Wilson Borges: From Soccer
Player to CEO of
Multinational Pharmaceutical Companies

The transition wasn’t automatic, but it was quick. Playing well in practice is one thing; playing well in a packed Maracanã is another, completely different matter—and it was this ability to perform under pressure, built through repetition and constant exposure to difficult situations, that he brought with him to Pfizer. He started as a sales trainee and, in just over a decade, became a manager and then director of marketing for Latin America and Canada, always pursuing courses and further education along the way—including an executive program at Harvard, completed by the same man who had joined the pharmaceutical company without a college degree. It was in this role, as director of marketing, that he became involved in what would become one of the biggest product launches in the industry’s history: he spent four years helping to develop Viagra even before the product hit the market, participating in the decision-making process for its name, positioning, and dosage, as part of a campaign initially starring Pelé and later featuring other figures, such as Francisco Cuoco, among others.

Throughout his career, his experience took him through five different corporate cultures — Pfizer, Roche, Biosintética, Wyeth, and Zambon —, and it was through moving between them that he formed the conviction he holds to this day: you can’t change a company’s culture, but you can understand it well enough to adapt without losing your own essence.

It was this understanding—of organizational culture and calculated risk—that underpinned the riskiest decision of Wilson’s career: leaving his stable position as president of Zambon to take over Medley, which was then in crisis, in a move that those who knew him viewed as a mistake. Within a year and eight months, the company turned a profit, gained market share, and saw its market value recover—a turnaround that began with a concrete action. Upon arriving, Wilson found a fleet of about 500 sales force cars that should have been replaced three years earlier but hadn’t been, due to a lack of cash. The month after his arrival, despite the same tight financial situation, he replaced all 500 cars at once, knowing that if the results didn’t materialize, it would be a major mistake. It worked: the move, combined with his technical understanding of the impact a renewed fleet would have on the sales team, helped unlock the growth that would follow.

The same willingness to take calculated risks emerged on other fronts at Medley—in working with generics and private-label brands, competing for market share with products that were still under patent, and in the creation of the “green wall”—a visual identity featuring a patented Pantone color that remains a recognizable symbol of the brand to this day, at a time when each of the company’s packages had a different look. Subsequent roles expanded this repertoire: at the helm of a company then controlled by an investment fund, which lacked its own development structure, he first established a robust in-house R&D division and then pursued inorganic growth through licensing and inter-company partnerships. At Natulab, a pharmaceutical company with a more commercial than prescription-based profile, the challenge was to move the company up from 30th place in the OTC rankings and position it among the top five in the OTC sector, with 35 consecutive months of growth above the market average—from approximately 5.5 million to 11.5 million units sold. The same script played out, company after company: understanding the existing structure, having the courage to change it, and sticking with the decision until results materialized.

It is this approach that underpins Wilson’s definition of leadership: not a matter of technical training, but the ability to bring out the best in each person and to make decisions in uncertain situations, without waiting for 100 percent certainty. An episode at Wyeth illustrates the point well. He was the only person in the world who did not follow the global positioning strategy for the launch of the antidepressant Pristiq, which cost him a year of conflict with headquarters’ marketing team—including a direct confrontation at an event in Miami on the eve of the launch. He stood by his divergence because he was well-informed and confident in his proposal, and the product was ultimately launched successfully with the local positioning. For him, the episode epitomizes a common mistake among executives: working to please the boss rather than working toward results. He always prefers to take the risk of being fired for what he did rather than for what someone asked him to do, and he sees this as the difference between good leaders and good managers who merely seek to please the hierarchy.

This willingness to stand by unpopular decisions, according to Wilson, only works when there’s a team—and this is where soccer comes into play again, more strongly than at any other point in the conversation. He credits the sport with teaching him that results don’t come from isolated talents, but from a group capable of organizing itself around a common goal, and he cites as a counterexample national teams packed with stars from European clubs that failed to play collectively at a World Cup. Typically, he says, it’s not the most talented individuals on their own who produce results, but talented players who are humbly integrated into the entire team—hence the metaphor he often uses: it’s no use having only people who carry the piano or only people who play the piano. He also likes to compare leadership to conducting an orchestra, in which the conductor does not play any instrument but knows exactly what to draw out of each musician so that the sum becomes a complete piece of music. In the locker room, he also learned that instructions given bluntly—even if harsh—don’t offend anyone, as long as they’re about what was agreed upon, and not about the person—a principle that has perhaps led to the most central pillar of his career: the credibility of someone who follows through on what they say, even when it comes at a high cost.

It is this very credibility that, in Wilson’s view, explains one of the greatest challenges in people management: employee turnover. It was by observing the typical pattern in the pharmaceutical industry—product managers who switch companies with every cycle—that he reached a conclusion he still reiterates today in his mentoring sessions: people don’t change jobs; they change bosses. At the companies he led, he lost very few employees, and many followed him from one company to another, which reinforced his conviction that retention begins during an employee’s first week at the company, when they don’t yet know anyone or the internal policies, and a poorly executed onboarding experience is enough to trigger the first resignation request. This is also why he is skeptical about remote work: without face-to-face contact, he believes, you lose the ability to sense people’s needs and build the credibility that underpins effective leadership.

For Wilson, this presence is what separates engagement from motivation—and only the former lasts. Motivation is fleeting; engagement is built, and it comes from people who feel they are part of something bigger than their own role. When taking over a company, he used to implement a 100-day plan, in which he first assessed people, policies, and processes; then customer relationships; and only then the numbers—listening more than making changes. He would meet quarterly, one-on-one, with dozens of employees at all levels of the hierarchy—from the cleaning lady to the director—to understand what he calls “the grapevine,” and he sent every new employee a signed welcome letter with a straightforward message: to stay with the company, only two things were needed—to know and practice the values, and to be happy. When it comes to feedback, he’s just as direct: when done well and consistently, it’s a tool for keeping an employee on the job, not for firing them, which is why he argues that a well-handled termination shouldn’t take more than a minute—because everything has already been said beforehand, based on facts, not guesswork.

It is this same logic of calculated risk that guides Wilson’s perspective on a recurring theme in his lectures today: the strategic use of artificial intelligence within companies. He notes that most large corporations have already adopted AI tools, but almost always in an operational capacity—requesting minutes, a summary, or a plan—without generating any real strategic gain. For him, the difference becomes apparent when leadership takes on the role of steering this use: demanding adoption, identifying those who aren’t using it, and, above all, having the courage to implement a recommendation from the tool even when it deviates from market norms. Without this, each department within the company—marketing, HR, finance—ends up using the technology in isolation, like modules that don’t communicate with one another. It’s the same conviction he’s applied his entire life, adapted to the current moment: anything that can be bought isn’t a sustainable competitive advantage, because it only works until a competitor buys the same thing. The real difference lies in how the tool is used—and that decision, he emphasizes, always rests with leadership, never with the technology itself.

When asked, Wilson also applies all this experience gained over decades in large corporations to the other extreme: the small business owner—a reality for a large portion of the BNI audience. In his view, microentrepreneurs typically possess two qualities in abundance that are rare in large corporations—the courage to take risks and a willingness to embrace the new— but they often lack a mindset focused on control and analysis, which leads many to mix personal and business finances, to be unaware of their actual profits, and, ultimately, to contribute to the statistics of companies in bankruptcy proceedings. In his view, the challenge for small business owners is not a lack of courage—they already have that in spades—but learning to look at their own business with the same discipline toward numbers and processes that he came to value after decades in large corporations.

Today, Wilson Borges is dedicated to sharing decades of learning through lectures, mentoring, and the development of new leaders, including through a recently launched digital twin (www.wilsonborges.com). An agent-based AI that replicates his values, principles, management model, and leadership concepts, available 24/7. Looking back, he sums up the legacy he’d like to leave in two words—credibility and courage—and doesn’t attribute any of it to genius. He prefers to say that there is nothing esoteric about his view of leadership: it’s a matter of listening, training, repeating, taking risks, having the right attitude, and respecting people. He sums up his philosophy in a simple phrase, which is also his greatest challenge: doing the obvious well, consistently.