Eugene Cheong’s manifesto against creative cowardice

At a time when artificial intelligence promises instant answers, automated creativity, and effortless content generation, Eugene Cheong has delivered a powerful reminder that great creative work still demands conviction, discipline, and courage.

The legendary copywriter, former Chief Creative Officer of DDB Asia and of Ogilvy APAC, and one of the most awarded writers in advertising has released a book unlike any other. Written entirely by hand, Cowards Don’t Go to Heaven: The Scribblings of a Lost Creative Soul Who Found Paradise is a 13,000-word manifesto that challenges creatives to defend originality, integrity, and craft in an industry increasingly tempted by shortcuts.

^{Eugene Chong}

Launched at D&AD headquarters in Shoredich in London on June 9, Cowards Don’t Go to Heaven: The Scribblings of a Lost Creative Soul Who Found Paradise is part manifesto, part memoir, part creative survival guide. Raw, irreverent, and unapologetically profane, the book is a rallying cry for creative courage at a time when many in the industry are questioning what originality, craft, and integrity mean in the era of AI.

The evening gathered creatives, friends, and admirers of Cheong’s work for a conversation with the author, a live illustration session by artist Simon Spilsbury, and a book signing.

_{adobo Magazine Founder, President, and Editor-in-Chief with Eugene Chong}

Standing before a packed room, Cheong began by expressing his gratitude to D&AD, an organization that has been intertwined with his career for decades.

“Thank you D&AD, for making this room happen tonight,” he said. “I’ve been coming here for most of my career, usually as a judge, and once as a jury president. Tonight is different. Tonight, I’m not here as a judge or a jury president. I’m here as an author, which sounds faintly ridiculous when I say it out loud.”

For someone whose words have shaped campaigns, brands, and creative cultures across Asia, becoming an author might seem like a natural progression. Yet Cheong described the journey as another mountain to climb.

^{Eugene Chong and BBDO Guerrero Creative Chairman David Guerrero}

“I was included in the D&AD Copy Book quite early in my career,” he reflected. “I’ve written taglines, scripts, manifestos, short copy, long copy. But a 13,000-word handwritten book in charcoal and Indian ink? That’s a whole different range of mountains altogether.”

The project, he admitted, happened largely by accident. As with many turning points in his career, the spark came from a conversation. David Tang, Chairman of DDB Asia, had invited Cheong to speak to agency staff about the ten most important lessons he had learned during his career as a creative and creative director. The talk never materialized, but the idea stayed with him. A subsequent invitation to speak at a conference in Croatia in 2024 resurrected the concept. The presentation evolved into a talk titled Ten Things I’ve Learned from Making 10,000 Ads and Winning 1,000 Awards. The problem, Cheong explained, was that the list refused to stay at ten. “Ten things very quickly metastasized into twenty things and thirty things and forty things,” he recalled. “Eventually it settled somewhere between fifty and sixty things.” That was the moment he realized he was no longer writing a speech. “I looked at it and thought, I’ve got the raw materials for a book.”

The original vision was ambitious. Cheong wanted to collaborate with renowned Singaporean designer Theseus Chan, whose experimental approach to design and publishing has earned international acclaim.

“It was Theseus’ infectious enthusiasm that pushed me off the cliff,” said Cheong. “He told me, ‘Write the whole book by hand.’” His initial reaction was disbelief.

“I said, ‘Are you kidding me? It’s at least 12,000 words.’” Chan was undeterred.

“He said, ‘I am not afraid.’” What followed was an 18-month process of refining the manuscript before the realities of busy schedules intervened. Chan became unavailable to complete the project, and another designer, Simon Spilsbury, stepped in to bring the book to life visually. The handwriting, however, remained Cheong’s responsibility. The task became a test of endurance as much as creativity.

“I wrote on cheap photocopy paper,” he told the audience. “I wrote every single day from dawn to dusk for four months. I wrote drinking gallons of coffee. I wrote every single one of those hand-breaking 13,000 words.”

_{Pablo London Creative Director Katrina Encanto with Eugene Chong}

The room laughed, but there was admiration in the response. In an industry increasingly obsessed with efficiency, the notion of spending months physically writing every word felt almost radical.

The medium itself became part of the message.

The handwritten pages embody the central argument of the book: that meaningful creative work requires effort, commitment, and courage. There are no shortcuts to originality. It is indeed “A Fat Red Book for Creative Revolutionaries”.

The title itself points directly to that belief.

When an audience member later asked why courage became the book’s opening chapter, Cheong offered an answer rooted in philosophy. “There are eight virtues,” he explained. “I think C.S. Lewis said that courage is every virtue at its testing point.” Without courage, he argued, all other virtues eventually collapse under pressure.

“Without courage, all the other virtues don’t stand up. You can’t be consistent. You can’t do so many things.”

It is a fitting foundation for a book whose central target is creative cowardice — the compromises, shortcuts, and fear-driven decisions that often dilute great ideas before they ever see the light of day.

Throughout the evening, Cheong returned repeatedly to the notion that creativity is less about talent and more about conviction.

That theme surfaced again when another audience member asked how he deals with creative block. Rather than offering a structured methodology, Cheong shared an insight: “What cures a creative block?” he said. “As soon as I climb up the stairs to my bedroom, the brain knows it’s relaxing. Then an idea just pops.” The answer, he suggested, lies in deceiving the mind into letting go. “I think you’ve got to trick your mind,” he said. “Sometimes you drink some wine. Just treat your mind to think that you’re on holiday.” Then came the punchline, “Just be on permanent holiday.”

The audience laughed again, but beneath the humor was a serious observation. Creativity rarely emerges from force. It often arrives when pressure subsides and curiosity is allowed room to breathe.

The conversation also revealed the collaborative spirit behind the project.

Simon Spilsbury, who eventually took over the design of the book, described the process as an example of “creative collision.” “This whole book was a really good example of that creative collision,” he said. “Eugene spent seven years writing a book. We repurposed some illustrations.” Their exchange highlighted a recurring theme in Cheong’s career: trust. He spoke about empowering younger creatives by giving them responsibilities beyond what they believe they are capable of handling. More often than not, he said, they rise to the challenge.

The philosophy mirrors the leadership style that has influenced generations of creatives across Asia. Rather than controlling every detail, Cheong advocates creating conditions where people can discover strengths they didn’t know they possessed.

As the evening drew to a close, the significance of the book became increasingly clear.Cowards Don’t Go to Heaven is not simply another creative handbook. It is a personal declaration from one of advertising’s most respected voices.

David Droga, Vice Chair at Accenture reviews – “A raw, unfiltered manifesto for creative rebellion. A smack in the face of mediocrity. A survival guide for anyone who gives a damn about creativity.”

A humorous film promoting the book by ad agency GIGIL and production houses Arcade Film Factory,  was screened at the book launch:

Eugene Cheong’s decision to spend four months handwriting 13,000 words feels intentionally defiant. The book argues that creativity remains fundamentally human — messy, imperfect, laborious, and deeply personal. Its pages are filled not only with lessons from a career that spans thousands of campaigns and countless awards but also with reminders that courage remains the defining quality of great creative work.

Perhaps that is why the launch felt less like a book promotion and more like a call to arms. He offered a different proposition: that the future belongs not to the fastest creators, but to the bravest ones.

And if the packed room at D&AD was any indication, there are still plenty of people willing to listen.

Convinced of its value, I purchased 30 copies of this magnificent book to place in the hands of select marketers in Manila, hoping it will spark inspiration and convert them into creative revolutionaries.

Click here to order a copy of the book.

The post Eugene Cheong’s manifesto against creative cowardice appeared first on adobo Magazine Online.