You’ve probably noticed that I have removed the Architect This City branding from this blog and gone to just my name. I like to refer to it as unbranding. (Though one could argue that a person’s name is still just another brand.)

Already I’ve received a few emails from people telling me that they prefer the old look and feel of ATC and that there’s some level of brand equity there. But let me explain my thinking.

First and foremost, this is a personal blog. I’ve written about that before. And it’s why it’s hosted at brandondonnelly.com. But along the way, as readership grew, I attached a name to it (ATC) and it started to become a kind of pseudo-independent brand. 

When I would speak at events, people would introduce me as the founder of Architect This City, which always struck me as a bit odd because, again, this is just my personal blog. People also started asking me why I wasn’t turning ATC into some big company and started treating the blog as a media channel. You should see how many press releases I now find in my inbox.

Of course, these are good “problems” to have. It means my writing is getting out there and I am thrilled about that. But I was starting to feel increasingly uncomfortable with the grey area between a personal and independent brand. I also felt like it was starting to impact my creative writing because I would sometimes wonder if I was going too personal on “Architect This City.”

To reinforce that point, below is a snippet from a post that Fred Wilson wrote on his blog last summer. His 10+ year old blog has been a huge inspiration for me.

“There is something about the personal blog, yourname.com, where you control everything and get to do whatever the hell pleases you. There is something about linking to one of those blogs and then saying something. It’s like having a conversation in public with each other. This is how blogging was in the early days. And this is how blogging is today, if you want it to be.”

So I decided to clarify the brand. I wanted to make it clear that this blog is about my personal musings on city building, among the other things that I’m passionate about. And I wanted it to not pretend to be anything else.

Ultimately, regular scheduled programming won’t really change for you. The content on this blog is still going to be heavy on city building, real estate development, design, planning and so on. And I will endeavor to create as much value as I can for all of you on a daily basis. (I am humbled by the number of people who now subscribe.) But hopefully it will end up feeling a bit more personal.

Of course, now there’s the question of what do I do with the ATC brand (and social accounts). Do I let it die or do I spin it off into something else? I’m considering the latter. I’ve been obsessed for years with the idea of crowdsourcing and collecting meaningful real estate and city building activity, so maybe ATC will turn into some kind of open platform for that.

But for now, I am feeling pretty excited about the unbranding of this blog. Hopefully some of you feel the same way.

Last month I wrote a post talking about YOO Architecture. And in the body of that post I mentioned my interest in branding and marketing and how I wondered why it was something we never really talked about in architecture school.

After publishing that post, a close friend of mine from architecture school quickly pointed out to me that there are firms today that are integrating brand design into their practices. Specifically, he mentioned two firms: Gensler and Snøhetta.

Here’s some of Snøhetta’s work (click here for more it):

I wasn’t aware that this was the case with these firms, but I’m delighted to see it happening. At the same time, I’m not surprised to see it happening. Architecture and branding have the potential to go hand-in-hand.

A good brand and identity isn’t just about logos and tag lines. It should speak to and reinforce an organization’s belief system. 

And one of the most powerful ways to do that is through its architecture and environments. I mean, just look at how important the design of Apple’s stores are to the Apple brand.

Images: Snøhetta

In keeping with the recent theme about cities, their brands, and the messages they send, I thought I would revisit an old essay (2008) written by Paul Graham (of Y-Combinator) called “Cities and Ambition.” In it, he talks about the various messages that cities send us, such as:

• You should make more money (New York)

• You should be better looking (Miami?)

• You should be smarter (Cambridge)

• You should be more powerful (Silicon Valley)

But the most interesting part of his argument is the belief that we are largely products of our environment. No matter how strong or formidable our personalities might be, the message a city sends us is hugely important. In fact, it might be impossible to escape it. Here’s how Paul puts it:

How much does it matter what message a city sends? Empirically, the answer seems to be: a lot. You might think that if you had enough strength of mind to do great things, you’d be able to transcend your environment. Where you live should make at most a couple percent difference.

But if you look at the historical evidence, it seems to matter more than that. Most people who did great things were clumped together in a few places where that sort of thing was done at the time.

You can see how powerful cities are from something I wrote about earlier: the case of the Milanese Leonardo. Practically every fifteenth century Italian painter you’ve heard of was from Florence, even though Milan was just as big. People in Florence weren’t genetically different, so you have to assume there was someone born in Milan with as much natural ability as Leonardo. What happened to him?

If even someone with the same natural ability as Leonardo couldn’t beat the force of environment, do you suppose you can?

I don’t. I’m fairly stubborn, but I wouldn’t try to fight this force. I’d rather use it. So I’ve thought a lot about where to live.

To some, this thought may depress you. I mean, if you happen to live in a city or place with the “wrong” message, you might feel as if you’re missing out. I know that thought certainly crossed my mind when I read his essay. But different messages resonate with different people, and so maybe the message your city is telling you is exactly the one you need to accomplish great things.

In Toronto, I’d say that the message is similar to that of New York: You should make more money. Oh, and also that you should buy more condos ;)

What message does your city tell you?