Neil French has died at 81, passing away on November 20 in Mallorca, Spain. Revered and often feared as the “godfather of advertising,” French was one of Asia’s most provocative and defining creative forces. A Clio Lifetime Achievement Award winner, he leaves behind a body of work and a way of thinking that altered the region’s creative DNA.
Born in Birmingham, French was expelled from school at 16 and went on to live several lifetimes before advertising found him at 47. Before becoming what The Guardian in 2005 dubbed “the greatest copywriter who ever lived,” he ran through an extraordinary résumé: pornographer, matador, and manager of Judas Priest, which, for the uninitiated, was a camp heavy-metal band.
In 1982, he arrived in Singapore for a freelance stint at Ogilvy & Mather, where he met Michael Ball and quickly built his reputation as an uncompromising copywriting maverick. From there, he became a force the industry couldn’t ignore.
Through the 80s and 90s, French shaped the creative standards of Batey Ads and The Ball Partnership and produced work that defined the era. Among his best-known campaigns: the Chivas Regal ad with an unlabelled bottle and the perfectly calibrated barb, “If you don’t recognise it, you’re probably not ready for it.” His Kaminomoto spot, where a billiard ball sprouts a full head of hair, was a masterclass in clarity, wit and visual persuasion.
In 1995, French returned to Ogilvy as regional creative director and, within three years, was elevated to worldwide creative director. He later took on the top creative role across WPP, overseeing Ogilvy, JWT and Rubicam.

French’s legacy was not without controversy. In 2005, he resigned from WPP after global backlash over comments reported by The Globe and Mail, in which he was quoted as saying, “Women don’t make it to the top because they don’t deserve to. They’re crap.”
French denied delivering the remark and said he referred to the all-consuming demands of creative leadership rather than gender. But the controversy detonated a global conversation about sexism in advertising, sharpened by voices like Ogilvy’s co-CCO Nancy Vonk, who later revisited the episode in her 2016 Campaign op-ed, 'Sexist bosses: What a difference a decade doesn’t make.'
Vonk wrote bluntly that “gender bias is alive and well, and hurting women,” and stressed that real progress requires senior leaders who confront bias openly rather than look the other way. Her argument, that silence enables discrimination, has since become a defining reference point for the industry.
French’s resignation came with a laconic sign-off that captured the candour he was both admired and criticised for. Suggesting he’d suffered “death by blog,” he added simply, “I’m not a corporate man. It’s just not me.”
After leaving WPP, French retired to Majorca, co-founding The World Press Awards with LIA owner Barbara Levy to champion print craft with the same conviction that had defined his career. His accolades were extensive: induction into the Award Hall of Fame, a New York Festivals Lifetime Achievement Award in 2009, and recognition as a Lotus Legend at Adfest in 2015, among others.
Across the industry, tributes are pouring in from protégés and peers who remember French as a visionary who pushed Asia’s creative work onto the world stage, demanded better thinking from everyone around him, and never apologised for who he was—a maverick to the end.
Below are some reflections.
Stephen Vogel
Chief creative officer, Ogilvy EMEA
Yesterday, Neil French passed away.
When I joined Ogilvy in 1997, he was the global CCO. It was he who introduced the Cadre, a table league of creative excellence that brought all of us into a friendly creative competition. And it was he who initiated the Ogilvy hothouses, bringing the best global creative teams together to work on a brief in Touffou, David Ogilvy's castle in France. The first client was Dove.
From early on, he was a mentor and friend to me. I remember sending him a long copy ad that I had written. He replied, "Steph, may I mention that your English is a little bit less than perfect? Can I have a try?" And he completely rewrote it. In printable handwriting. He, the global CCO, and I, the midlevel copywriter.
Ogilvy will remember him as a strong creative leader who was driving strong and long-lasting creative impact, first in Asia, then worldwide. The advertising world will remember him as a genius of language, one of the best copywriters ever. My kids will remember him as the warmhearted, witty, funny gentleman who kept entertaining them anytime. I will remember him as a friend.
Rest in peace, Neil.
David Guerrero
Creative chairman, BBDO Guerrero
Neil was not a safe choice as a boss. But he was the best one I could have had at the time. The three years from 1995-98 I spent working with him taught me determination, courage, and a love for craft. He was a cranky, eccentric, and brilliant —capable of striking fear into account and creative people alike. His support and insistence led many of them to produce their best work, including me. At the same time, he loved stirring up controversy—and was never willing to back down from a fight. It was this tendency that brought him down in spectacular fashion when he made widely condemned and unapologetic comments about women creatives at a 2005 event in Toronto. This has complicated his legacy. But his work, and the impact of it on a generation of Asian creatives, will live on.
Alonso Arias
Founder, The Non Agency
I met Neil French when I was starting my career at Ogilvy in Mexico, when he was the global CCO. He visited the office to see our work and gave us a few talks. He had a word for everyone; it didn’t matter if you were a junior or the CEO. He was humble, open to seeing your work, listening to you, and always willing to give advice. With every word and every comment, he inspired me to keep going and to keep writing. Such a smart, interesting, raw, unfiltered, cool, fun guy. Rest in peace, Neil, and thank you for those couple of days that made me go, “hell yeah, this is what I want to do the rest of my life."
Jignesh Maniar
Founder, Onads Communications
If there was one person Piyush Pandey looked up to for creative validation, it was Neil. There’s an anecdote I will never forget starring Piyush and Neil.
Years ago, during an Ogilvy creative conference in Jaipur, Neil French was the chief guest. Evenings with French around were absolute riots—drinks, stories, wit, bite, and that trademark Neil French irreverence.
Now, Manoj Shetty (the creative director, part of Ogilvy India during some of its acclaimed work) had a spot-on Neil French imitation. The kind you perform for friends, quietly, in safe corners.
That evening, Piyush Pandey heard it and immediately said, “Chal, Neil ke saamne kar.” (Let’s do it in front of Neil)
Shetty froze.
Who on earth imitates Neil French on his face?
But we all egged him on.
And Piyush, in his classic style, said, “Kuch nahin hoga. Chal.” (All good, it’s nothing. Let’s go)
So the whole group followed Piyush and a horrified Shetty. None of us wanted to miss what might become advertising lore.
We reached Neil, who was chatting with a few folks.
Piyush simply told Neil: “I want you to see yourself.” And he signalled to Shetty.
What followed was two minutes of absolute brilliance—Shetty doing a pitch-perfect French impression, and all of us watching Neil’s face like we were waiting for a live verdict.
When Shetty finished, the crowd went silent for half a second.
Neil French nodded, smirked ever so slightly, and said:
“That sounds a lot like me.”
The group burst into applause.
Shetty exhaled like he’d just survived a near-death experience and blurted out:
“Sorry… they made me do it!”
Neil took a sip of his drink, looked him in the eye and delivered the most French line possible:
“Now I would never say that.”
Vintage. Pure. Neil French.
There are legends. And then there are those who rewrite the rules, break them again, and leave behind stories that outlive decades.
Neil French was, and will always remain, the latter.
Rest in Peace!
Pedro Ferreira
Head of art and culture, VML Lisbon
Shit. I will miss him, his unique sense of humour, his cognac from the 70s, his stories, and his answer when I asked him, “Is this true, Neil?”
“You will never know,” he replied. I'm still processing, just weeks from his beloved friend Piyush Pandey. The world of advertising lost two giants. Now my thoughts go to his son Daniel.
Muhammad Ahmad
Creative director, M&C Saatchi Islamabad
I was never one of those kids taken in by the glamour of advertising. I was just a boy who loved to write and was studying business administration in 2010 when I chanced upon my very first stint in the ad world. An internship. If that internship ignited a spark, Neil French turned it into an out-of-control, raging, roaring forest fire.
What a loss, man. I guess I'm at that age where my heroes are dying and with them dies an idea of what advertising should be. Fearless, boundary-pushing and, seldom, politically correct. Say what you want about the man, but you can't say anything about his skill or his dedication to his craft.
Rest in peace, legend.
Derek Sherman
Group creative director, VML Health
My favourite ad writer, and one of my favourite writers in any genre, of all time. It's wonderful that a designer would be the one to post this. And to replicate the copy in the comments. 'If you can’t get people to read your ad in a newspaper, it’s nobody’s fault but your own." Pretty apropos to all sorts of media today.
Paul Korel
Senior copywriter and founder, Knack Recruiting
A sombre day. Neil French, one of the greatest copywriters ever, has passed. Passing along countless brilliant ads filled with calculated words of wisdom. Not known to him, but I’m sure for many, he was a mentor and an inspiration for his ability to articulate a product and draw a reader in.
Feels like a shot or two of Chivas Regal is what’s most appropriate now.
Much love, Mr French.
Chris Worth
Former head of content, Ogilvy
The great adman Neil French has passed away. Every creative has their story about Frenchie, and some are even true—so here's mine:
In the 90s, I was a young copywriter in Singapore. I'd never met Neil despite his office being just two doors away—after all, I was the geeky kid who wrote ads about servers and software. Not really his type.
Unknown to the agency, I was somewhat more internet-famous - at the time, my 60,000-monthly-view site was in the top few blogs worldwide (!)—and I'd published an essay predicting the downfall of the ad business. It wasn't hugely complimentary of the agency world, and I was ready for consequences.
A day after emailing it to a few people, my phone rang. "Worthypoos? You've got balls the size of grapefruit to write this stuff."
It was Neil, inviting me to present at his Asia Creative Directors' Conference. Oh, er, this week. In Bangkok. Somehow, my essay had reached the desk of WPP head honcho Martin Sorrell, and he'd distributed it to thousands, Neil among them.
The aftermath was a month of global job offers, something close to minor fame, and a decision to go indie a year later. Neil was always up for an email, and we corresponded up to a few years ago.
Goodbye, Neil—a true larger-than-lifer. (Even if you didn't go in the way you once told me you wanted—"an overdose of Viagra".) And thank you.
Some masterpieces from French's portfolio

'Be careful with the Kaminomoto' for Kaminomoto.

"Nobody reads long copy anymore."

'Don't bother reading this ad' for Ibidphoto.

'Flying First Class is all very well' for AirAsia.

'A few encouraging words for the totally incompetent' for Beck's Beer.