What makes a city great? Toward a hierarchy of urban needs

April 3, 2014

A few years ago I created a conceptual model of national needs, shown below, based on Maslow’s hierarchy of (personal) needs. It has become one of the most read posts on this blog, indicating that our identification with both nations and Maslow’s framework both continue to resonate today, decades after their creation.

Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs

Some context: Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, for individuals

Of course, it is difficult to map the idea of progressive needs of an individual cleanly to a political entity. Nations, like people, continue to evolve, and the role of nations in the world is changing too. Nonetheless, the idea of a hierarchy, in which basic needs must be satisfied before one can progress to a higher level of actualization and fulfilling one’s whole potential, can be applied to countries in various stages of development.

Since writing my National Needs post in 2010, a new country was created in South Sudan. It is still struggling (as indeed are many other nations) with the lowest level of securing territorial integrity and peaceful borders, and this remains its primary focus. The struggle for survival must come before feelings of security, esteem and morality.

Exon's Hierarchy of National Needs (Click for a larger version)

Exon [Smith]’s Hierarchy of National Needs, c. 2010 (Click for a larger version)

Yet there are other geographical entities with which we commonly identify, and which are becoming more and more important as centres of culture and economy as a greater percentage of the world’s population moves into them: cities. It is estimated that for the first time in human history, more people live in urban areas than outside of them, and cities are becoming important political players in their own right.

Since moving to California in late 2013 (and spending a lot of time on the Atlantic Cities channel), I have been thinking about how fundamentally important cities are. What makes them truly great? What makes them “cities” at all, in a sense apart from the obvious population requirements? For example, I live in San Jose, which is the third largest city in California, ahead of San Francisco in both population and area, and yet its own inhabitants curiously refer to San Francisco as “the city.” Why? What has to happen for a place to transform into a world-class city from a mere urban area?

So, as I am wont to do, I created a new model to explore the needs of a city, also along the lines of Maslow. I’m calling it the “Hierarchy of Urban Needs.” Note that I am assuming that this city exists within the context of a nation that ensures the rights and privileges of, as well as general governance over, its citizens.  Some discussion of the stages is below.

hierarchy1.pdf.001

Exon Smith’s hierarchy of urban needs (Click for a larger version)

Basic services 

At the most fundamental level, cities need key services delivered in an efficient and cost-effective way. (This is true even if such services aren’t necessarily paid for by the cities themselves, as is the case with, say, healthcare in Canadian cities.) This includes fire, police, and ambulance services; waste management; housing inspections to ensure both safety and affordability of housing; water treatment, and the like. For many cities, this means being able to control the tax base and be able to levy taxes on the population as necessary.

World-class cities will also have exceptional healthcare options and a focus on sustainability woven through even these fundamentals, such as extensive recycling and compost programs. San Francisco, for example, deploys teams to examine what its residents recycle properly and what they don’t so the city can mount better educational campaigns.

Of course, the basic running of the city must be free of corruption, and be able to pay its bills so it avoids a Detroit-like bankruptcy claim, or the succession of mayors Montreal has recently had.

Infrastructure

Historically, cities developed around major ports and, later, railway depots. Even today, no major cities exist without some kind of harbour, airport, train station or freeway linking them with the outside world. Inter-city transportation, undergirded by solid infrastructure, is a critical component of economic progress.

Cities with poor transit are at a huge disadvantage. Jakarta, a city of nearly ten million people, and the largest city of its size with no metro of any kind, has notoriously been working on an underground transit network for 20 years. Traffic congestion is thought to cost the city $1 billion a year. In another cautionary tale, it can take 12 hours to travel 40 miles in Lagos, Nigeria, and the way is fraught with crime and other dangers, a threat to legitimate trade.

Intra-city transportation is also a key factor, and how best to support the movement of people within a city is a subject of almost universal debate. Subways vs. light rail, bike lanes vs. car lanes, pedestrian-only roads and congestion pricing – these are major issues for all cities, and the thinking on public transportation keeps evolving.

This is one area in which San Jose currently struggles but has big plans for the future. My theory is that older cities, built before car use was predominant, have an easier time planning for pedestrian and bike access. Those (like San Jose) that were built after the advent of freeways and a Cadillac for every nuclear family tend to struggle to retrofit density in the downtown core when its points of interest are already quite far-flung.

And yet. San Jose is a critical location for high-speed rail between Los Angeles and San Francisco, as well as a hub for transportation around the San Francisco Bay (linking to San Francisco and Oakland), and has reserved space downtown for new transit links. It is planning for increased density to accompany the new transportation. Hopefully use of public transportation within city limits will also increase, because at the moment the city is hugely dependent on the car. Inefficient public transit routes poorly serve the population, resulting in, for example, 78% (!) of San Jose commuters travelling to work in single-occupancy vehicles.

Central Park

Infrastructure also includes sewers and other large-scale public works, including parks and other green space. More and more research indicates that green spaces make for happier communities, and many major cities can be identified by their parks alone (e.g. Central Park, Golden Gate Park, Bois du Boulogne, Sanjay Gandhi National Park). As I’ve said before, I love sewers, water mains and bridges, personally, and think more campaigns should be fought around securing funding for them. The recent, tragic gas explosion in Harlem only underlines the need to think the way the Victorians did about how cities really run and how we can leave a legacy for the future that is perhaps not glamourous, but that is critically important. One of Toronto’s great strengths, as is the case in many other cities, is the numerous cranes on the skyline building new architectural wonders (as well as a few duds). Would that we could focus on what lies beneath the soil as well.

A brief interlude on mayors…

Thinking about these lower levels of needs, it strikes me that the level of a city’s discourse (and thus position on this hierarchy) can often be seen through the lens of its mayoral elections. Toronto’s 2010 (as most likely will its 2014) election centered on the issues of transportation and waste in providing city services, leaving little room for discussion of higher-order issues (such as, ahem, drug use among elected officials). New York’s 2013 election, in which Bill de Blasio won almost three quarters of the votes, turned largely on issues of income inequality and pre-kindergarden education, the next level in my hierarchy. And the major issues of London’s 2012 election, won by incumbent Boris Johnson and his hair, were the economy, tackling crime, public transportation, and affordable housing.

Boris, Campaigning on Transit

Boris: Campaigning on Transit

It makes sense that the basics need to be taken care of, and continually improved upon, before a successful cultural scene can take root, in the same way that humans must be fed and watered, feel physically and emotionally safe, and feel a sense of belonging before they can achieve self-actualization.

…and then back to the hierarchy: Educational and research institutions

A strong educational foundation at every level is critical, and a well-educated population requires relative equality in the quality of schools. This is one of the main reasons cities should not fund their schools through neighbourhood taxes (and thus subject schools to the vagaries of house prices), as many cities in the United States do.  A well-educated citizenry contributes more to the economy than a poorly-educated one.

The presence of leading research and teaching institutions draws in talent and sows the seeds of innovation, which is why “cluster economies” such as Silicon Valley are the next big thing, because they focus research and development into localities with populations educated enough to feed them with employees. Every one of the world’s greatest cities has a leading university at its heart, without exception – this cannot be a coincidence.

Diversity is the key here. Cities built around just one industry are like monocultures: potentially dominant for a short while, but vulnerable to disastrous decline. Take any of the grand old cities in the Rust Belt: Buffalo, for example, was one of America’s greatest cities one hundred years ago, built on a strong grain-milling and shipping/railroad industry. After almost a century of decline, it is, well, no longer great – but it has managed to slow the decline by diversifying into the education and medical fields. Glasgow, once the premier city of Scotland, faced a similar decline due to its emphasis on a resource-based economy and de-emphasis on education.

Robust arts, sports and cultural scene

This stage is where the jump occurs from a merely livable city to one that is great. A safe, well-run, working city is lovely, but a city with a thriving cultural scene is one to fall in love with. In fact, social offerings, a broad category encompassing art, music, sport, religion and other community activities, are among the most significant contributing factors to residents’ feelings of attachment to their community. This is even above security or the state of the economy.

This stage of course includes both major municipal institutions such as museums, symphonies and ballets, but also spontaneous or smaller-scale, citizen-led activities. Being able to participate in a Sing-A-Long Messiah or see an independent movie at a film festival is as important as having the Bolshoi nearby, and also makes the arts more accessible to a wider population. Having Old Trafford around the corner is great, but so is the local curling league.

Doha’s Museum of Islamic Art

 

An arts and culture scene, moreover, is a key driver of tourism, which in turn feeds the economy on general feeling of being in a place worth being. (Just imagine Paris without the Louvre, or New York without the Empire State Building.) Older cities naturally have an advantage here because of the in-built history in ancient cathedrals, palaces or public art, but some newer cities have benefited by investing heavily in creating an arts scene. Doha, once little more than an oily afterthought, is planning for the time when its resources run out by creating a strong film industry and thriving place for modern art. It is also newly host to a major international economic forum, and will host the 2022 World Cup. (Probably.)

Openness to influence; becoming a symbolic beacon

Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free !

These words adorn the base of the Statue of Liberty  and represent what I have spoken of before, being a city of the imagination. These cities are the subject of books, films, Broadway musicals, and countless daydreams, and have a romance and level of impact that serves to draw people to them, for a visit or for good.

These cities, in turn, receive their tourists and immigrants in a more or less accommodating way, taking from them the best of their cultures and using that to strengthen and further diversify the metropolis. Cuzco, Islamic Seville, and the Florence of the Medici were all historical examples of the power of such “mixing bowls” of culture: out of their cultural milieu came the starting point for a massive empire, the Golden Age of exploration, and the Uffizi Gallery. Modern equivalents spring to mind precisely because they have this pull on our hearts and minds.

The last two levels of the hierarchy are quite iterative: the greater the cultural scene and economy, the greater draw a city has for immigrants, who then enrich the culture further. It is difficult to find a world-class city without a large percentage of immigrants, who bring with them new traditions, great ideas, ambition, and excellent food. It is in fact difficult to overestimate the importance – both historically and in the present day – of immigrants to cities’ successes, which is why openness to influence and disruption may be the most important trait a city can have.

 

So there’s the model. I’d love to hear your thoughts!

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Greater Understanding but Less Choice? The Decline of Free Will

March 18, 2014

Every human’s behaviour is constrained. Legal or social censure, theological or other conceptions of morality, and physical restrictions all affect our agency. The idea of any of us having true free will is contested.

Technology and biological research have just accelerated the debate. For example, in less than six months, you will likely have advertising delivered to your cell phone based on your geographical position. (“Did you know that sweaters are on sale at the Macy’s you just walked past?”) In less than a year, service alerts and other helpful information will likely be added. (“Don’t take King Street on your way home; there is a traffic snarl up by the freeway entrance.”) If you use Google as your primary search engine, you already see only a fraction of all the search results available for your query, because predictive search technology has selected only the ones it thinks will be most relevant to you, based on your location and search history.

If not direct constraints, these are certainly strong determining factors in our behaviour. It’s the world, curated especially for us. Choices are made for us, about what we want, and should do and see, that are continually narrowing our conceptual field of vision. Spontaneity, and serendipity, in an online world where our doings are tracked and analyzed, may be a thing of the past.

Nudge, Nudge

Greater understanding of human brains and decision-making also explain the choices we make, and can be manipulated to affect them. The nudge theory of behaviour – popular with the Obama and Cameron governments, who think of it as a way to combine paternalism and libertarianism – advocates providing incentives to subtly change behaviour toward a more rational course. Give people tax credits for eco-friendly home improvements, and they’re more likely to go with the low-flush toilet and reflective window coating. Place the salad bar in a prominent location closer to the entrance of the cafeteria than the mac ’n’ cheese and you may end up with diners making healthier food choices. There is even a group dedicated to implementing such “nudges” within the UK government.

Recycling bins

Here’s a nudge toward recycling more – in Toronto, recycling and organics bins are free, while larger garbage bins cost more money

Successes claimed by nudge theorists include everything from a reduction in traffic fatalities (on curves where the lines are pained in such a way as to unconsciously encourage drivers to slow down) to less urine in public toilets (where an insect is painted on the men’s urinals to attract attention). And yet nudge theory has come under fire from various libertarian groups, who believe we should at least be aware of having our perception manipulated so it is less of an infringement upon our conscious choices. Some philosophers even argue that free will is not free without knowledge of the potential outcomes from different choices.

And yet, so many of our choices seem to be unconscious. Recent neurological research into what is called “haptic sensation” has inexorably chipped away at any concept of free will we may have had. Studies indicate that holding a warm mug of tea or coffee while interviewing a candidate, or having his/her resume presented on a heavy clipboard, can lead to a more favourable outcome for the interviewee than iced tea and a flimsy page. Soft furniture in a conference room can lead to more harmonious meetings than wooden benches. Sitting in a hot room can amplify anti-social tendencies like aggression.

Similarly, priming female students before math tests to consider their gender results in a much poorer performance than prompting them to consider more positive characteristics, such as their attendance at an elite school. The fear of conforming to gender stereotypes (“women are worse at math than men”) affects performance, in a phenomenon known as “stereotype threat.” The same effect has been shown on test-takers who are members of visible minority groups.

Why bother studying those limit laws when a few spoken words or a poorly placed demographics question before an exam can have significant negative effects?

Who is guilty when nobody is responsible?

Better understanding of human emotions and the human brain has already significantly affected our conception of human accountability and the choices we make. So what happens when everything can be explained away, or rationalized with a new theory of behaviour? The first verdict of “diminished responsibility” paved the way for a trend of exculpatory evidence that now encompasses hundreds of conditions rendering us unaware of, or unable to control, our actions. Everything from brain tumors to hormonal imbalances have been shown to lead to often drastic, out-of-character bevahiour.

This is often where politics draws a line between more conservative advocates for “punishment” and liberal advocates for “rehabilitation” of anti-social behaviours. And free will is an essential part of the argument, mainly because it is often linked with morality. Kant says that actions cannot be moral without being free: if we are not in control of our own actions, how can we choose to be moral or otherwise?

If you fail to slow down where nudging lines have been drawn closer together on the road, are you an unsafe driver, or merely someone on whom the psychological trick didn’t work? Should a manager be sued if he failed to hire the “better” candidate because he was sitting on too firm a chair during the interview? If two medications interact in an unprecedented way and you assault someone, are you culpable?

3d speed bumps

Slow down for the fake speed bumps! Or else?

A middle path

Perhaps there is a way to be somewhat but not entirely responsible. Many people view free will as an illusion, and consider the lack of it as a freeing, positive experience. The well-known atheist writer Sam Harris, who wrote a book on free will in 2012, argues on his blog  that in fact believing in the absence of free will lessens unhelpful emotions like pride and hatred by chalking up a good portion of the cause of our actions to unconscious reflexes and brain chemistry. If we focus less on hating “bad” people for their actions, he argues, we can spend more time meting out appropriate punishments to ensure they do not reoffend. And yet, he still leaves room for persistence, hard work and other actions that enable success and prosperity in the longer term.

The theme of intentional long-term, repetitive choices being a proxy for free will (if not the same thing) jives with another discussion I read researching this post. It mentioned religion, still the prevailing global codification of human morality, as essentially acting in one’s long-term self-interest (that is, ensuring one’s place in heaven). And really, this is what almost all morality comes down to: ensuring the harmonious relations of the species so we don’t all kill each other, couched in terms of individuals keeping those around them happy by not stealing from them, lying to them, killing them, deceiving them, etc. It is enlightened self-interest to foster mutual support networks. In this light, all historical constraints on free will (such as laws) are for “our own good.”

Perhaps the increasing awareness of the restrictions on our consciousness – and manipulations of them – are actually prosocial. Perhaps they, like morality, have given us a way to preserve the real-life networks by encouraging rehabilitation over punishment and understanding over mystery. It is certainly possible that as more behaviours are justified or explained (away), society will become more liberal in meting out criminal “justice”. Many will consider this moral progress.

Will the passage of time and progress of science eventually explain all actions we take? Will we be living in some real-life version of “Minority Report”? Will Google ever be able to know when I need a good game of trivia and be able to tell me where I have the most fun (and win)?

Perhaps – the jury is still out.

I’d be interested in hearing your thoughts in the comments below – do you think free will exists? Does it matter?


The Empire Strikes Back … with Hammers

March 4, 2014

This is a post about curling.

It is also a post about colonialism and the sadness and rhetoric that accompanies the sunset of an empire.

Toward the end of the 2014 Olympics came the men’s curling final, a dramatic showdown between Great Britain and Canada. Watching in Europe, as I was, meant coverage was courtesy of the BBC and commentary by two storied skips from the grand Team GB of yesteryear. (Let’s put aside the fact that, like most British curlers, the commentators and players were all Scottish, because they all displayed a sufficient amount of “national” pride to be considered British. I will get into the whole Scottish nationalism affair later.) The stage was set: the Canadian women had beaten the female British team in the semi-finals and gone on, undefeated, to win the gold medal the day before. There was an enormous amount of pressure from home on the Canadian men to repeat their gold-medal successes of the 2010 and 2006 games. The tension was palpable.

Canada ended up winning a lopsided 9-3 for the gold.

Now, the Canadians were the odds-on favourites in this match. Despite curling being a Scottish sport originally, Canada is its foremost powerhouse nation. Since curling was introduced to the Winter Olympics in Nagano 1998, Canada has won medals in both the women’s and men’s tournaments every time. Only Sweden comes close. This particular team GB was also very good – they have won several World and European Curling Championships – but I doubt many people would have bet on them for the gold.

Our Boys Aren’t Like That

And yet, to listen to the BBC commentary, the victory was Britain’s almost by rights. The callers were making a valiant effort at being neutral at first but later abandoned the impartiality to lament the way the game was going for “our boys.” But what was most fascinating to me, as a student of nationalism and empire, was the language they used. I’ve written before about how the Olympics brings out the very best/worst in our jingoistic selves and allows the media and advertising to fall back on hoary old national tropes (the whole #wearewinter Canadian twitter campaign being just one example – do they not have winter elsewhere?).  But I had never seen this rhetoric play out between former imperial power and its precocious colony before. According to the BBC, the Canadian team was (and please say this with a Scottish accent in your heads, because I assure you it’s better) “a wee bit too aggressive,” “quite loud with their calls” and “not as polite as some of the other teams.” At one point, jokes were made that the Canadians’ shirts were too tight — or perhaps their biceps were too big? It was all just too masculine for Britain! “Our boys aren’t like that.”

 

Canadian curling skip Brad Jacobs: too much muscle mass for Britain!

Canadian curling skip Brad Jacobs: too much muscle mass and yelling for Britain!

 

Uncouth colonies! How dare you go to the gym and yell at the rink and celebrate your victories! It was a distant echo of the accusations that have always been aimed at settlement colonies, like Australia and Canada – and internal colonies, like the untamed “Wild West” within the United States – as justifications for the continuation of central control. Australia, incidentally, has never shaken off its image as the raucous outpost of empire “Down Under.” (Google suggest says: “Why are Australians so…” “Racist? Obnoxious? Violent?” Notably masculine traits, and not in a good way.)

It is odd that the British should still be falling back on this language. Perhaps sport commentary, like holiday foods, preserves tradition longer than the everyday. After all, it is hardly news that the games that originated in the former imperial capitals have since spread around the world and been mastered by foreign nationals to a far greater degree than those in the home country. Golf, a typically Scottish exercise in hitting objects with sticks, has been perfected by Americans like Tiger Woods or Fijians like Vijay Singh. Cricket is now the almost exclusive realm of South Asians. And then of course there is (sigh) soccer, an originally English sport which is now dominated at the international level by South Americans and Southern Europeans, much to my biennial chagrin.

Rugger for the Empire

Perhaps the general British population is now past the point with these sports that they feel they should win, as the original players. But that is patently not the case with every sport. For comparison, I thought a look at another English game – rugby, a product of the Victorian English public school system – would be interesting. Rugby spread about as far as the former settlement colonies of Australia, New Zealand and South Africa (though really not much further, to look at the top teams), and my hypothesis is that British commentary would deem those foreign players rough and aggressive as well. Indeed, a short search of British news outlets finds the formidable NZ All Blacks masters of “thuggery” and the English team still fending off accusations of being hampered by its antiquated class system and uselessness on the pitch. One author, a former English international rugby player, talks about how the “relentless,” “ruthless” All Blacks laughed at him and assaulted his manliness when he twisted his knee, and how a recent match between the Aussies and the All Blacks was “a frightening gauntlet thrown down to all the players in the northern hemisphere.” You can’t make this stuff up.

 

The New Zealand All Blacks: "all things dark and Kiwi"

The New Zealand All Blacks: to the English, “all things dark and Kiwi”

 

It is competitive and familiar and has overtones of parent-child conflict. This same language was appropriated by the colonies themselves to justify their independence from Mother England: “You’re right: we are stronger and healthier and more willing to get our hands dirty, so we’ll have that control of our own government now, thank you.” Canada and Australia in particular used the physical superiority of their young men as indications that the centres of empire should shift to these places where willing hands were stronger at carrying its mission forth. As one former Canadian Governor General once said, “It is in climates and countries where the white man may multiply…that we must look for the strongest elements of Empire, and it is only at the Cape of Good Hope, in British North America, and in Australasia that we find these conditions realized.” And so it was that British men became stereotyped as effete weaklings more interested in their cravats than the serious business of governing a plurality of the world’s population.

And we’re still talking about it, a century later.

Hammer Time

In curling, the team that gets to throw the last stone (and has the opportunity to win points) in each end has the “hammer.” At the moment, the imperial hammer lies with the United States. And yet, Olympic jingoism was muted this year in the US, with various news outlets decrying the “step back” from previous triumphs, with fewer medals and some surprise podium shut-outs. Much national hand-wringing and poor sportsmanship ensued, perhaps signs of an empire uncertain of its own strength.

A sign of decline? Stay tuned for accusations of China’s uncouth aggression.

Oh wait…

US News Reports of Chinese Aggression

US News Reports of Chinese Aggression


The Brands That Still Matter

February 13, 2014

Dannon Oikos’s nostalgic Superbowl spot was a great advertisement for both the French multinational and its new yogurt product.

But will knowing Oikos is a Dannon product make consumers want to purchase it? Or will they turn instead to nutritional count, pro-biotic content, or price to make their decision? How strong is this brand?

How strong, these days, is any brand?

What I need right now is some good advice

Well, it depends. An excellent piece in the New Yorker this week explores “the end of brand loyalty” and whether this spells the decline of an age in which brands were useful shorthands for purchasing everything from baked beans to luxury sedans. In an era in which the customer review is king, all companies must compete product by product, it says, even established giants. The field is open for upstarts and smaller rivals who can win over a market on the strength of a single, well-reviewed product.

It’s easier than ever for young companies to establish a foothold with a signature product: think Crocs, which have expanded from those foam clogs to flip flops and winter gear, creating a whole new hideous/comfortable footwear market. What propelled Crocs to fame was the strength of customer testimonials saying that it really was worth the price and the look to get that level of comfort.

The same trends that allowed Crocs to happen also signal the decline of major brands. When we have so much information at the click of a button, the promise of a consistent level of quality – which is really all a brand is – becomes less important than the fact – actual product reviews. Why trust a company to make things you know you’ll love when you can trust other users to tell you their opinions instead? It’s true: the level of trust in a product’s brand as a shorthand for making a good purchasing decision is at its nadir.

However, the decline of product brands has led to the rise in service brands, particularly those giving advice. Booking a holiday? The competition for who gives the best advice on hotels, restaurants and attractions seems to have been decisively won by TripAdvisor. Purchasing a book? Bypass the publishing house and read the reviews on Amazon, and then let the site recommend a choice for you. Looking for a good movie? Hardly anybody makes decisions about movies based on the studios that produce them, but Netflix can tell you what to watch based on what you’ve seen before.

These are all Internet-based examples, because the advice industry has moved online for the most part, but brick-and-mortar service brands have also maintained their strength amid the fall of brand loyalty for products. Banks are an example of organizations that are judged based on the selection of products they have curated for their customers, but more importantly how they advise their clients, particularly in the higher end, higher-margin businesses of wealth management and institutional and corporate banking. Consulting firms continue to prosper through economic slowdowns because they can advise on both growing revenue (in good economic climates) and streamlining expenses (in bad). And it all began with things like Consumer Reports, J.D. Power, and other ranking agencies who built their reputations upon being the ones who choose the products that matter, and whose advice you can trust.

The service brand becomes personal

Those who host the platforms that enable others to recommend products – the information aggregators and analysts – are poised to be the big winners of the near economic future. And this extends to individuals as well, which explains the push in the last ten years to develop “personal brands.” I’ve written before about how this makes many feel a bit icky, and yet if we think of skills as “products,” and analytical ability as “service,” it makes sense to have a personal brand that emphasizes how you think and relate to others as opposed to what you know. (This is why most personal brands focus on a combination of attitude and experience, e.g. Oprah’s signature empathy which resulted from her life experiences.)

Skills can be learned and degrees earned by many individuals, just like many companies can manufacture clothing. They are interchangeable. But proof of being able to think well, in the form of awards, complementary experiences, and attitudes, expressed through a self-aware brand, is unique.

This is likely why LinkedIn has moved to a model that goes beyond listing skills and abilities to providing references (“recommendations” and “endorsements”) to indicate past performance, and “followers” to show how popular one’s ideas are. These serve the exact same function as the ranking and number of reviews a destination has on TripAdvisor.

No doubt this has contributed to the large number of individuals wanting to strike out on their own. At a recent networking meeting I attended, 100% of attendees were looking to become independent personal nutritionists, career or life coaches, or consultants. They weren’t wanting to sell things, they wanted to sell themselves and their advice.

A strong brand – a personal one – is essential for this kind of career change, and part of creating a strong brand is ensuring consistency. Working for an organization whose values don’t align with yours – even if you are doing the same thing you’d want to do independently – is a brand mis-match.

All of this highlights another key similarity to traditional product brands: service brands, once established, have a grip on market share. Most companies would prefer to have an accountant at an established firm do their taxes over a sole proprietor. TripAdvisor has few competitors in the travel advice industry, which is why travel agencies are faring so poorly. The barriers to entry are high and name recognition and brand still counts for a lot.

My advice to newcomers: time to call up Uncle Jesse to make an ad for you and get some brand recognition.


Nations of Extroverts and the Friendliness of Americans

February 3, 2014

Picture this: a bus full of people, mid-day on a Tuesday. A passenger with a seeing-eye dog chatters away about her experiences to the lady beside her, who also has a dog. She then asks a family visiting from Italy what sights they have seen in the area. Further back, two men joke about how their knees are too old to bend sufficiently to fit into the seats. When one gets off the bus, he shakes the other’s hand, saying “Pleasure to meet you!” An elderly couple asks a young, pregnant woman about her children and say “God Bless!” to every passenger that exits the bus.

This is a typical bus ride in San José, at least in my experience riding public transit. Far from scowling at the lack of elbow room, passengers seem to use their proximity to other travellers as an excuse to strike up a new friendship, or at least pleasant conversation for the duration of the ride. On my way back from a book club once, a man told me about his opinion of every Margaret Atwood, Alice Munro, and Michael Ondaatje book he’d read after finding out I was a recent transplant from Canada.

It’s all very unusual for me, and left me wondering: why are Americans so friendly? Several transplants I know from Europe think it must be false, that a waitress in a restaurant can’t genuinely care whether you liked your cajun pasta or had a good day – but is it?

To get a sense of whether there might be a national character at all, and if that might explain my transit experiences, I looked into what is often referred to by psychologists as the “Big 5 Inventory” personality test, or “five-factor model,” which measures the following traits:

  • Openness to experience
  • Conscientiousness
  • Extroversion
  • Agreeableness
  • Neuroticism

My hypothesis was that Americans might, on a stereotypical, national level, score highly on the extroversion and agreeableness scales. Many have noted that at least two thirds of Americans are extroverted (see, for example, Susan Cain’s excellent book and TED talk on Introversion), and high levels of extroversion have also been correlated with traits such as assertiveness and individualism, other behaviours oft noted as common to Americans.

I wasn’t the first to have this idea. I recommend watching this short video, which maps out the Big 5 by nation:

It’s a fascinating study, and largely confirms that Americans are likely to be, on average, more extroverted than people from other nations, and more agreeable. They are also more calm and “hardy” than the average, and able to withstand setbacks, and are extraordinarily conscientious and disciplined.   These would all seem to be important traits for immigrants seeking to build new lives and a new nation.

The French, to take a comparison, are among the most introverted nations on the map. They also tend toward disagreeableness and prefer stability and routine to variety and new experiences. (Interestingly, they are very organized and conscientious, even more so than their German neighbours, which may surprise some in European politics.) An individual with these traits would undoubtedly find the can-do friendliness of the stereotypical American quite unpleasant, and the American, in his turn, would find the reserved Frenchman similar to the fellow below (which I found while searching for “American perceptions of French people”):

Image

It would also seem that my experiences in Argentina were not abnormal: Argentines, according to this video, also tend to be disagreeable, yet quite calm and emotionally stable, enjoying variety. This would explain the tendency we noticed to shrug in an irate fashion and bemoan the state of the economy with no expectation of it changing, then stomp off to dance a tango.

It may also be possible to explain the friendliness of Americans as a lack of the formality and respect for hierarchy that characterizes many Old World nations. There is no easy correlation with any one five-factor model trait here, but it would make sense that a society founded on principles of extreme meritocracy would support individuals bypassing the usual deferences common to aristocracy and other Old World power structures. If all men are created equal, why not say hello to those tourists on the bus?

A side note

Their friendliness doesn’t spare Americans the derision of the world in other areas. Keying in “why are Americans so…” into a search box does not yield very friendly autofill results: “stupid” and “ignorant” are the most common hits.

This perception might also be explained by the Big 5 model. In the “Openness to Experience” dimension, Americans score at a fairly average level. Examples of this trait include being “intellectually curious, open to emotion, interested in art, and willing to try new things.” (Denmark scores highest on this trait. Might explain Lego, The Little Mermaid, and vikings.)

Certainly, Americans are inventive and curious. However, many have also noted a national pride that can extend to an inward focus, a lack of interest in or awareness of the world outside its borders. The persistent and oft-debated data point of fewer than a third of Americans having passports would support an argument for isolationism.

Why bother to travel, though, if everyone will only respond to their friendly overtures with disagreeableness and scorn? Fortunately, there is a place where, according to this map, the locals are even more friendly, sympathetic, and kind, perhaps so much so that they’re willing to forgive some old bad blood and show American tourists around…

Russia.

Have fun at Sochi.


Sparkling Water or Water Lilies? The Comfort vs. Beauty Problem

January 29, 2014

First things first: posthistorical is back! I am very excited to be blogging again. The world seems much the same: Obama, Harper, and Merkel have won more elections; politicians everywhere squabble over ridiculously trivial things and generally accomplish nothing; we collectively still spend way too much time on facebook. And yet much has changed: this blogger now lives in the Golden State instead of the True North Strong and Free, and with a government-enforced sabbatical now has a lot fewer excuses not to post frequently.

It’s also 4 years (ish) since I started posting on this blog, and that means the exciting quadrennial spectacle of nationalism that got many of my juices flowing last time (otherwise known as the Winter Olympics) will soon be upon us. Once more, in Russian! More to come.

But first!

A dichotomy for the ages

One of the things that started me on blogging again was a rush of ideas I encountered while re-reading Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World for a book club meeting. I will likely tease out a number of themes and their repercussions in the modern world in future posts, but the one that resonated most strongly with me was the dichotomy that one of the book’s main characters presents between truth & beauty and comfort & happiness. To have beauty and truth, he reasons, one needs to endure political and emotional instability, heartbreak, misery and terror – basically, opportunities to show mercy, wisdom and courage in the face of overwhelmingly bad odds. Happy and comfortable people have no need to rise above their situations in such a manner.

But who would choose discomfort and misery, given the choice?

The general trend of world history has been toward comfort, both in a material way and in the sense of social stability. If the nineteenth century was the century of engineering and industry, the twentieth century was the century of comfort. It was the century of spandex, widespread air conditioning and La-Z-Boy. More people than ever before were lifted out of poverty, and industrialization led to middle-class (or relative middle-class) comfort worldwide.

The number of people who choose sneakers over high heels or jeans and t-shirts over Little Lord Fauntleroy suits seems to back up comfort’s victory over beauty. And from the range of falsehoods – from “spin” to blatant lies – evident in government, advertising and many other areas, truth doesn’t seem to do very well either.

Have we already made the choice? And if so, is this progress?

The truth/beauty vs. happiness/comfort dichotomy mirrors the idea of moral vs. technological progress. Some thinkers, such as John Gray, whose anti-humanist work Straw Dogs I’ve written about before, believe that technological progress is in theory limitless, but that our moral progress as humans is essentially stalled. Nuclear technology, to use an example he gave, while a huge technological boon that can supply power to millions, has simultaneously allowed us to wipe cities off the map, a more efficient killing machine than had ever been known before.

Systematic discrimination

Perhaps truth and beauty – or moral progress, if we can equate the two – have seemingly lost out to comfort and happiness – technological progress – because the large-scale systems that largely control our lives have focused mainly on them. Take governments: funding for truth and beauty (whatever that would look like) will almost always come second to funding for hospitals, police, and even infrastructure – that is, the necessary building blocks for a comfortable life. The Brave New World character I mentioned earlier also points out that rule of the people leads to an emphasis on comfort and happiness over truth and beauty – certainly, this is the credo of America, “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,” not, incidentally the pursuit of truth. Comfort, or at least freedom from harm and repression, was the first priority of the revolutionaries.

I went back to examine some other modern revolutionaries. Re-reading The Communist Manifesto, I discovered that the aims of Communism also begin with comfort before proceeding to truth, even if the ideals contained within the movement are based on so-called universal truths. Guaranteeing subsistence was the first step, through a radical change in property rights, the tax system, etc. followed by universal education (i.e., the pursuit of truth and beauty).

The other large system that governs our lives, free market capitalism, is also geared toward profits that can more easily be made from comfort than beauty.  This is why Proctor & Gamble, who sell deodorant and diapers, made $US 81 billion in 2013, and the New York Times, winner of more Pulitzer prizes than any other newspaper, struggles each quarter to make a profit. Perhaps this also explains the existence of the phrase “starving artist.”

First things first

There may be a way to see a positive outcome in this. Perhaps it is not so much a dichotomy between truth/beauty and comfort/happiness, as a ladder, or hierarchy, if you will. Perhaps, like ol’ Maslow said, we focus first on satiating the need for food, clean water and safety before striving for self-actualization.

Now, we all know how much I love Maslow (and so does everyone else, apparently, because this is by far my most read post). But this theory would disagree with Huxley’s characters, who imagine that it is either a comfortable, drugged out existence devoid of anything so confusing and challenging as truth, OR starving artists capitalizing on their misery and discomfort by creating beauty, that is, skipping straight to the top of the hierarchy.

I posit this theory: those who can truly move to the self-actualization stage can only do so because they feel their more basic needs have already been met. This is true even though they live in the same world as those more susceptible to advertising campaigns which introduce needs we never knew we had (for the new iPhone, elective rhinoplasty, or gluten-free dog food, for example). Maybe it’s just that those seeking truth and beauty seem deprived and miserable to those who couldn’t imagine taking their places.

Our need for comfort will stay the same as our definition of comfort changes; perhaps those who can be comfortable enough already, without soma and shiny new things, can have their truth/beauty cake and eat it too – happily.


Academia Shrugged? or, Why You Should Just Quit Your Ph.D. Now

July 27, 2011

Grad school and academia as a potential career have taken a real beating in the media lately. It seems the world has finally woken up and smelled the (three-day old, re-used) coffee beans that are all grad students can afford. The bottom line is that humanities students should run, not walk, away from a life of debt and uncertainty, and a “dream job” that will never quite pan out.

In an article for Slate.com, William Pannapacker, himself a professor at a liberal arts college, proposes a few steps to fix graduate school in the humanities. Some of what he advises – such as providing networking opportunities and internships, and recognizing that it may be better to keep one’s passion for obscure fields of study as a hobby – is similar to what I proposed in my own post on a Three-Pronged Approach to Saving Humanities Departments.

But I was really intrigued by his addition of a final, “nuclear option”: quit. In his words:

Just walk away. Do not let your irrational love for the humanities make you vulnerable to ongoing exploitation. Do not remain a captive to dubious promises about future rewards. Cut your losses, now. Accumulate work experiences and contacts that will enable you to support yourself, have health coverage, and something like a normal life. Even the more privileged students I mentioned earlier—and the ones who are not seeking traditional employment—could do a lot of good by refusing to support the current academic labor system. It exists because so many of us who care about the humanities and higher education in a sincere, idealistic way have been passively complicit with the destruction of both. You don’t have to return to school this fall, but the academic labor system depends on it.

Wow. A group of highly intelligent, capable individuals upon whom “the system” depends but who are scorned by it decide one day to “go on strike” in the hopes of seeing said system implode and leave behind a twitching lump of ingrates suddenly begging them to return and save them.

This sounds familiar. Where did I read about that recently? Oh, yes – in Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand’s infamous treatise on objectivism. In it, the heroes grapple with their own superior morality in a world of incompetent ingrates and eventually come to realize they are complicit in the very system that condemns them for their unchecked ambition and capitalistic greed. (Of course, unchecked ambition and capitalistic greed are positive attributes in Rand’s heroes.) So, one by one, they go on strike by withdrawing to a hidden, magical place where labour is justly rewarded, and nobody ever gives anybody anything they haven’t worked for, while they watch the world crumbling around them without their input.

(There, I’ve saved you from slogging through 1000+ pages of libertarian/objectivist bluster that would probably outrage and offend anyone who believes in silly things like equality of opportunity and altruism.)

But putting aside the absurd pairing of tweed-jacketed academics and Wall Street “fat cats,” let’s think a minute about the implications of this Randian proposition for academics. Would it work? As Pannapacker points out, there is always the possibility of having a day job with health care and indulging in one’s “irrational love for the humanities” as a hobby. As he says, “more and more people are learning [that] universities do not have a monopoly on the ‘life of the mind.’”

Maybe. But I think universities should at least have a competitive edge on it, or else they stand to become exactly what vocationalists want them to be: training for jobs that exist today and have clear mandates and required preparation. This would certainly be the case if all the most brilliant liberal arts minds suddenly decided to be brilliant elsewhere in the world.

Because if not universities, then where? Will we have to start paying people to hear about their ideas? Will we have the same level of interaction if everyone is decentralized and off thinking interesting thoughts in different industries? How will we prepare people to think innovatively, and prepare them for the jobs of tomorrow that don’t have clear mandates or preparatory courses?

The whole point of a university is that it is a hub, a place a little apart from the rest of the world (yes, perhaps even an ivory tower) where people can reflect on the “big questions” that may not be directly related to the pressing fads of the moment. What happens when this education becomes more decentralized? Can we trust that individuals will independently seek out all of the different perspectives they’re likely to get in an undergraduate humanities course?

I reflect on what Stanley Fish wrote in the New York Times a few weeks ago: basically, that academics, and by extension universities, should just abandon trying to be relevant and focus instead on academic inquiry for the sake of it alone. I think that would be unwise. Knowledge for the sake of knowledge is a great thing, and we need independent places (i.e. not ones funded by corporations) that will ensure that people continue to seek it. But relevance is important too, and while it should not be the only goal, it needs to be a goal.

In short, the current academic system needs to be refined from within, not by walking away and shrugging off all its problems. (Besides, academic types don’t have a magical land in Colorado where we can retreat and live out our ideals of hard work and free love and no taxes.) Professors and administrators could start with being honest about the reality of life as a grad student, i.e. mostly unemployed without the health coverage Pannapacker so enjoys having. And they should stop denigrating non-academic career choices by framing them as a continuation on the path of intelligent, creative thinking, not a deviation from it.

And then we – all of us – can start changing the way we view “amateur” non-academics outside the system, and invite them in. Let’s not exclude people with insider jargon and inaccessible writing. Let’s make a place inside the ivory tower for people who think about the “big questions” of life outside of it, so we can examine the practical implications of our ideas. Let’s show the vocationalists that “academic” is not a dirty word but one that can bring significant insight and positive change to the world outside universities, as well as in its libraries.

Let’s ask people to help us hold up the world, instead of just dropping it.