I was reading about a proposed development earlier today (it doesn't really matter which one for this story) and I immediately thought to myself, "wow, this is a beautiful development. I like what they've done here." The project happens to be by one of my favorite architects in the city. Sadly though, we have yet to work with them on any of our projects.

I then decided to read the comment section of the article. There were dozens and dozens of comments and virtually all of them were negative and against the development. What is, of course, clear is that we all have different beliefs. We all see things differently. And that's part of the reason why creating any sort of change is usually so difficult.

But if you think about it, so much of our world resolves around change. If we want to address climate change, we are going to need to make changes. If we want to improve housing affordability, we are going to need to make changes. If we want to build more inclusive and economically prosperous cities, we are going to need to make changes.

The challenge with all of this change is that we have inertia working against us. Case in point: I'm sure that most of us have been in a meeting at one point or another when a decision was made purely based on what was done the last time around. We did X. So let's do X again. Why change? Probably a safe bet.

Seth Godin once said that, "if you do anything that matters, it means you're trying to change something." He was talking about the world of marketing. But I believe that there's a universal truth to this. Change unlocks potential.

"Very little remarkable comes out of bureaucracies for a simple reason. The members of the bureaucracy seek to be beyond reproach. Reproach is their nightmare, their enemy, the thing to avoid at all costs. And the remarkable feels like a risk." --Seth Godin

I went into the office yesterday to sign some documents (they had to be originals) that I have been working on finalizing for the last 6-7 months. I'm not going to share what the documents were or who was involved, but I will say that it took the entire 6-7 months to get two lines added to the agreement. No other changes. Just the addition of two lines -- okay, it was more like a line and a half. On the one hand, I am horrified that such simple things can take so long in the hands of bureaucracy. On the other hand, this is not an outlying situation.

I say this not to bitch, but to instead make a case for the remarkable. As I was signing the documents yesterday, I couldn't help but think of the writing of Seth Godin and quotes like the one at the top of this post (which is from a post called "Bureaucracy = death"). Because one of the professional goals that I have set for myself is to always strive to create things that are remarkable. I want people to look at whatever the thing might be and think to themselves, "yeah, this is extraordinary."

But here's the thing about remarkability. It lives on the edges. It's by definition not ordinary. It is extra-ordinary. And so there's risk. Maybe it won't work. But you know, that's okay. It also thrives on novelty. You have to be the first and you have to be the best. Because when it does work, it'll very quickly become the ordinary. But this too is okay because it's how the world moves forward. Remarkability is not a one time event, it is something that is continuous.

That we have organizations with cultures and processes that systematically eschew the remarkable makes me sad.

Seth Godin recently posted this four quadrant chart on his blog. It is for plotting different products based on price and based on want vs. need. In his post, he asks his audience to think about what they’re offering and which quadrant it fits within. It can only be in one.

I am fascinated by questions of pricing. At at some point on this blog, I wrote about a pricing class that I took at Rotman while I was doing my MBA about a decade ago. It stands out to me as one of my favorite university classes.

So let’s consider these four quadrants.

In the top left, you have inexpensive products that are wants and not needs. This quadrant is where you’d place those novelty sunglasses you picked up for your friend’s theme party. Fun for that moment, but if they break or you lose them, that’s probably okay.

In the top right are expensive wants. Seth uses the example of a Hermès purse. The need is a place to put your belongings, but that’s not how these sorts of items are priced. The real value, arguably, comes from their “signaling” and how they make the owner feel.

This is the luxury goods category. Demand will likely be cyclical and sporadic, and so you’ll need to make sure that you have fat margins.

In the bottom right are expensive needs — like a pacemaker. Seth’s point is that these products need to work exceptionally well, all of the time. In the case of a pacemaker, it is truly a matter of life or death. At the same time, there’s going to be less price sensitivity.

In the bottom left are the inexpensive wants. Low cost products that people really want and are infinitely useful. Seth’s example is Amazon Web Services.

This quadrant of products is attractive because demand will naturally be extremely high. Cheap and invaluable will do that. However, Seth’s caution is that you still need to sustainably deliver the goods. These aren’t novelty sunglasses.

I find it helpful to think of products as existing in only one quadrant. But most offerings aren’t going to exist all they way in one corner. It’s perhaps important to consider the “job to be done.” (To borrow from the late Clayton Christensen.)

Take, for example, housing. On a fundamental level, it’s a need. We all need shelter. But it can also be a want, or have aspects of want. I need a place to live. But I want a place in the mountains. This subtle difference means something very different when plotted precisely.

Image: Seth Godin