Insurance money in hand, he could have relocated to cheaper facilities overseas like his competitors. He could have pocketed millions and retired comfortably. 

Instead, he chose the path financial analysts deemed “business suicide.” 

Feuerstein continued paying all 3,000 employees their full salaries and benefits while rebuilding on the same site — an unprecedented move that cost him millions with no immediate return. 

“I’m not throwing 3,000 people out of work two weeks before Christmas,” he declared. 

When asked why, his answer was disarmingly simple: “It was the right thing to do.” 

What Wall Street labeled financial lunacy proved to be strategic brilliance. 

His employees — feeling valued rather than disposable — repaid his loyalty with extraordinary commitment. Productivity soared upon reopening, and quality reached new heights as workers brought unprecedented focus and dedication. 

Malden Mills’ Polartec fleece became an industry standard, with the company’s products sought after by top outdoor brands worldwide. 

This wasn’t just moral leadership — it was strategic genius. 

Some people use this story to point out how a company should feel like a family. 

I don’t. 

A family is where you can get drunk and pass out on the couch and be forgiven. 

You do that at work…you’re gone. 

But let’s unpack what “the right thing to do” really means in business. Feuerstein’s decision wasn’t made in a vacuum. Malden Mills could act boldly because it had run a profitable business and built a reserve. That reserve gave Feuerstein the ability to make a choice that looked like financial suicide but was actually rooted in long-term thinking. 

If you don’t have the money, you can’t do what you think is the right thing. The headline-grabbing move — the one that earns admiration — starts years earlier with disciplined business practices: charging appropriately, protecting margins, and planning for the unexpected. Running a sound business is the right thing to do. That’s what allows you to act decisively when a crisis strikes. 

At Nexstar, we’ve faced similar issues. Recently, we made a strategic decision to remove a portion of our membership — a move that represented a portion of our revenue. Some assumed we’d need to tap into reserves. We didn’t. Why? Because the decision was thoughtful and planned. We had operators working to replace revenue before the separation occurred. That’s what long-term thinking looks like. 

Every decision you make falls into one of two categories: short-term or long-term. Neither is wrong. Some businesses operate on quarterly results, and that’s their model. Others, like Malden Mills, prioritize values and community impact because they plan to be here for decades. That clarity shapes choices that outsiders might call reckless — but for leaders with a long horizon, those choices are crystal clear. 

So, where does your business focus? Are you just starting out? Preparing for succession? Your stage of maturity determines whether your horizon shortens or lengthens. Being hyper-clear about that helps you make decisions others might label suicidal, but that, in reality, are strategic. 

Was Feuerstein thinking about loyalty when he made his decision? Probably not. Loyalty was the unintended benefit. He wasn’t romanticizing relationships; he was building the kind of business he wanted to lead, with the kind of people he wanted on his team. Those who shared his vision stayed. Those who didn’t move on. And what he got in return was loyalty beyond expectation — an outcome that surprised even him. 

His story reminds us that in an era of disposable relationships, creating genuine loyalty remains the ultimate competitive advantage. But loyalty doesn’t start with grand gestures. It starts with disciplined, long-term decisions that make those gestures possible. 

So ask yourself: Are you planning for the next quarter — or the next generation? Because the answer will shape whether your business can do “the right thing” when it matters most.