Here is a good follow-up to yesterday’s post about Ian Schrager and Edition Hotels. It’s a short post by Seth Godin that I’m going to reblog here in full:

The gulf between “risky” and “feels risky” is huge. And it’s getting bigger.

It turns out that value creation lives in this gap. The things that most people won’t do (because it feels risky) that are in fact not risky at all.

If your compass for forward motion involves avoiding things that feel risky, it pays to get significantly better informed about what actually is risky.

I like this distinction, a lot.

I’m traveling for work right now, which is why you may be noticing shorter than usual posts. But stay tuned because I’ll be making a big announcement later this week on the blog.

Marketing guru Seth Godin recently published this value triangle on his blog:

No matter what business you’re in, it’s worth giving some thought to this. What do you offer?

At the bottom of the triangle is function. A hotel room functions as a place to sleep. A smartphone functions as a device to make calls, send text messages, and download some apps. A condominium functions as a place to live, eat, sleep, have sex, and so on. But all functions being equal, most of us will buy whatever product is the cheapest.

That is until there’s an emotional connection. I love the way Seth frames it: “Where do people like me do things like this?” It is about defining who you are. Am I the kind of person who buys A or am I the kind of person who buys B? If I care deeply about the environment and B promises to respect that, I am likely to buy B.

But then, moving even further up the triangle, if two items offer the same function and the same emotional connection, many of us will go for the one that appears sexier, shinier (the new iPhone 7 is very shiny), and more stylish. It just deepens the connection.

Finally, at the very top of the triangle is now. This is about scarcity. What’s hot right now? Think of that new restaurant that just opened downtown that you haven’t been able to get a table at. It’s now and you want to Instagram the food so badly so that you can show everyone you were there. You want to be now.

The point of all of this is that we consume things for reasons that go well beyond simple function. That’s just the start of it all. One could argue that all of this is simply smoke and mirrors, but that’s a topic for another blog post. This is our reality.

To relate this topic back to architecture and real estate, I am curious how many of you have made a housing decision that you believe went beyond function. How much of it was based on connection and style?

Not surprisingly, for me, architecture and design matter a great deal.

Earlier this summer I was driving around the city with my father and he was pointing out to me all of the new build single family homes that were sprouting up. He then asked me what I thought of them. I responded: “They’re shit.”

What I was really saying with that glib remark was that those homes – no matter how expensive – didn’t reflect my own belief system about the world. Sure they served their function, but they didn’t offer the connection and style that “people like me” like to praise. To borrow once again from Seth: we are all part of a certain tribe.

What tribe do you belong to? And does your housing choice reflect that?

Here is a good follow-up to yesterday’s post about Ian Schrager and Edition Hotels. It’s a short post by Seth Godin that I’m going to reblog here in full:

The gulf between “risky” and “feels risky” is huge. And it’s getting bigger.

It turns out that value creation lives in this gap. The things that most people won’t do (because it feels risky) that are in fact not risky at all.

If your compass for forward motion involves avoiding things that feel risky, it pays to get significantly better informed about what actually is risky.

I like this distinction, a lot.

I’m traveling for work right now, which is why you may be noticing shorter than usual posts. But stay tuned because I’ll be making a big announcement later this week on the blog.

Marketing guru Seth Godin recently published this value triangle on his blog:

No matter what business you’re in, it’s worth giving some thought to this. What do you offer?

At the bottom of the triangle is function. A hotel room functions as a place to sleep. A smartphone functions as a device to make calls, send text messages, and download some apps. A condominium functions as a place to live, eat, sleep, have sex, and so on. But all functions being equal, most of us will buy whatever product is the cheapest.

That is until there’s an emotional connection. I love the way Seth frames it: “Where do people like me do things like this?” It is about defining who you are. Am I the kind of person who buys A or am I the kind of person who buys B? If I care deeply about the environment and B promises to respect that, I am likely to buy B.

But then, moving even further up the triangle, if two items offer the same function and the same emotional connection, many of us will go for the one that appears sexier, shinier (the new iPhone 7 is very shiny), and more stylish. It just deepens the connection.

Finally, at the very top of the triangle is now. This is about scarcity. What’s hot right now? Think of that new restaurant that just opened downtown that you haven’t been able to get a table at. It’s now and you want to Instagram the food so badly so that you can show everyone you were there. You want to be now.

The point of all of this is that we consume things for reasons that go well beyond simple function. That’s just the start of it all. One could argue that all of this is simply smoke and mirrors, but that’s a topic for another blog post. This is our reality.

To relate this topic back to architecture and real estate, I am curious how many of you have made a housing decision that you believe went beyond function. How much of it was based on connection and style?

Not surprisingly, for me, architecture and design matter a great deal.

Earlier this summer I was driving around the city with my father and he was pointing out to me all of the new build single family homes that were sprouting up. He then asked me what I thought of them. I responded: “They’re shit.”

What I was really saying with that glib remark was that those homes – no matter how expensive – didn’t reflect my own belief system about the world. Sure they served their function, but they didn’t offer the connection and style that “people like me” like to praise. To borrow once again from Seth: we are all part of a certain tribe.

What tribe do you belong to? And does your housing choice reflect that?