By Laura Florence, Chief Creative Officer, Rise & Run
People often ask me: why are Brazilians so creative?
First of all, I agree—we are. And I say that with zero false modesty. Our creativity is born from scarcity. There is a lack of resources, access and opportunity that comes with living in a country where over 62 million people live in poverty or extreme poverty. Adversity is our raw material.
There are many theories linking hardship to creative growth, and Brazilians experience hardship daily. Of course, I’m talking about advertising professionals—a still-privileged group within that reality—but finding new solutions to old problems is in the air we breathe. It’s in our baby bottles, and it’s taught in the corporate survival school, where from day one we learn that unless you do more than what was asked, this industry might not be for you.
But there’s something else you can’t explain through sociology alone. We tend to face pain with joy and enthusiasm. Psychology might call it escapism. I call it survival technique. And it’s what gives our ideas that emotional strength that feels undeniably Brazilian.
When we have a film at the Oscars, it’s not just Fernanda or Walter competing—it’s an entire country rooting for them, capable of crashing the internet with support. At Cannes Lions, it’s the same. We’re the only country that turns submission counts into news, that celebrates every single name on a credit list, that waves flags on stage and brings a samba school to the Palais.
So no, there couldn’t have been a more symbolic choice for the very first "Country of the Year" at Cannes. Expect a party like only Brazilians can throw. But also, expect something deeper.
Because this historic moment didn’t happen despite our diversity—it happened because of it. And it’s time we said it out loud: Brazil would not be the most creative country in the world without its women.
And when we talk about barriers, for women the math doubles.
On top of everything men face, we carry the weight of the second shift, the outdated belief that women “aren’t creative,” and an industry still scarred by moral and sexual harassment. It’s the saddest part of an otherwise joyful story. Almost out of sync with Brazil. But real.
And the result? Brutal. In Brazil, only 25% of creative roles are held by women. And just 2% make it to executive creative leadership. The math simply doesn’t add up.
That’s why this Cannes recognition cannot be told without them.
Without the women who resisted, created and led—especially when everything and everyone told them not to. I know I won’t remember all of their names, but here is my tribute to the Brazilian women who made it, and in doing so, made space for so many more:
Alessandra Gomes, Alessandra Mucillo, Alessandra Sadock, Ana Martha Silveira, Andrea Siqueira, Beta Harada, Bianca Guimarães, Carla Cancellara, Daniela Ribeiro, Isabela Pipitone, Joana Mendes, Joana Monteiro, Juliana Paracencio, Kaka Morelle, Laura Esteves, Lelê Pereira, Luciana Cani, Luciana Haguiara, Nina Lucato, Renata Maia, Renata Leão, Sofia Calvit, Sophie Schonburg, Vanessa Queiroz, Yuri Mussoli.
To all of you, and those who I may have missed, my deepest admiration. You’ve proven that talent does have a gender—specifically, the kind that never gives up.
But as I wrote these names, I also noticed something that stings: how few Black women were on this list. Not because they don’t exist—but because the industry hasn’t allowed enough of them to rise, lead and be seen. That absence isn’t an accident. It’s a call to action.
I feel honored to have been one of these voices at the Cannes Lions festival this year. And I know I’m not alone. There are many of us—spreading our passion for ideas around the world. Carrying not just Brazilian creativity in our hearts, but the responsibility to open doors so more women—of every background—can create, lead and be recognized.
So yes, Brazil won. But let’s make sure the story doesn’t get told without the names of the women who made this victory possible.
Let’s say them.
