Alex Bozikovic of the Globe and Mail recently made a good point in one of his articles about how challenging it is to properly "placemake" when it comes to large-scale masterplanned projects. This blog post is not at all intended as a commentary on any one project, but I would like to acknowledge that, for a variety of reasons, places do often need time, layers of history, and some patina on them in order to really settle in. When you build big, it can be easy for things to end up feeling sterile.
It is also true that tastes can change over time (as we have talked about before), though you could argue that this change is driven by the settling in process. Spaces start to get rethought, reconfigured and recast, and that can make them more desirable.
But it's not just about time. What else is going on here that makes masterplanning so tricky? Four things immediately come to mind. If you have any others, please share them in the comment section below.
One, a lot of the old stuff that we love is now illegal and no longer possible. Here is a great example from Paris that I wrote about. But there are countless others. Another example from Toronto might be the corner retail stores that used to dot our residential neighborhoods. In my opinion, these are wonderful additions. They create urban vibrancy. But today they are generally
Alex Bozikovic of the Globe and Mail recently made a good point in one of his articles about how challenging it is to properly "placemake" when it comes to large-scale masterplanned projects. This blog post is not at all intended as a commentary on any one project, but I would like to acknowledge that, for a variety of reasons, places do often need time, layers of history, and some patina on them in order to really settle in. When you build big, it can be easy for things to end up feeling sterile.
It is also true that tastes can change over time (as we have talked about before), though you could argue that this change is driven by the settling in process. Spaces start to get rethought, reconfigured and recast, and that can make them more desirable.
But it's not just about time. What else is going on here that makes masterplanning so tricky? Four things immediately come to mind. If you have any others, please share them in the comment section below.
One, a lot of the old stuff that we love is now illegal and no longer possible. Here is a great example from Paris that I wrote about. But there are countless others. Another example from Toronto might be the corner retail stores that used to dot our residential neighborhoods. In my opinion, these are wonderful additions. They create urban vibrancy. But today they are generally
Two, great urban experiences often happen at the micro scale. Things like the perfect patio with a great view of the street and full afternoon sun. Or that intimate side street lined with beautiful homes. These are some of the moments that make cities great. But when you're masterplanning at the master scale, it is perhaps easier for more of these intimate details to get lost.
Three, any new community needs to be seeded. Cities and communities are nothing without people. And so what will be the anchors? What will bring people here? How are we going to animate its streets and public spaces? These can be tricky problems to solve and they often take time (and density).
Four, masterplanning likely equals fewer feedback loops. I recently came across this great line from Chris Dixon: "Composability is to software as compounding interest is to finance." Composability is the ability to mix and match software components. And the idea here is that open source software allows new software to get built on top of existing stuff (just like interest on top of interest). This way the world never needs to solve a problem twice.
I'm not sure what the pithy line should be for city building, but cities also compound. We are constantly building on top of the efforts of others, except when we're largely not, and we're designing a whole bunch of new stuff all at once, as is typically the case with masterplanned projects. This isn't inherently wrong, but building a community from scratch will always be more difficult than adding on to one that is already successful.
Wired published a great article last week talking about "the 10,000 faces that launched an NFT revolution." What they are of course talking about are the CryptoPunk NFTs that I think most people would agree are one of the "OGs" of NFT art. Initially minted in 2017, they are usually credited with starting the NFT craze that we are all living through today. CryptoPunk #7523, for example, sold for $11.75 million. I think this is the most expensive CryptoPunk in the world. Either way, it is one of the most expensive NFTs out there.
But as I was reading through the article I was reminded of something. Toronto is doing an awful job celebrating the fact that an immense out of crypto innovation has and continues to come out of Toronto. CryptoPunks, which is Larva Labs, was started by two guys from Toronto who met at the University of Toronto. I know that it is still early days for crypto and web3, but why are we not telling this story to the rest of the world and using it to continue to attract the smartest and most ambitious people to our great city?
This is a missed economic development opportunity. And the door won't be open forever. If any of our city leaders are reading this post (which is unlikely), I would encourage you to give this some serious thought and take action.
On a related note, the above article is great evidence for Chris Dixon's argument that, "what the smartest people do on the weekend is what everyone else will do during the week in ten years." Larva Labs was started by two software developers who worked during the day and used their evenings and weekends for new passion projects. CryptoPunks wasn't their first initiative, but it has obviously come to define them. Smart people need room to play and experiment. Often that happens after hours.
Two, great urban experiences often happen at the micro scale. Things like the perfect patio with a great view of the street and full afternoon sun. Or that intimate side street lined with beautiful homes. These are some of the moments that make cities great. But when you're masterplanning at the master scale, it is perhaps easier for more of these intimate details to get lost.
Three, any new community needs to be seeded. Cities and communities are nothing without people. And so what will be the anchors? What will bring people here? How are we going to animate its streets and public spaces? These can be tricky problems to solve and they often take time (and density).
Four, masterplanning likely equals fewer feedback loops. I recently came across this great line from Chris Dixon: "Composability is to software as compounding interest is to finance." Composability is the ability to mix and match software components. And the idea here is that open source software allows new software to get built on top of existing stuff (just like interest on top of interest). This way the world never needs to solve a problem twice.
I'm not sure what the pithy line should be for city building, but cities also compound. We are constantly building on top of the efforts of others, except when we're largely not, and we're designing a whole bunch of new stuff all at once, as is typically the case with masterplanned projects. This isn't inherently wrong, but building a community from scratch will always be more difficult than adding on to one that is already successful.
Wired published a great article last week talking about "the 10,000 faces that launched an NFT revolution." What they are of course talking about are the CryptoPunk NFTs that I think most people would agree are one of the "OGs" of NFT art. Initially minted in 2017, they are usually credited with starting the NFT craze that we are all living through today. CryptoPunk #7523, for example, sold for $11.75 million. I think this is the most expensive CryptoPunk in the world. Either way, it is one of the most expensive NFTs out there.
But as I was reading through the article I was reminded of something. Toronto is doing an awful job celebrating the fact that an immense out of crypto innovation has and continues to come out of Toronto. CryptoPunks, which is Larva Labs, was started by two guys from Toronto who met at the University of Toronto. I know that it is still early days for crypto and web3, but why are we not telling this story to the rest of the world and using it to continue to attract the smartest and most ambitious people to our great city?
This is a missed economic development opportunity. And the door won't be open forever. If any of our city leaders are reading this post (which is unlikely), I would encourage you to give this some serious thought and take action.
On a related note, the above article is great evidence for Chris Dixon's argument that, "what the smartest people do on the weekend is what everyone else will do during the week in ten years." Larva Labs was started by two software developers who worked during the day and used their evenings and weekends for new passion projects. CryptoPunks wasn't their first initiative, but it has obviously come to define them. Smart people need room to play and experiment. Often that happens after hours.
These "aesthetic monsters" are part of a new NFT collection that I recently bought into. They're called Angomon (supposedly "ango" translates from Japanese into "dwelling in peace"). And they can be purchased on the Magic Eden NFT marketplace. At the time of writing this post, the floor price is about 1.15 SOL.
The ultimate plan is for these characters to live in some sort of 3D world that will be called the Angoverse (which is an obvious play on metaverse). The team is also planning to provide NFT holders with the original 3D files for these Angomon so that owners can 3D print their own real-world figurines. Longer term, the hope is that there will be official Angomon collectible figurines available for purchase.
All of these things are of course future plans. They could happen or they could not. These NFTs could have tremendous value or they could not. I just thought these monsters looked cool and fashionable, and so I bought a few. Right now the plan is to frame them and display them all at Parkview Mountain House.
But it is also interesting to note how go-to-market strategies are changing in this new world of crypto and web3. Fred Wilson recently wrote about this over on his blog. In web2 (think the Facebook/Instagram era), most consumer applications started out with a tool. The network came after.
Chris Dixon called this strategy, "come for the tool, stay for the network." In the case of Instagram, the tool was initially photo filters. People used it to apply those filters that made every photo look brown and hipster-like. But eventually network effects took over and that became more important. There are were lots of people using it.
In web3, everything now seems to start with some kind of asset or token. People buy in and then become invested in the project, which is interesting because they then begin to market out of self-interest. This post is not about that and is more about sharing something that I think is cool.
Fred Wilson has proposed a new slogan for this. It is: "come for the assets, stay for the experience." So these Angomon are now assets of mine. If the experience does eventually come, I guess I'll stick around. Hello web3.
These "aesthetic monsters" are part of a new NFT collection that I recently bought into. They're called Angomon (supposedly "ango" translates from Japanese into "dwelling in peace"). And they can be purchased on the Magic Eden NFT marketplace. At the time of writing this post, the floor price is about 1.15 SOL.
The ultimate plan is for these characters to live in some sort of 3D world that will be called the Angoverse (which is an obvious play on metaverse). The team is also planning to provide NFT holders with the original 3D files for these Angomon so that owners can 3D print their own real-world figurines. Longer term, the hope is that there will be official Angomon collectible figurines available for purchase.
All of these things are of course future plans. They could happen or they could not. These NFTs could have tremendous value or they could not. I just thought these monsters looked cool and fashionable, and so I bought a few. Right now the plan is to frame them and display them all at Parkview Mountain House.
But it is also interesting to note how go-to-market strategies are changing in this new world of crypto and web3. Fred Wilson recently wrote about this over on his blog. In web2 (think the Facebook/Instagram era), most consumer applications started out with a tool. The network came after.
Chris Dixon called this strategy, "come for the tool, stay for the network." In the case of Instagram, the tool was initially photo filters. People used it to apply those filters that made every photo look brown and hipster-like. But eventually network effects took over and that became more important. There are were lots of people using it.
In web3, everything now seems to start with some kind of asset or token. People buy in and then become invested in the project, which is interesting because they then begin to market out of self-interest. This post is not about that and is more about sharing something that I think is cool.
Fred Wilson has proposed a new slogan for this. It is: "come for the assets, stay for the experience." So these Angomon are now assets of mine. If the experience does eventually come, I guess I'll stick around. Hello web3.
