I have been thinking a lot about city branding lately. It’s a topic I’m interested in to begin with, and all of the Blue Jays mania going on in Toronto right now has got thinking about our own brand.
Because at the end of the day, yes, it’s baseball. But it’s also something much larger. It’s about civic and national pride, and it’s about who we are as a city. That’s why city branding has become a global industry and why it’s so closely connected to tourism, media, sports, and entertainment.
Still, great city branding is incredibly difficult to do. Lots of cities have tried and lots of cities – from Adelaide to Toronto – have failed. Anyone remember the “Toronto Unlimited” brand of the mid-2000′s? It had absolutely zero stickiness.
But in reality, cities are brand building all the time whether they realize it or not. Here in Toronto, our biggest brand builder right now is probably Drake. That might sound silly to some, but I believe it to be true. And next to that, you have people like Jose Bautista with his bat flips and his support of local brands like Peace Collective. In addition to their day jobs, these people are helping to shape the identity of the city.
What, then, is professional city branding supposed to do?
Well, in my opinion, it is their job to mine a city for the things that already exist. A city brand, no matter how great it may be, cannot be expected to create something from nothing. There has to be something there to begin with.
But once you identify that something, a great city brand can tie it all together; create a cohesive and collective identity; and serve as a guide for future decision making. And when that’s done effectively, you actually begin to enhance the things that you initially started out with. The associations become even more powerful.
So today I thought we could have a discussion in the comments about city brands. How would you describe the brand of your city in one sentence?
For me, I would describe Toronto along the lines of being the most livable and multicultural 24/7 global city. And when you think of it this way, you can probably see why I think a 2AM last call at the bar is laughable.
When I was working on my startup Dirt last year, one of the things we spent a bit of time figuring out was how to classify buildings according to neighborhood. Now, at first blush, this may seem like a fairly easy thing to do. You simply locate the building, figure out which neighborhood it’s in, and then tag it accordingly. But neighborhood boundaries and definitions aren’t as clear cut as you might think.
For example, a lot of you probably know that I live in the St. Lawrence Market neighborhood of Toronto. And indeed, if you look at this Wikipedia definition, I live in that area. But if you look at what they call it, it’s just: “St. Lawrence.” They also specify that it used to be called “St. Lawrence Ward”, but that today most people actually call it “the St. Lawrence Market.” So here you have an example of an evolving and changing name.
But then there’s the question of boundaries. According to Wikipedia’s definition, the north boundary is Front Street. This means that the North Market Building would be technically outside of the area and so would the Market Square condos. But I suspect that almost everyone would consider these two buildings to be part of the neighborhood. So where exactly is the north boundary? Is it King Street? Or maybe by Front Street they mean that all buildings on the north side of the street are included.
If you look at the city’s official neighborhood list (which is built from Statistics Canada Census Tracts) you’ll find a completely different boundary and name. According to this list, I live in the “Waterfront Communities–The Island” neighborhood. Obviously nobody, other than maybe somebody who deals with census data, would have any idea what this area is. But it’s how the city tracks its demographic data.
What this begins to show you is that neighborhood definitions and boundaries aren’t as black and white as they might initially seem. And it’s partially because cities themselves are always in flux. New neighborhoods emerge and old ones reinvent themselves. And as that happens, people start introducing new names and new terminologies.
When I was about 19 years old, people in Toronto used to say they were going out “on Richmond and Adelaide.” Since then, gentrification has pushed many of the bars and clubs out of that area. So people instead go out “on King West” or “on Ossington.” And as people begin to use those terms and identify with an area, new brands are created. Ask anybody who lives downtown and I bet they’ll tell you that King West has its own unique personality and even a type of person who typically lives there. This is an on the ground type of awareness though, which doesn’t get captured in census tracts.
The other reason neighborhood boundaries can be so fuzzy is because we – the real estate community – are constantly trying to manipulate them for our own benefit. I’m indifferent to the fact that this happens, but it is a reality. Think about how much the neighborhood of Yorkville has been stretched from its original roots north of Bloor Street. If a neighborhood has a good brand, agents and developers will naturally try and leverage it. Homeowners do it all the time too. Would you prefer to say that you live in Seaton Village or the Annex?
Ultimately, we (my Dirt cofounder and I) decided that neighborhood definitions and boundaries needed to be fluid. They needed to dynamically adjust with the market and come from as many people as possible on the ground. Because at the end of the day if the official documents say one thing, but the majority of city residents believe another, then that official boundary and definition are probably out of date. The crowd wins here.
We liked this approach because it was organic – just like cities.
I was out for a bike ride last night and, on my way home, I decided to try out the new dedicated bike lane on Adelaide Street. Usually I would take King Street, but it was completely full because of Caribana parties.
For those of you who may not be aware, the city of Toronto is currently piloting two dedicated bike lanes on Adelaide Street and Richmond Street in the downtown core. Both streets are one-way and because the lanes were so big to begin with (highway-like spacing), I’m told that these new bike lanes didn’t even eat up a driving lane.
Here’s a map of the pilot area:
Given that dedicated bike lanes are a scarce resource here in Toronto, I have to say that it was rather luxurious having my own piece of road. And because there’s no longer any fear of parked car doors swinging open, I was able to ride a lot faster than I normally would.
But as my friend Evgeny pointed out earlier this week, there’s a big difference between dedicated and grade separated bike lanes. Indeed, on my trip from Bathurst Street to Church Street last night, I encountered 3 cars parked in my lane.
Fine or fire? Who will fix it, eh?#canadapostcares #300dollars pic.twitter.com/TIadlC5Omm
— Evgeny Tchebotarev (@tchebotarev)
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So, I hope that these bike lanes become a permanent fixture downtown, but that the city makes them grade-separated. I’m sure people will use them. At the same time, I think they could also act as a catalyst for more pedestrian life along both of these streets.
If you haven’t yet tried them out, I would encourage you to do so. The city is tracking usage and so you would be supporting the cause. And if there’s anybody parked in your lane, below is one way to handle it. It’s a video by Casey Neistat out of New York. If you can’t see it below, click here.
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bzE-IMaegzQ?rel=0]