Sony has always believed that controlling the format means controlling the future. That belief drove the company to invent, to compete, and sometimes, to lose. But it is in those gambles, the successes and the failures, that Sony's identity was forged.
So when the fight for the future of media began again, Sony came prepared. The mistakes of the past were still fresh. The next home video standard would not just be a Sony format. It would be a coalition. One backed by tech giants, movie studios, and hardware makers. Everything Sony had once gotten wrong, it now set out to do right.
Sony had won with the CD but lost control with DVD. That format was led by Toshiba with support from a wide group of companies. Sony was involved, but it was not calling the shots. For a company that believed in setting the standard, playing a supporting role was not enough. Blu-ray was a chance to get back in front. To own the next evolution of optical media and this time to do it on Sony's terms.
To lead the effort, Sony turned to someone who had been there from the start. Masanobu Yamamoto was part of the original team behind the Compact Disc in the late 1970s. Decades later, he returned to oversee the development of Blu-ray. Yamamoto brought with him a deep understanding of both engineering and diplomacy. He knew that winning this time meant building bridges, not walls. And he was determined not to repeat the mistakes of the past.
Before Blu-ray had a name, it had a challenge: high-definition video. By the early 2000s, it was clear that 1080p content was coming fast and that DVD did not have the capacity to handle it. The underlying research for a blue-violet laser with a shorter wavelength, capable of writing smaller pits and fitting far more data onto a disc, had been evolving since the 1990s. Discs still offered the best balance of cost, durability, and scalability, and Sony was among the first to see the technology's potential for commercial media. With Yamamoto back, the company made its decision. The future of HD would still spin.
HD DVD was Toshiba's answer to the future of discs. Backed by Microsoft, Intel, and Universal, it promised a cleaner path forward. Like Blu-ray, it used a blue-violet laser to increase capacity, but it did not try to reinvent the medium. The structure was nearly identical to DVD, which made it faster and cheaper to produce. It held less data, but for most studios, that was enough. Authoring tools were more stable. Menus were slick thanks to Microsoft's interactive layer. It was not bold, but it worked. And for a while, in the face of Blu-ray's complexity, HD DVD looked like the safer bet.
Sony had learned the hard way that superior technology was not enough. This time, it would not try to win alone. Instead of going solo, Sony built alliances. It worked closely with Hollywood studios, hardware makers, and content distributors to rally support early. It helped form the Blu-ray Disc Association, a broad coalition with a shared goal to push the format forward together. Blu-ray did not just need to be better. It needed to be everywhere.
Still, the road was anything but smooth. HD DVD reached the market first, with early titles that looked sharper, featured faster menus, and suffered fewer bugs. In contrast, Blu-ray’s launch was shaky. Studios were cramming movies onto single-layer 25GB discs encoded in MPEG-2, leading to inconsistent image quality. The much-hyped dual-layer Blu-ray discs with 50-gigabyte capacity were nowhere to be seen. Rumors spread that they weren’t even real. For a while, Red looked stronger than Blu.
Then came the PS3.
Bundling a Blu-ray drive into every PlayStation 3 changed the game. Suddenly, millions of households had a powerful, firmware-upgradeable Blu-ray player, and they did not even buy it for that reason. It was a Trojan horse move, and it worked. The PS3's launch was expensive and the rollout was rough. It was mocked for its price and struggled early against the Xbox 360. But the strategy was not about selling consoles overnight. It was about scale. As production ramped up and prices dropped, Sony was quietly flooding the market with millions of Blu-ray players disguised as game systems. It took time, but it worked.
But momentum alone was not enough. Blu-ray still needed a decisive win, and it got one. In early 2008, major studios began to pick sides, choosing to abandon HD DVD and go all-in on Blu-ray. That move triggered a chain reaction. Retailers, rental services, and hardware makers quickly followed. In a matter of weeks, the tide turned. HD DVD lost its support, lost its shelf space, and lost its purpose. Even the most loyal supporters could see what was coming. Toshiba gave in. Just under two years after the war began, they held a somber press conference and announced HD DVD's official death. For Masanobu Yamamoto, it was the second time he had helped usher in a winning format. Sony had finally won.
Blu-ray's victory was the win Sony had spent decades chasing. After years of trying to define the future of media, Sony finally pulled it off. A global format, backed by the industry, embraced by the public, and technically ahead. This time, Sony had done everything right. It built alliances, stayed focused, and delivered a product that truly raised the bar.
But the moment didn’t last. Just as Blu-ray found its footing, the world shifted again. Streaming was rising fast. Netflix launched its digital platform in 2007. YouTube was exploding. Consumers were embracing instant, on-demand access, and Blu-ray came with baggage. Region coding, strict DRM, and constant firmware updates made it feel less like an upgrade and more like a chore. It was the best physical format ever made, but it arrived in a world already chasing something else.
Sony had finally won the war. But in doing so, it proved that the war itself no longer mattered. Today, 4K Blu-rays are still being pressed, but they feel more like collector’s items than a dominant format. Now, the sharpest picture often comes from the cloud. The clearest signal is convenience.
Blu-ray worked. It delivered. But the world had already moved on. For Yamamoto, it was a second legacy. One that defined high-definition for a generation, even as the future pulled in a different direction.
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I was so sick of new media formats coming down the pike every few years when the HD disc wars started, I was more than happy to jump to streaming. At the time, I worked at the most famous NYC video store chain, renowned for having rare and unusual titles, and I’ve been a big enthusiast of physical media since I was a child. But I just stopped buying, and streamed.
A bit later, I did buy a Blu-Ray player and a couple of rare titles that I thought would never be available in the States. I also set up 3D to maybe eventually watch those golden era 3D movies on my projector.
During COVID, when all the repertory theaters shut down, I got heavily into indie label Blu-Rays. It looked better than streaming, and the oversaturation and fragmentation of streaming led to an expensive, and mostly shoddy product.
I haven’t looked back, and I’m not alone: the collector’s Blu-Ray market has absolutely boomed these last few years, with more obscure titles than anyone can keep up with. Yes, it’s still a small, specialized market, but it’s really great for those interested in quality cinema.
Streaming continues to fragment, and mostly costs more than cable — its growth is no nonexistent — and there still isn’t a viable alternative for linear, live and sport programming, as cable is holding on to those markets with a death grip (which many be killing them for young people who have no history of watching cable).
I’m happy with my deluxe Blu-Ray editions, with lavishly illustrated booklets and nicely designed packages. Hopefully it’s here to stay. NYC just had its first Blu-Ray store open in Brooklyn.
Love everything about this publication.