Springboards is one of 23 startups picked to pitch at SXSW Sydney 2025—and we’re also taking the stage to stir the pot on creativity + AI.
It’s official: Springboards is heading to SXSW Sydney. We’re pitching, we’re presenting, and we’re bringing our take on AI + creativity.
Out of hundreds of startups across APAC, we’ve been chosen as one of just 23 finalists for the SXSW Sydney Pitch 2025, competing in the Enterprise, Big Data & AI category.
We’re proud to be repping creative humans in a sea of tech startups.
Check out the rest of the finalists here.
Our co-founders, Pip Bingemann (CEO) and Kieran Browne (CTO) will also take the stage to present: AI on Acid: Breaking the Machines to Break the Mold.
This session will unveil results from Creativity Benchmark, the world’s first industry research testing AI’s creative potential, not just its logic.
Launched with partners the APG, IAA, 4A’s, One Club, D&AD, ACA and IPA, the benchmark looks at: Which models are the best at inspiring creativity? And what does that mean for the work we make?
We’ll share the findings and what this means for the industry.
Read more about the other sessions in the Tech and Innovation track at SXSW Sydney here.
See you at SXSW Sydney.


It sounds overly simple, but expression at its purest. The way only you see the world and the weird way in which you decide to express that. That can be in music or art or math or a silly little pitch deck or in the song you make up to sing to your dog.
Neither - that gives it way too much power. Practically speaking, at a systems level, AI is going to raise the floor, but it's also going to lower the ceiling. I saw Chris Anderson from Wired do a talk in the early days of Maker culture mania. He likened the era to early internetting and Geocities. There's going to be a lot of shit until it gets really good. And then it's going to get intrusively spectacular. And then it's going to be frictionlessly and technically excellent that we don't notice it. When AI is no longer THE thing, I look forward to what things we can actually do with AI.
Anything Hunter S. Thompson. That level of chaos and "wrongness" is impossible to be predictable.
I don't know the weirdest place I've ever gotten an idea, but I'm keeping my weirdest billion-dollar idea a secret for now!
Mine's incredibly practical right now. I think it's valuable for pressure testing brand frameworks, especially for quite specialty audiences in complex fields. It's never the answer, but it's enough of a starting point, I can fumble my way through it.

Super Bowl. The greatest day in the calendar for Advertising. It's an embarrassment of riches, promotional excess and big bets. It’s glorious.
My second favourite thing after the great Football Advertising Party is reading and writing all about it. The hot takes. The bold claims. The annual flurry of loosely qualified assertions about how the landscape has forever changed. We in advertising never waste a good opportunity to declare a turning point. Naturally, we gorged ourselves. And although I might just be getting a bit older, both Caro and I couldn’t help but notice this one felt a little less sparkly.
Back on home soil, Caro was watching with equal parts ad-nerd enthusiasm and Patriots-induced heartbreak. Her read was immediate: the game felt a bit flat. And so did some of the ads. The sparkle was missing.
Not all of it, of course. There were proper bright spots.
Liquid IV leaning into a hydration truth most of us have quietly validated with a sideways glance. I suspect very few AI tools would confidently surface that particular insight if prompted. Kellogg’s William Shat Raisin Bran fibre reveal. Annoying, until it clicked. Then genuinely smart. Novartis weaving tight ends into preventative screening with surprising elegance.
Bathroom humour. Fibre jokes. Locker room puns. Juvenile? Slightly. Human? Completely. And maybe that is the point. Because the human bits cut through.
But let's talk about the very well-paid elephant in the room. Celebrities.
This reached a fever pitch last year and although their inclusion is down from 68% of all ads to 62%, it’s clear brands are still hedging risk and distinctive efforts with these folk. There’s nuance here. We can probably expect the number to keep falling. Others have addressed the issue more comprehensively. But the rule I was taught (and still try to stick to) is simple: fame is a byproduct, not a strategy.
Caro put it more bluntly: “if the idea only works because the celebrity is famous, it’s not an idea. It’s insurance.”
Insurance isn’t inherently bad. Insurance can feel safe. But safe rarely makes history.
And speaking of safe… Let’s talk about the other buzzword of the night, besides “field goal.” AI.
Interestingly, there may not have been a huge amount of AI used in the ads themselves (beyond Svedka, who at least admitted it). But there were certainly a lot of ads for AI. If Caro’s tracking is correct, we saw:
Anthropic: their first ever Super Bowl spot, clearly differentiating itself in the LLM race.
OpenAI: a 60 national Codex spot, plus regional ads showcasing small businesses leveraging ChatGPT.
Google Gemini.
Microsoft Copilot.
Amazon (Ring and Alexa. Framed as helpful, but among Caro’s watch party crowd, more than a few felt “creepy”).
Genspark, which sparked a different kind of room reaction: “Is this taking my job?”
Salesforce promoting Slack AI.
ai.com, which left many wondering what, exactly, it does.
From our vantage point at a scrappy AI company from Down Under, it was fascinating to watch the category openly confront itself on the biggest stage in culture. It is a competition, after all. And although many in our space are still learning how to “Super Bowl” (present company included), the open confrontation across tech and beyond was refreshing.
At the risk of alienating the EBI crowd, acknowledging your competition doesn’t simply donate attention to the category leader. Positioning still matters.
While I admired the spirit of Anthropic’s work, it reminded us of something Reed Hastings once said about Netflix: “No advertising coming to Netflix. Period.” Less than two years later, that position shifted. As the major players in AI fight to become the homepage of the internet, there are probably lessons to be learned from the streaming wars.
So yes. A few observations. A few trends. A few stats. But so what? Risk is so what.
Risk underpins every great Super Bowl ad in history. Every great campaign. The work we still talk about didn’t come from playing it safe. It came from someone taking a calculated leap. This year, outside of a few friendly swipes, felt more than a bit cautious. One of the more frustrating paradigms in Advertising is the idea of maths versus magic (as though we have to choose between data and creativity). Realistically, you need both. It’s a false dichotomy.
Magic i.e. creativity is, fortunately, much more difficult to train a language model on. It’s an innately human pursuit that the machines we’re currently enamoured by aren’t very good at on their own. They recognise patterns and desperately avoid risk. There is an answer to this, or at the very least, a wealth of inspiration.
If you want to see something risky, have a look at our Super Bowl spot. Apologies, experiment (for many reasons, most of which are legal). And if you have an appetite for risky work, please reach out - so do we.
We’ve built something that inspires you to find the risks worth taking.
The kind we both kept wishing we’d seen more of this year.

The act of noticing what others have learned not to see. It’s pattern recognition mixed with emotional intelligence and just enough mischief to rearrange the world. It’s not the spark, so much as it's the reframing. The ability to pick something up - an object, a memory, a myth, a moment in culture - turn it in your hand and say: What if this means something else?
AI is a mirror - and we don’t always like what we see. If you treat AI as a shortcut to “content,” you’ll get the flavourless soup you deserve. Rooms full of brand decks that sound like they were all written by the same middle manager in Slough. The cultural beige-ification of everything. But if you treat AI as a thinking partner - a provocation engine - you get something very different: velocity. Expansion. A chance to stretch beyond the first, obvious idea and get to the uncomfortable, interesting ones faster. AI doesn’t threaten originality. AI threatens laziness. And perhaps that’s overdue.
Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction. A model could replicate the sentences. It could summarise the thesis. It could imitate the rhythm, even. But it could never arrive at the idea. Because that essay wasn’t produced through analysis, it was produced through perception. Through noticing. Le Guin takes the oldest story humans tell - the hero, the weapon, the conquest - and quietly dismantles it with a single reframing move: The first human tool was not a spear. It was a carrier bag. A container. A holder. A vessel for sustaining life rather than taking it. From that one shift, the entire architecture of storytelling tilts. Narrative becomes collective, not competitive. Power becomes relational, not dominant. Survival becomes shared, not won. No machine does that. No dataset teaches you to subvert the underlying myth of civilisation itself.
Ursula K. Le Guin - The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction
Cleaning out cupboards is a favourite pastime. When the brain is bored and the hands are busy, the doors between the conscious and the sub-basement swing open. The good ideas live in the plumbing. They surface when the performative, clever, “I am ideating now” brain shuts up.
I use AI like a conceptual centrifuge. I throw in: a paragraph, a suspicion, the outline of a thought.I ask it to reshape it - longer, shorter, slower, mythic, corporate, angrier, whispering, bored. Not to pick one, but to see the shape of what it could be. Draft zero, rather than draft one. It keeps me from falling in love too early with my own cleverness.