Matt Eastwood: The Way I See It

‘Make a plan, take action’: this is the simple, yet effective, mantra of a man who knows a bit about goal orientation.

Worldwide CCO of JWT, Matt Eastwood has a CV that dazzles with such titles as founding partner of M&C Saatchi in Australia and CCO of DDB New York. Since joining JWT in 2014, he’s nudged the network up Cannes’ creativity ratings with a haul last year of 80 Lions, a record for the agency. Yet, this highly organised plan-maker also has an easygoing, Aussie cool. He confounds Myers-Briggs tests with his mix of creativity and discipline. Once dubbed ‘the unicorn’ of adland, there is something magical about Matt...

I was born in Perth, Western Australia, and had a great childhood. We moved around a lot when I was younger – 11 towns in 11 years. It was crazy, but also an amazing experience to have as a kid. I have two brothers and a sister and we all became close as we had to rely on each other for companionship.

My brothers and sisters had a nickname for me – Diplo, which was short for Diplo-Matt. I guess because I was always the one who would rarely get in trouble. I was a good talker.

I knew I wanted to be in advertising from age 13. It sounds unbelievable, but I was inspired by the character of Darrin in [60s US sitcom] Bewitched. I saw him constantly coming up with crazy ideas and thought that would be a great job.

My parents didn’t have artistic careers – my mother was a librarian and my father was an accountant – but they encouraged me to be creative. Having said that, my father was always keen on me joining his accountancy practice. Ironically, my two best subjects at school were art and accounting. They are diametrically opposed skills, but actually both have served me well during my career. You don’t really need to understand a balance sheet when you’re a copywriter, but it certainly helps once you start running an agency.

My first job as a copywriter was at a small agency in Perth called The Partnership. I studied graphic design and after graduating I spent the summer looking for a job as an art director. After three or four months I’d had no luck – plenty of, “I love your work, but we’re just not looking for anyone.” One day I saw an ad for The Partnership who were looking for a senior copywriter. I was neither senior, nor a copywriter, but I thought, “What the hell, go for it.” Somehow, I convinced the creative director to hire me.

My first boss, Gordon Dawson, really helped me understand what it takes to be a proper writer. In my first week on the job he asked me if I’d read Catch-22, Slaughterhouse 5, Brave New World and about a dozen other novels. Of course, I’d read none of them. So he bought me a stack of paperbacks and told me to start reading. There’s no doubt that he made me better. And it’s a lesson that has stuck with me.

In the early part of my career I think I was pretty easy to work with. I was very ambitious to make a name for myself, so I worked hard. And I worked with the same art director for almost nine years, so we developed a really easy creative process. Although I’m a morning person and he’s an evening person – that created a few challenges.

If I wasn’t in advertising I’d be an interior designer or an architect. It’s my biggest passion outside of advertising. I’ve actually designed a number of houses, three of which have been featured in magazines. I even used to write a blog about interior design and architecture.

Bob Isherwood was a mentor when he was in Sydney as global CCO at Saatchi, but I don’t think he knew he was mentoring me at the time. I always paid close attention to what he did and how he behaved. Bob really lived the Saatchi philosophy: “Nothing is impossible.” He inspired greatness, then did whatever he could to bring that greatness to life. This can be a tough industry. Bob taught me the importance of passion.

Keith Reinhard, chairman emeritus at DDB, has become a lifelong mentor. Keith once said, “Your job is not to create great advertising, it’s to cause it.” That’s become a mantra for me. To create an environment where great advertising can happen. Maurice Saatchi taught me that a few well chosen words of encouragement can make anyone walk a few inches taller.

The piece of work that affected me most as a young creative was Apple’s Think Different and I think it touched a nerve in many creative people. We all want to change the world. More recently, I love REI’s #OptOutside. I’m always searching for work that not only lifts creativity to a higher level, but also lifts society to a higher level. #OptOutside wasn’t just a campaign; it was a movement. And it perfectly amplified REI’s belief that a life outside is a life well lived. I appreciate the audacity, the activism and the challenge it must have been simply to make it happen. It’s a brilliant example of a brand aligning its purpose with its marketing and demonstrating that companies can grow through doing good.

I’ll always love the #FirstWorldProblems campaign we did for Water is Life. It moved people into understanding the disparity between our trivial problems and those in countries with concerns for more basic human needs. It was interesting, the film sparked debate over whether or not we understood the #FirstWorldProblems hashtag.

Of course we understood the original intended irony and even Urban Dictionary describes first-world problems as “Problems from living in a wealthy, industrialised nation that third worlders would probably roll their eyes at.” And the Haitian people featured in the ad were definitely in on the joke and understood the nature of the inconsequential problems that people across the world were putting out over social media.

The #FirstWorldProblems tweets were funny to them and elicited laughs as we asked them to read out their lines, because the ‘problems’ were so mundane. Our belief was that although the #FirstWorldProblems hashtag was created as a self-mocking mechanism for the privileged, these tweets about ‘problems’ also showcased a lack of sensitivity about serious concerns and the ways that social media users can help improve real problems. Most of all, it made me happy to produce a campaign that increased donations by over 500 per cent and made a real difference in people’s lives.

Weirdly, I think I’m an exact balance of extrovert and introvert. When you look at my Myers-Briggs chart, I’m exactly equal in all four quadrants. I’m creative, but I’m organised. I’m a balance of both thinking and feeling. I’m not even sure how that’s possible.

I’ve always been organised. But that’s how I best process tasks and information, in an ordered and sequential way. I’m all about lists.

The things I say most often are “Make a plan” and “Take action.” It’s the key to achieving your goals. It frustrates me when young creatives say, “I want to win more awards, but I don’t get the opportunity to do that type of work.” That kind of thinking is useless. If you want to win awards, make a plan. What are you going to do to enable that to happen? Work an extra three hours every Thursday night on proactive briefs? Team up with a partner who has won awards in the past? If you make a plan, and take action towards that plan, then the chances of it happening are hugely increased.

I’m a huge early adopter. I had the first iPhone, the first iPad, the first Apple Watch. I’m constantly looking for ways that technology can simplify and improve my life. Because I travel so much, I love technology that enables me to have access to everything, everywhere. But the technology has to be beautifully designed, which is probably why I’m such an Apple fan-boy. Steve Jobs once said, “The best technology is technology that disappears.” When something slips seamlessly into your life and disappears into the background, that’s when it can make a difference.

I’m a creature of habit. I don’t want to spend time on small decisions like what to eat for lunch or what clothes to wear. It distracts from the bigger, more creative decisions. That’s where I want to focus.

I have rituals that are embedded into my daily routine. I try to end each day having dealt with all my emails. It means being quite disciplined – answer it, file it or delete it. I’ve also become a creature of habit when I travel and have got it down to a fine art. My most common trip is New York to London and I know exactly what to pack, prefer not to check luggage, and I even try to sit in the same seat each time. I guess I discover what works and I stick to it.

When I was 26 I enrolled in a three-day presentation skills workshop and, without being overly dramatic, I think it changed my life. That was when I understood the importance of commanding a room, and how to do it effectively. Since then, I’ve never been afraid of public speaking, never been afraid of standing up in front of the entire agency, never been afraid of presenting to even the most senior client. I’ve had the opportunity to present to everyone from the prime minister of Australia to the former vice president of the United States. For three years, in Australia, I was even on the panel of a weekly TV show about advertising called The Gruen Transfer, which was taped in front of a live studio audience. I loved it.

A key part of the job is that you have to believe in what you are selling. I’ve always felt that if you can’t convince yourself, then you can’t convince someone else. With the New York Lottery campaign ‘Yeah, That Kind of Rich’ and Water is Life’s #FirstWorldProblems I loved the balance of being able to create two campaigns with such opposing points of view. The important thing is that both campaigns were built on genuine human insights. I think that’s what makes each powerful in their own way.

Bill Bernbach once said, “All of us who professionally use the mass media are the shapers of society. We can vulgarise that society. We can brutalise it. Or we can help lift it to a higher level.” I think that’s a responsibility and an opportunity for all creatives.

The most important thing for me is to work with nice clients. Life’s too short to work with bad people. Only once have I told a client that the agency could no longer work with them because of the way they behaved. That’s a really tough decision to make so it’s very much a last resort. But, ultimately, a bad client can destroy the culture of the agency. I’m fairly open and honest (I think it’s in my Aussie nature) so if there are issues, I’d rather confront a client and try to resolve how to work better together.

I like the Aussie brand of cheeky and irreverent humour, but I’ve learned to appreciate other types of humour, too. London has a dryer sense of humour and the US is more slapstick. But I’ve also learned to trust my gut. When I first moved to New York, I remember looking at some scripts and not finding them funny, but the creatives assured me “This is really funny in the US.” Nope, it’s not. Sometimes not funny, is not funny everywhere.

I’ve lived in New York for 11 years and my father thinks I talk with an American accent. I guess sometimes I do. If you want to be understood in New York sometimes it’s easier to say “toona” instead of “chewna”. Most importantly, living in New York reminds me to take advantage of the culture that surrounds me. In many ways, I’ll always see New York with a foreigner’s eyes, which is a good thing. I’ll never take for granted the fact that I have access to the Guggenheim, or Broadway, or Madison Square Garden. New York has probably heightened my ambition, too. Everyone comes to New York with a dream: “If I can make it here, I can make it anywhere.” It’s incredibly invigorating to be surrounded by such passionate people.

It’s the small things that I miss about Australia. Scrambled eggs at Bill’s in Surrey Hills, Bondi Beach in the summer, barbecuing in the backyard, being able to drive to and from work. And, of course, I miss my family. But New York is definitely ‘home’ now.

I think there is less ageism in the ad industry in the USA than in Australia. At DDB New York, I had four creatives in their early 60s working in the creative department. And a similar number when I was running Y&R New York. The knowledge and experience that an older person can offer is impossible to get from a 23 year old. Plus, I think clients genuinely appreciate that kind of experience.

I’m comfortable with getting older. I just wish my body could live up to the demands I put on it. My travel schedule is tough, and my body doesn’t recover as quickly as it used to. The older you get, the better you have to treat yourself. You can’t just eat whatever you want. You have to find time to exercise, which is a battle for me. Also, I wish my glasses didn’t have to get stronger every year.

As a leader of creatives, I don’t like to compete with the team by bringing my ideas to the table, but if I have an idea I find a way to make it happen. I just need to make it feel like the team’s idea. But what excites me most is seeing people who work for me be successful. It’s so fulfilling to see young creatives win their first award and knowing that I helped them get there. It’s better than the feeling of personal achievement.

One thing that I’m really passionate about is training for creative people. In most of the agencies there’s an abundance of training for account management but very little for creatives. So I started the Future Leaders programme, which is a three-day workshop that deals with everything from leadership skills and performance management to finance and business strategy. Every year, I also take a contingent to the Berlin School of Creative Leadership. Their philosophy of ‘a creative CEO in every creative company’ is something I really believe in.

When I was described as a ‘unicorn’ in the communications industry I think that was because I was so young (I was only 32), had the ability to command a big agency creative department and deal with clients. Personally, I’ve never felt like a unicorn, but I guess sometimes it’s quite hard to see and acknowledge your own strengths.

When I started in the advertising industry in the 1990s it was pretty much all about print and TV. Now advertising covers an enormous range of ideas. One day we can be developing a new product like Touchable Ink [a product that allows braille to be printed more easily] and the next day we’ll be working on a scripted TV series. It really is the best time to be working in the industry.

When I arrived at J. Walter Thompson, I set my sights on Cannes. To be clear: I don’t believe in working for awards, but awards are important. Cannes, for me, was not necessarily an end goal but something that could potentially build on itself. If I could get our agency’s standing at Cannes to rise, I knew this tide would then encourage creativity all over the globe. It’s a virtuous circle. Creativity begets awards which, in turn, begets creativity. So I knew it could, essentially, act as an engine turning itself over. Also, awards are measurable.

At my first global network meeting at JWT I needed to convince the network why upping our creativity was so important. I presented a plan that included evidence from The Gunn Report that our creative reputation was slipping. Perhaps the biggest challenge was convincing the network that profit couldn’t be our only goal. It helped that our CEO was 100 per cent on board. Also, Martin Sorrell, the CEO of WPP was totally supportive. At our annual performance review Martin gave us only two goals: growth and creativity. It’s important to have that kind of focus coming from the very top.

I always say two things to people who want to work as a creative: work hard and be nice to people. You don’t have to be the most talented person in the world to be successful. Sure, you need talent, but passion is far more important. Passion trumps talent.

The best day in my career came after I was appointed ECD of M&C Saatchi in London, when I was at dinner with the company’s founders and partners. Maurice Saatchi raised his glass and proposed a toast to my success. At that moment, I really had to pinch myself. Maurice freakin’ Saatchi was proposing a toast in my honour!

My worst moment was after about three years in the industry when I was at Ogilvy in Perth. I was working on great accounts, had a great partner and was doing great work, but despite this, one afternoon I was called into the managing director’s office and let go. I was extremely upset and couldn’t understand why I’d been fired. It turned out that the Perth agency was going into bankruptcy. Fairly soon, everyone was let go, but it still sticks with me as a devastating moment.

Success for the brand is more important than artistic merit. But if we do our job right, we can achieve both.

If I could change one thing about myself it would be my memory. I have the worst short-term memory and it stops me from remembering names, and even faces, which can be extremely awkward in my role.

I travel probably 60-70 per cent of the time so when I get a chance to be home I try to embrace it. We have a lake house in upstate New York. It’s my favourite place in the world. And my husband makes the world’s best Hendrick’s dirty martini with three olives, which definitely helps me relax.

The closest I’ve ever been to death was a hit-and-run accident in Boston when a lady who was texting and driving swerved and hit me. Luckily, I was with a colleague who called 911. At first, he thought I was dead. I was unconscious with a pool of blood coming from my head. In the end, I had a broken wrist, some nasty lacerations and concussion.

Defeatism makes me angry. I come from the ‘never give up’ school. I guess that’s why I talk so much about passion.

Do I Google myself? Guilty. I’d like to think I don’t care what people think about me, but I do. I don’t think I’m thick-skinned enough to ever get over reading negative comments about myself.

At the end of the day, the most important thing is relationships – with my husband, with my family, with my friends. They are the people who are there to celebrate the good times and help get you through the bad times.