It was 30 years ago the brash Sean Cummins knocked on every agency door in Sydney to land a gig as a copywriter and was perpetually rejected. Now, after selling his last agency for $30 million, he’s back with a thriving new shop, a fancied team and a daredevil plan to launch in New York. He talks to Paul McIntyre about why the industry loves to knock.
“Don’t hold back,” were Sean Cummins’ final words as he darted off for a flight in a black hire car last Friday. He had just finished a confronting three-hour interview and photo shoot.
Very few people in adland polarise like the boy from Yass. Compliments like smug, ego freak, brash, self-opinionated and a tonne of others flow when conversation turns to the 30-year creative veteran.
Indeed, when CumminsRoss was announced last week as the AdNews Agency of the Year at a sell-out awards event, the reaction was crisply on-brief.
“Where’s the work?” said some with genuine disbelief. “Too early,” said another. “He’s put in a great team but...” And this one, which perhaps encapsulates the public persona of the copywriter-strategist and serial indie: “He’s a fucking narcissist.”
Such tension has orbited Cummins for his entire career – as the youngest creative director at George Patterson in the 1980s, which went horribly wrong, to another short stint at Young & Rubicam with a similar outcome. “I stuffed that up in nine months,” Cummins says of the George Patterson gig. “Y&R didn’t work out so well either. I just found myself unable to deal in that sort of corporate environment.”
No question Sean Cummins is an enigma. Bold and outspoken but equally vulnerable. And as he gets older (and richer), Cummins is more open about it.
The critics have a point about CumminsRoss’ work in 2013 – there was nothing exceptional which stormed the Australian or global awards shows, although we know he’s capable of it. ‘Best Job in the World’ and the Jacob’s Creek ‘Open Up’ series with Andre Agassi have been prominent on the global stage in recent years. But talk to Chrysler Jeep and a bunch of other clients and the effectiveness proof points are there in bold.
What the advertising purists perhaps miss is that CumminsRoss is just three years old. In that time it’s grown to be a touch shy of the size of those clever cats at The Monkeys – now eight years old – and has outpaced the much bigger and respected rival in growth terms of Clemenger Melbourne. Yes, historically it’s easier to grow off a smaller base but argument can flip each way.
“We’ve calibrated ourselves against Clemenger from day one,” Cummins says. “You know the old saying, ‘If you’re going to build a theme park, build it next to Disneyand.’ We’ve seen them as the benchmark.”
That’s the soft side of Sean Cummins but here comes the public, competitive jab. “It’s really important that if you feel that you cannot beat them, then I don’t know why you’re using them as a kind of measuring stick,” he says. “You’ve got to feel like on the day you can beat them and we are.”
The other Brownie points aligning with CumminsRoss this year is that it continues to prosper as an independent in frightfully tight conditions and against a backdrop of size and scale serving as security blanket for marketing teams. CumminsRoss is also obsessed with rejoining media and creative under one roof – a move as contrarian as anything right now.
Finally, where much of the top talent in media and Cummins on Cumminscreative agencies privately dream of doing their own thing, they eventually baulk. Cummins, though, has pushed on for his second innings.
But let’s get to the real juice: Sean Cummins on Sean Cummins the narcissist.
“I think that may be a fair comment,” he says with initial unease – Cummins was not expecting an early punch. “It’s funny. I think about why I could possibly not be liked and I think it can come down to as something as stupid and visceral as the PR shot. I look like a fucking smug bastard. I play up to it. But ask the question: have they ever met me? Most who say that say no. People look at me and say, ‘Yes, he’s that type of guy.’ There might be a certain vanity. You said Zoolander-esque. People are playing to a cliché and maybe I fit people’s stereotypes and clichés. I can’t do anything about how I look or how I am. I hope I’m as textured as anybody when it comes to my approach. But I also won’t shy off having an opinion.” That is for sure.
When asked about his formative years in advertising, Cummins is crystal clear on what shaped him. In 1984, when Australian ad agency creative departments were run by London creative types – not too much has changed – Cummins had a horrible time landing a gig as a copywriter. He hasn’t forgotten.
“I could not get a job in Sydney,” he says. “Just flat out couldn’t get a job. I tramped around North Sydney and Sydney proper and every creative director I met was a Pom. They would say, ‘Your book is quite nice but we only hire writers out of London.’ So I developed this real competitiveness.
“If you’re independent you have a responsibility and you’re allowed to say things maybe others can’t. I’ve got that privilege but that’s because I’ve earned the perfect job. I’ve paid my way. I’ve done it myself. I’ve not relied on anyone else. The things that other industry leaders say to me would shock a lot of people but you’ll never hear them say it in public. A lot of people are constrained in what they can say.”
Whether he can resist the temptation or not, Cummins says he wants to pull back and let his new team sing, at least in Australia. Hence the move to New York in coming months is in his strategic sweet spot.
“The next stage of CumminsRoss was to quickly allow me to move away and let the team do it in a way I think they can really do it,” says Cummins, who retains a 51% share in the agency with the rest split between agency leaders. The same goes for New York – Cummins wants Americans owning a stake.
“I think people are realising there is a weariness for me to be the face of the place,” he says. “I wanted to make sure the agency was never going to be the cult of Sean, which a lot of people think it is. I hope in some respects this is one of the last articles ever written about me. Because if you think I’m not connected to that kind of scrutiny and don’t get a little bit tired and worn down, you’re crazy. I don’t love this. I don’t like the attention. I’m very sensitive. I’m very insecure. All I am trying to do is good work for my clients. So having these stars like Adam Ferrier, Kirsty Muddle, Chris Jeffares, Jim Ingram and Ben Couzens allows me to be the coach and not the player.”
This article first appeared in the 7 March 2014 edition of AdNews.
Have something to say on this? Share your views in the comments section below. Or if you have a news story or tip-off, drop us a line at adnews@yaffa.com.au
Sign up to the AdNews newsletter, like us on Facebook or follow us on Twitter for breaking stories and campaigns throughout the day.