Great cities are weird. That’s why they’re great.

Cities like Ottawa need to cultivate weirdness. Not weed it out!

A story in yesterday’s Ottawa Citizen got the Differ really angry. Angry enough to.. wait for it… start a Facebook page! Seems an Ottawa bus driver named Yves Roy has made himself into a minor cult celebrity around town by singing behind the wheel. And it seems that after years of at worst allowing, and at best praising Roy for his singing, the management at OC Transpo have decided to “play it safe”. We Beg to Differ.

“Boring” is the weed. Weird is the fruit.

When I used to travel the world as a brand evangelist in the software industry, I got a chance to see a lot of cities. And among them, I had to see way too much of the big three Texas cities. Sorry Texas. But Dallas/Forth Worth, Houston, and San Antonio are not my favourite places to visit. At all. They’re big. They’re nice-ish. I met nice people. But they never made me say “wow”. And what’s worse, they never gave me a story to tell.

Which is why it was so refreshing  to find a little weirdo sitting in the middle of all of them: Austin. It’s a city of about 800,000 – roughly the same size as my home town of Ottawa – and like Ottawa, it’s a capital city, so lots of government workers and bureaucentrism. But what’s nice is that the folks in Austin are fiercely proud of its weirdness – even going so far as to brand a movement to “Keep Austin Weird“.

And I’ll tell you, all around the world, the cities that are the most impressive, the most memorable, and the most energetic, are also the weirdest ones. Great cities throw you into weird, quirky, even unsettling situations, but they always give you a story to tell.

Which brings us back to the singing bus driver

Yves Roy.

The bureaucratic smack-down of the singing bus driver came in the same week that OC Transpo is dealing with nasty public reaction to YouTube videos of a bus driver apparently shouting obscenities at a handicapped passenger and talking on a cellphone on the highway.

And yes, there are complaints. Weirdness always causes complaints. And sure, it can be annoying. As David Reevely writes:

I’ve been on Roy’s bus, in a sour mood after a bad day, and I dearly wished he would shutupshutupSHUTUP! so I could have a moment’s peace while I stared out the window and tried not to think about anything. And I’ve been on Roy’s bus in a better frame of mind and loved every bar, and also loving that I lived in a city that could produce this guy. Both attitudes are reasonable: it’s not fair to force passengers to listen to music they don’t want to hear, and yet at the same time Yves Roy is awesome.

He ends his article by concluding that asking him to stop “is definitely the safe thing to do.” Yup. Safe it is. Smart? Not if you want to build a city that people want to tell stories about.

So here’s my suggestion to the mayor

Yes that means you Jim Watson. Turn this into a positive story of city-building weirdness.

  1. Pass a motion in council to create an “Ottawa Super Awesomeness Award” (or whatever you want to call it).
  2. Create a policy with OC Transpo that bus drivers are not permitted to sing unless they have been given the aforementioned award.
  3. Give Yves Roy the award and make a big deal about celebrating Ottawa’s famous (and only) Singing Bus Driver.
  4. Get him to sing the national anthem in Council, and try to arrange having him sing at a Senators game, the National Capital Marathon, or other big events.

Voila. Problem solved. Yves Roy is celebrated as the quirky stand-out he is. OC Transpo gets a policy to make sure not every bus driver with a tin ear decides to do the same.

And Ottawa gets one more weirdo icon to call its own.

Oh, and one more thing Mr. Mayor. Please do “LIKE” the Facebook page while you’re here. Every bit helps.

Baptists on a bridge: when differentiation kills

Can’t we all get along? Nope. Here’s why.

Last week we chronicled a Twitter “cage match” between Social Media gurus Dan Zarrella and Jason Falls – two guys in the same industry who speak at the same conferences, ed and even hang out together. On the surface, find not that different. But yet, sale they found a reason to have a public and at times personal, argument over what might seem to be a small semantic point: the definition of “science”. And apparently that made one of them mad enough to want to punch a professional Mixed Martial Arts fighter…  An aberration? Nope. It’s just human.

Baptists on a bridge

It reminded me of the classic “Baptist Joke” by the brilliant – and definitely different – Emo Phillips.

While you’re watching it, focus on three things: 1) The story he tells. It’s hilarious, but why? More on that later. 2) Emo’s style of delivery – how he plays with the comedy conventions and finds his own oddball path, and 3) How and where the audience reacts. I’ve linked to a longer “horse-face” version of the joke so you can see how he builds on it.

I’ll give you a minute to stop laughing. There. Done?

A bridge too far.

It’s especially funny to me because I come from a similarly schismatic tradition. The Dutch Calvinist / reformed tradition I grew up in has splintered over the years into dozens of tiny denominations – many of which are still busy splitting into still smaller groups.

How bad are we Dutch Calvinists? The scene: it’s late 1944, during the fury of the final Allied push through the Netherlands. The Scheldt campaign is underway and the disastrous “Bridge Too Far” battle fails to capture the bridge at Arnhem. The Nazis have cut off food supplies and 18,000 people are dying of starvation, with millions eating (no joke) tulip bulbs to survive. Harder, more dangerous times than I’ve ever experienced.

But yet, my spiritual ancestors are bickering with each  in a church basement. And that fight turns into a massive, church-splitting battle among themselves over… again, this is not a joke…. whether or not to sing hymns in church!

Seeing the bridges for the girders.

The problem is, like them, we often lose sight of the 95% of things we have in common, and have bloody battles over the teeny tiny 5% extra that separates us. Silly? Yes! Tragic? Definitely! But skipping over the “sames” and going straight to the “differs” is just how our brain works. And it can be a good thing too.

After all, it’s the same instinct that a wine connoisseur uses to tell you with one sip which year, region, and side of an Italian hill a wine comes from.

It’s the same instinct that lets a brand manager build a family of related products for customers (or confuse the heck out of them with meaningless differentiators).

But yes, it also leads people to slaughter their neighbours for looking a bit different, or worshiping a different god.

Which is why the world needs bridges – and jokes

In a divine irony, that “differ” impulse is also what makes a joke like Emo’s funny to us.  Humour relies on a twist in our expectations. As you listened to Phillips, he led you to *think* you knew where he was going. Two guys with a lot in common, find that in the end they really have something to live for, right?

Wrong. The unexpected violence of the ending rips apart the pattern and shows us where a real human flaw lies. And that’s why you laugh. Because Emo used your brain to fool you into seeing the truth.

I’ll wrap up with a  quote from Emo Phillips about jokes in the Guardian when he learned the Baptist joke had been voted The Best God Joke Ever:

Jokes are our safety-release mechanism. Sure they can sometimes be offensive. So can burps. But if you ban them even worse results happen. And believe me, if someone tells a joke that truly offends, he or she will be punished for it. That’s one area for sure where the government can take it easy and relax.

Can I get an “Amen” for brother Phillips?!?

Reading the Twee Leaves: science or just stats?

The big A-lister cage match on Twitter

So this afternoon, search a fascinating debate happened on Twitter. And the topic? Well, story Twitter. Or more specifically, how data and tests about Twitter behaviour are packaged. Can we call the use of those stats “science”? Dan Zarrella makes a living saying yes. Jason Falls begs to differ. The results? Entertaining for the rest of us.

Enjoy the show!

Below, I provide an exhaustive blow-by-blow of their conversation. First, note: I respect both these guys. But I admit a bit of bias. Though Dan Zarrella has lots of interesting insights about how we behave on social media, I’ve always been curious about his characterization of himself as a “Social Media Scientist”. Clever positioning. But is what he does really “science”? You decide.

Background reading if you’re not familiar with the combatants:

Please let me know what you think in the comments: who won? Does it matter?


You should see the story above. No? Click here for the whole match.

(Images from Flickr used under Creative Commons licenses: Dan Zarrella – by Technosailor. Jason Falls by jdlasica)

Battle of tooth and claw? Bet on beaver Canada.

For a national icon, buy more about a “toothy tyrant” beats a frozen bear.

Last week, Canadian Conservative senator Nicole Eaton suggested Canada abandon the beaver as our national emblem and adopt the polar bear instead. Um. Seriously? We Beg to Differ.

Let’s be clear: polar bears are awesome

I have nothing against polar bears! I know they are threatened by global warming, and we need to care about them now more than ever. I also have no argument with senator Eaton when she says that polar bears are…

“Canada’s most majestic and splendid mammal” but also a “powerful figure in the material, spiritual and cultural life” of Canada’s Inuit. (Calgary Herald)

All true. Seriously, I’d be the last person on earth to disrespect a polar bear – particularly in person. They are fearsome, powerful creatures, and yes, they are iconic symbols of the Canadian wilderness along with a small pantheon (Cantheon?) of other animals like the moose, the Canada goose, and the loon, that are thought of as quintessentially Canadian.

But it’s one thing to say that a creature is *an* icon, and quite another to say it is *the* symbol of your country.
Just like any symbol or brand icon, the national animal needs to balance two things: 1) the real – that is, it has to fit the perceived character of the country as it is today, and 2) the ideal – it has to imply a realistic, but positive, set of characteristics we aspire to as a country.

10 reasons the beaver should remain Canada’s national animal:

  1. Historic. Beaver pelts were deeply valued by natives, and even more by the Europeans who came looking for them to build top hats. They were our first major export, and for centuries, Canada was explored, developed, and fought over mainly for our little bucktoothed friends. Polar bears? Not so much. 
  2. Widely used. From Canada’s earliest days, the beaver has appeared on our national “marketing materials” as a symbol of Canada (see the postcard below). It also appears on the nickel, many official coats of arms and the Hudson’s Bay Company, as well as lending its name and image to the Canadian Pacific Railway, Roots Canada, Beaver Canoe, and to the iconic bush plane the de Havilland Beaver. The polar bear is used on our two dollar coin. And… that’s pretty much it.
  3. They’re cute (but edgy). It’s hard not to like a pudgy, buck-toothed beaver. But not in a cuddly sentimental way like a helpless baby seal -something polar bears love by the way. Basically, they’re cute but not cute enough to be a toilet paper mascot. Just like Canadians!
  4. They’re humble. Let’s face it, a giant carnivorous, seal-crunching, ice-smashing powerhouse of an animal doesn’t exactly seem like the Canada I know – or the one I’d want to live in. We’re a second-tier power, and not known for being ruthless or nasty.
  5. But not apologetic about it. Here’s where a beaver can take standard perceptions of Canadian-ness in a new direction. They’re not violent, but they’re not shy either. As a matter of fact, as anyone who has ever tangled with one will tell you, they’re dammed assertive little critters. In aboriginal totems, beavers represent these qualities: “determined, strong-willed, builder, overseer, and protector.”
  6. They build and change things. Beavers are the most ambitious builders on earth next to humans. No other animal can change their landscape as much, or with such positive results, as a beaver. But unlike people, beavers always create as many new habitats as they destroy – an example Canadians could stand to take more seriously.
  7. Adaptable and resilient. Water, land, wilderness, or city, beavers are there. There’s a beaver who lives two blocks from my house near downtown Ottawa. I’ve never yet seen a polar bear around here. But I’ll let you know if that changes.
  8. Warm weather animals. Canada has an undeserved reputation as a frozen place – a land of snow, ice, and igloos. And while Canada does get cold in the winter and a big part of Canada is indeed in the frozen north where the polar bears dwell, our national symbol should highlight the fact that 9/10 Canadians live most of our lives in hot summers and glorious long spring and autumn seasons – much more like a beaver than a polar bear.
  9. A unifier. There is only one symbol that is universally Canadian enough to be used as a heraldic symbol by Montreal, Toronto, 3 Western provinces, and the Hudson’s Bay Company. I’ll give you a hint. It ain’t a polar bear…
  10. Beavers are ours. Here’s the big one for Beg to Differ. Beavers are our symbol. No other place in the world is, or even wants to be, represented by a beaver. It’s a powerful Canadian differentiator

Let Russia, Chicago, and Boston have their bears. Let the Americans, Mexicans, and Germans have their eagles. The queen can keep her lion and unicorn – and one day, when we finally dump the British royalty, Canada can finally replace them in our national coat of arms with a majestic pair of iconic Canadian animals.

Okay, maybe then we could agree to have a beaver on one side and a polar bear on the other. But until then, I say let’s leave it to the beaver. How about you?

The new key questions of Social Media – after the Klout storm

Okay, unhealthy I admit it. I checked my Klout score. And so did you.

It was hard to resist every now and then. Just a little peek. How bad could that be? We’re human, cialis 40mg and we love to check our box scores for anything we do.

Well, guess what? After Klout’s sudden and arbitrary-seeming “re-alignment” of all of our scores today (explained by Klout CEO Joe Fernandez here), the angry snit it inspired among the Klouterati, and the inevitable backlash to the backlash, it became painfully obvious that the “standard measure” has never exactly been as scientific as the length of the path travelled by light in a vacuum in 1?299,792,458 of a second – if you get my meaning.

As a matter of fact, those dice are – and have always been – downright fuzzy. So I give you a fancy new infographic to explain the key questions we now face in social media after the storm…

Oh, and for the record, I lost 14 imaginary points myself. But who’s counting? Apparently not Klout.