. Durable organisations are coherent.
The source of organisational coherence and durability is sound judgement from clear thinking.
In Closing
I write about business from this perspective because the same patterns recur across industries and contexts. The most persistent problems are not technical. They are failures in judgement. Importantly, failures in judgement are not immediately catastrophic; they slowly become apparent, compounding over time to create a crisis.
Likewise, we mythologise leaders with good judgement because of what they have accomplished. A closer look, however, reveals a less dramatic rise and a commitment to thinking slowly and carefully, questioning assumptions over consensus, and aligning incentives with the right actions.
Clear thinking does not eliminate uncertainty. It improves the quality of decisions made within it. Over time, that difference compounds.