“Toronto is a city that has long struggled to make any sort of impression on the imagination.”
That is how Monocle correspondent Christopher Frey started his recent architectural feature on Toronto’s iconic City Hall. To watch the video click here. It’s about 5 minutes long.
As a born and raised Torontonian who loves this city, I absolutely hate that sort of introduction. But at the same time, it doesn’t surprise me. Growing up in this city, there were always the haters. However, I think it’s important to keep 2 things in mind.
Firstly, Toronto has gone through a dramatic transformation over the last decade or so. In fact, I recently had a friend say to me: “Brandon, 10 years ago you told me that Toronto was going to be a super cool global city. I didn’t believe you then. But you were right.” This is what I was getting at in my Guardian Cities piece when I talked about how people are becoming noticeably more passionate about this city. (I actually wrote about what my friend said but they edited that part out.)
Secondly, if you’ve ever read Seth Godin’s book All Marketers Are Liars, you might remember this line:
“We believe what we want to believe, and once we believe something, it becomes a self-fulfilling truth.” -Seth Godin
— Brandon G. Donnelly (@donnelly_b)
To illustrate what he means by this, Godin uses the example–among many others–of Riedel wine glasses. Riedel is a high end glassware company founded on the belief that every type of wine needs its own unique glass shape. And indeed, their customers believe that the right glass makes all the difference in terms of how their wine will taste. That’s why they buy them.
However, when you blindfold those same people, they are no longer able to tell the difference between a Riedel wine glass and some cheap alternative. The wine all of a sudden tastes the same. What that tells us is that when we believe something is supposed to be better, we actually experience it differently. You could say that we’re actually lying to ourself.
And I’ve thought about this same phenomenon when it comes to cities. When people visit a place like New York they’re supposed to like it. That’s what everybody tells them. New York is great. You’ll love it. But ultimately, that “supposed to” changes how people experience the city.
Which is why when Toronto gets introduced as being bland and banal I get upset. Not only because I disagree, but because I know it’s creating a “supposed to” in somebody’s mind. And that’s not the story we should be telling as a city.
Image: Wikipedia
I was reading Fred Wilson’s AVC.com blog this morning (as I do every morning), and I thought his post on trust was a really important one. He was talking about it in the context of building successful web applications, but I don’t think it’s only applicable to internet businesses.
As marketer Seth Godin wrote on his blog earlier this year, the most important questions are not:
Is my price low enough?
Is it reliable enough?
Do I offer enough features?
Am I on the right social media channels?
Is the website cool enough?
Am I promising enough?
No, the most important question in marketing something to someone who hasn’t purchased it before is,
“Do they trust me enough to believe my promises?”
Without that, you have nothing.
I thought this was such an awesome, yet simple, post that I actually circulated it to a bunch of people in the office after I read it. Because whether you’re marketing widgets, marketing private cloud storage, marketing to investors, or marketing new condominiums, that question of trust is paramount.
And it’s for that reason that I think social media and mediums such as blogging have become so important. Customers want to feel like they trust you before they buy your product. The best brands know this and forge “relationships” with their customers. And with the tools at our disposal today, it’s become a lot easier for companies to do that.
Last night before bed I decided to buy a book on my Kindle (iPad app) that I’ve been meaning to read for awhile. It’s called Poke the Box and it’s by Seth Godin. It’s a short read and it’s meant to be that way. You could easily read it in one sitting.
The book is about taking initiative. Taking action. And drawing your own map. It’s about not being scared of failure and realizing that failures are how you learn. It’s about poking the box, which is a computer programming reference. Programmers learn by poking the box (computer) and seeing what works and what doesn’t work.
As I read through the book I’m reminded of something that venture capitalist Ben Horowitz wrote a few months ago on his blog:
"Every employee in a company depends on the CEO to make fast, high quality decisions. Often any decision, even the wrong decision, is better than no decision."
Both Godin and Horowitz are, in a way, talking about the same thing: You have to keep moving. Make decisions. Start stuff. And stop worrying so much about being wrong, because it’s virtually impossible to know how things will eventually play out in the future.
A perfect example of this is Starbucks.
The first Starbucks in Seattle didn’t sell brewed coffee. It sold beans. And had it continued along this path, it certainly wouldn’t have become the brand that it is today. In fact, it may have failed completely. It wasn’t until Howard Schultz saw what they had started and combined it with what he had learned in Italy, that the Starbucks experience of today was born.
The important thing is that somebody (Jerry Baldwin, Zev Siegl and Gordon Bowker) took the initiative to start and build a Starbucks. It didn’t matter that they got the recipe wrong, they poked the box and it ultimately lead to something magical.
The same reluctance to poke the box can also be found in city building.
Here in Toronto we spend a significant amount of time debating and vacillating around transit decisions (as well as many other things). Should we build LRT? Or should we build subway? What should we replace the Scarborough Rapid Transit line with?
But we’ve fallen into analysis paralysis.
The original Transit City Plan was announced on March 16th, 2007. It’s now 2014. And transit still sucks. Imagine if we started and finished, say, 2 kilometers of rapid transit each and every year. Forget worrying if it’s LRT, subway or a horse drawn space ship. We just kept moving.
Something tells me that we’d be better off, even if we did make a few mistakes along the way.