Brandon Donnelly
Daily insights for city builders. Published since 2013 by Toronto-based real estate developer Brandon Donnelly.
Brandon Donnelly
Daily insights for city builders. Published since 2013 by Toronto-based real estate developer Brandon Donnelly.
Venice has been keeping flood records for 150 years, though it is generally understood that the city has been regularly flooding since the very beginning. It usually happens between the fall and the spring and the earliest record is believed to be from the 6th century.
This past week, Venice saw its acqua alta (or high water) peak at 187cm (6'2") above its normal level. This is the second highest number on record and is just below its 1966 peak. At these numbers, about 80% of the historic center is underwater. Here is a chart from the WSJ explaining that:

Venice has been working on a flood management project called MOSE since the 1980s. The name is an acronym, but there's a deliberate biblical reference here. Remember when Moses parted the red sea?
The project has been mired in engineering delays and corruption scandals, and so it's not yet operational. If it were, it would have, in theory, protected the city this past week. 2022 is the anticipated completion date, but I don't know if that's realistic or not.
The system consists of 78 mobile gates that fill with water and sit flat on the seabed when the tide is low. When a high tide is predicted, the gates are then to be pumped with air so that they rise (hinged on one side) and close off the three inlets that connect the Venetian Lagoon to the Adriatic Sea.
As I was reading about this project and everything else that has been going on in Venice this past week, I became curious about how exactly the Dutch have been managing to hold back the sea. I mean, a big chunk of the Netherlands sits below sea level.
If you're also curious, here's a video that explains how they do it.

A few years ago I wrote a post talking about "depression babies." In it, I cited a research paper that looked at the impact of macroeconomic shocks on people's willingness to take on financial risk in the future. The term "depression babies" stems from the Great Depression and how it is believed to have impacted risk taking, savings rates, and probably many other things.
I was reminded of this when I read this recent article in the WSJ talking about how the Chinese have started spending -- and taking on the debt -- like Americans, particularly among Chinese under 30. It is the inverse of the depression baby phenomenon. In this case, it is arguably years of economic expansion leading to greater comfort around financial risk.
Here are a couple of figures from the article:

JPMorgan estimates China’s ratio of household debt to gross domestic product will climb to 61% by 2020. That’s up from 26% in 2010 and higher than current levels in Italy and Greece.
The level in the U.S. is about 76%, after falling from 98% in 2006, according to the International Monetary Fund.
By another measure—the ratio of household debt to disposable income—China appears to have already surpassed the U.S. Its ratio reached 117.2% in 2018, up from 42.7% in 2008, according to calculations by Lei Ning, a researcher at the Institute for Advanced Research at Shanghai University of Finance and Economics. The U.S. peaked at 135% in 2007 and dropped to 101% in 2018.
Not surprisingly, the article goes on to talk about how this dramatic increase in household debt might be something to worry about. Maybe. I'm not an economist. But I do think this is designed to boost the Chinese growth machine and I do think it makes them less reliant on other countries -- such as, maybe, the United States.
Venice has been keeping flood records for 150 years, though it is generally understood that the city has been regularly flooding since the very beginning. It usually happens between the fall and the spring and the earliest record is believed to be from the 6th century.
This past week, Venice saw its acqua alta (or high water) peak at 187cm (6'2") above its normal level. This is the second highest number on record and is just below its 1966 peak. At these numbers, about 80% of the historic center is underwater. Here is a chart from the WSJ explaining that:

Venice has been working on a flood management project called MOSE since the 1980s. The name is an acronym, but there's a deliberate biblical reference here. Remember when Moses parted the red sea?
The project has been mired in engineering delays and corruption scandals, and so it's not yet operational. If it were, it would have, in theory, protected the city this past week. 2022 is the anticipated completion date, but I don't know if that's realistic or not.
The system consists of 78 mobile gates that fill with water and sit flat on the seabed when the tide is low. When a high tide is predicted, the gates are then to be pumped with air so that they rise (hinged on one side) and close off the three inlets that connect the Venetian Lagoon to the Adriatic Sea.
As I was reading about this project and everything else that has been going on in Venice this past week, I became curious about how exactly the Dutch have been managing to hold back the sea. I mean, a big chunk of the Netherlands sits below sea level.
If you're also curious, here's a video that explains how they do it.

A few years ago I wrote a post talking about "depression babies." In it, I cited a research paper that looked at the impact of macroeconomic shocks on people's willingness to take on financial risk in the future. The term "depression babies" stems from the Great Depression and how it is believed to have impacted risk taking, savings rates, and probably many other things.
I was reminded of this when I read this recent article in the WSJ talking about how the Chinese have started spending -- and taking on the debt -- like Americans, particularly among Chinese under 30. It is the inverse of the depression baby phenomenon. In this case, it is arguably years of economic expansion leading to greater comfort around financial risk.
Here are a couple of figures from the article:

JPMorgan estimates China’s ratio of household debt to gross domestic product will climb to 61% by 2020. That’s up from 26% in 2010 and higher than current levels in Italy and Greece.
The level in the U.S. is about 76%, after falling from 98% in 2006, according to the International Monetary Fund.
By another measure—the ratio of household debt to disposable income—China appears to have already surpassed the U.S. Its ratio reached 117.2% in 2018, up from 42.7% in 2008, according to calculations by Lei Ning, a researcher at the Institute for Advanced Research at Shanghai University of Finance and Economics. The U.S. peaked at 135% in 2007 and dropped to 101% in 2018.
Not surprisingly, the article goes on to talk about how this dramatic increase in household debt might be something to worry about. Maybe. I'm not an economist. But I do think this is designed to boost the Chinese growth machine and I do think it makes them less reliant on other countries -- such as, maybe, the United States.
In business we are told to listen to our customers. Be customer-centric. In city building we are told to listen to the community. Be community-focused. And there’s no question that these mantras exist for a reason. They are paramount.
But when should you not listen?
I watched a Chef’s Table documentary last night on Massimo Bottura (pictured above), who is the owner and operator of Osteria Francescana in Modena, Italy. Osteria Francescana is a 3 star Michelin restaurant and widely ranked as one of the best restaurants in the world.
But it wasn’t easy for Massimo at the beginning. His goal was to bring the Italian kitchen into the 21st century and so his plates are often creative takes on classic Italian dishes. His restaurant blends the old and new; food and contemporary art.
This approach upset a lot of people at the outset. Massimo was seen almost as a traitor who was turning his back on traditional Italian cooking within provincial Modena. Don’t mess with centuries of tradition they would say. Grandma knew best, son.
Because of this, his restaurant sat empty in the early years, to that point that he was ready to close its doors. The only reason he kept it open was because his wife encouraged him to give it one more year. She said: This is the kind of food you want to make. If you don’t try, you’ll regret it.
So he gave it another year and luckily he got a few breaks, including a glowing review by a well known food critic from out of town. Once this hit, the Modenese started to quickly rethink their distaste for Massimo’s idiosyncratic dishes. Before long, his restaurant was full.
So what changed? It wasn’t the dishes. It was perception. The out of town critics and positive reviews gave people permission to like the dishes. This is critical because nobody needs permission to like tradition. It’s tradition, after all. There’s little risk in that.
But there’s risk in liking something new that hasn’t been done before. Change creates uncertainty. And if Massimo’s wife hadn’t encouraged him to stick with it just a bit longer and ignore the naysayers, the world may not have one of its top restaurants.
Sometimes we don’t know what we like and want until we are shown.
Image: Osteria Francescana
In business we are told to listen to our customers. Be customer-centric. In city building we are told to listen to the community. Be community-focused. And there’s no question that these mantras exist for a reason. They are paramount.
But when should you not listen?
I watched a Chef’s Table documentary last night on Massimo Bottura (pictured above), who is the owner and operator of Osteria Francescana in Modena, Italy. Osteria Francescana is a 3 star Michelin restaurant and widely ranked as one of the best restaurants in the world.
But it wasn’t easy for Massimo at the beginning. His goal was to bring the Italian kitchen into the 21st century and so his plates are often creative takes on classic Italian dishes. His restaurant blends the old and new; food and contemporary art.
This approach upset a lot of people at the outset. Massimo was seen almost as a traitor who was turning his back on traditional Italian cooking within provincial Modena. Don’t mess with centuries of tradition they would say. Grandma knew best, son.
Because of this, his restaurant sat empty in the early years, to that point that he was ready to close its doors. The only reason he kept it open was because his wife encouraged him to give it one more year. She said: This is the kind of food you want to make. If you don’t try, you’ll regret it.
So he gave it another year and luckily he got a few breaks, including a glowing review by a well known food critic from out of town. Once this hit, the Modenese started to quickly rethink their distaste for Massimo’s idiosyncratic dishes. Before long, his restaurant was full.
So what changed? It wasn’t the dishes. It was perception. The out of town critics and positive reviews gave people permission to like the dishes. This is critical because nobody needs permission to like tradition. It’s tradition, after all. There’s little risk in that.
But there’s risk in liking something new that hasn’t been done before. Change creates uncertainty. And if Massimo’s wife hadn’t encouraged him to stick with it just a bit longer and ignore the naysayers, the world may not have one of its top restaurants.
Sometimes we don’t know what we like and want until we are shown.
Image: Osteria Francescana
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