Homesick

Rob Morris 3 Comments Better Lexington, Community

An open letter to Lexington’s leaders from the next generation
by Carson Morris

“How do we build a city the next generation will be homesick for?”
                                                        – Rebecca Ryan (via Tom Eblen)

Dear Leaders of Lexington,

CarsonSS
  Carson Morris, Superstar

As you return to Lexington from your trip to Madison, Wisconsin, flush with ideas and possibility in the wake of your visit, I wanted to let you know that we stand ready to help make Lexington better. 

While 260 of you were experiencing Madison directly, several hundred of us were following your visit in near-real-time, thanks to those few of you who shared the event using Twitter.  And while you were talking with Madison, we were actively talking about you, Madison, Lexington, and our future.  We had a vibrant discussion.

And when I saw Rebecca Ryan’s question, I hoped that you really took it to heart.  Because it means everything when I decide whether to stay in Lexington or not.  And it should inform every decision you make about our city: How do you build a city I will be homesick for?

Making me and my generation homesick won’t really be about “stuff” and status.  I know many of you were talking about tangible things – jobs, industries, neighborhoods, amenities, buildings, bike trails.  But that isn’t really what we value.  Those things don’t really make us want to stay here.  Making UK a top 20 research institution?  That may be great for attracting companies to Lexington, but I don’t see how that keeps me here.

If you want me to be homesick, you’ll have to connect with my heart.  Then, when I leave, Lexington will tug on my heart.  It will call to me.  Lexington will be the one place on earth I want to be. 

How do you create a Lexington for my generation?  How do you make us homesick for Lexington?  As you settle back into your regular routines, I wanted to help you set an agenda to implement the lessons of Madison for me and my
generation.  Here are a few of my ideas.  I’m sure my friends will have many more:

Listen to us.  For years, we’ve listened as you tell us what our generation wants and needs.  And then we leave town to go to school or to find a job.  And those other places seem built for us, so we never come back.

Too many times, your tuners are set to “broadcast” instead of “receive”.  As leaders, you are used to being listened to.  We understand that.  But I and my generation need to be heard.  And we need to know that you hear us.

The Madison experience was a great case in point.  For months now, our generation has been urging you to adopt Twitter (and other social media platforms) to talk with us.  In Madison, a few of you suddenly began using Twitter.  While we appreciate your new openness, we also wonder why you didn’t grant us the same credibility as those you talked with in Madison.

If you want us to stay, you must listen to us more.

 
Engage us.  At one point yesterday, Mayor Newberry declared that “I don’t think there has been a time in Lexington’s history where we’ve had the level of civic engagement we have now… Lexington needs your engagement in our community now.“

This is a profound and true statement from our mayor.  We do need your engagement (including you, Mr. Mayor). Now. 

We’re already having conversations about the future of our city.  We’re already saying what matters to us.  We’re already talking about leaving. 

In order to engage us, don’t wait for us to find you: you need to come to where we are and join our ongoing conversations.  Follow us on Twitter.  Spend time in our schools.  Read and comment on our blogs.  Share your thoughts and what you think about ours.  Debate with us.  Ask us what you can do.  Then do it.  Build on our ideas.  (P.S. We have a LOT of ideas.)

If you want us to stay, you must engage us more.

Value us.  As community leaders, you have so many opportunities to keep us in Lexington.  One of the biggest: demonstrate how much you value our talent and our intellect and our creativity. 

When I get to high school, hire me as a summer intern.  Let me work on special and important projects.  Encourage me to engage my friends in the efforts to grow your organizations. 

While I’m in college, toss me the keys and give me the opportunity to create something you might never imagine.  Will I stumble?  Absolutely.  Could you lose money?  Possibly.  But – if I’m successful – we both will profit.  And, either way, knowing that you value me will make me incredibly loyal – to you and to our city.

When I graduate and get a job, ask me what kind of places I want to live in.  What I want to do after hours.  What kind of neighborhood I want.  What is important to me.  Then – and this is the vital part – go build it for me.  It will benefit us both.

(P.S. Also do these things for your current generation of citizens and employees.  Then stand back.  Your success will blow you away.  It might keep some of the current generation in Lexington, too.)

If you want us to stay, you must value us more.


Respect us.  Listening.  Engaging.  Valuing.  It is all about showing fundamental human respect for us and our viewpoints.  If you demonstrate that kind of respect in your actions and in your attitudes, several wonderful things will begin to happen.

First, the right kinds of “stuff” – jobs, buildings, neighborhoods, amenities – will begin to emerge to tug on our hearts.  Our community – and our love for our community – will become much more vibrant.

Second, our economy will begin to flourish.  Giving us a platform to express and implement our ideas will help create the idea-rich economy that you learned about in Madison.  Having our voices and views incorporated into the community’s future gives us a stake in making that future happen.

Third, our brand will improve.  As Daddy has mentioned previously, you don’t get to decide our brand.  Blue horses or spotted yaks are irrelevant to whether I choose to love my city and to whether I choose to stay in Lexington.  A better brand emerges from being a better city.  And that starts with respecting your citizens and employees.

If you want to build a better Lexington – the kind of Lexington you are envisioning upon your return from Madison – you must listen to us.  You must engage us.  You must value us.  You must openly and actively demonstrate your respect for us. 

Then, you will have built a city that my generation will be homesick for.  That could be your legacy.  We’re already here.  And we want to engage you.  We want to help you succeed.  Join us.

Thanks,
Carson

Carson Tate Morris
2 years, 5 months old
Citizen, Future Voter, and Superstar

Unfortunately. Private.

Rob Morris 3 Comments Business, CentrePointe, Community, Neighborhood, Rants

There were two common refrains at Tuesday's Urban County Council confrontation between our vice mayor and the developers of CentrePointe. 

One was the word "Unfortunately" continuously invoked by the developers.  While "unfortunately" led some 6 sentences in the developers' prepared statement, it also led nearly every response from the developers to difficult questions from the Council.  Unfortunately, the developers didn't foresee the economic downturn.  Unfortunately, things change in projects like these.  Unfortunately, bloggers and the press and rumor-mongers have pointed out immense and inconvenient flaws in our business case.  Unfortunately, it is apparently their free-speech right to do so.  Unfortunately, people die.

Well, um, unfortunately, REAL businesspeople are supposed to anticipate and overcome such circumstances (not be paralyzed by them).  Anything less amounts to sheer speculation.  Which is what Lexington has encountered with CentrePointe.

The second refrain was actually more worrisome and more puzzling.  It came from members of the Council who acted as apologists for the developers (developers whose actions can only be characterized as bumbling).  These same councilmembers – Lane, Stinnett, Myers, McChord, and Beard – felt compelled to offer apologies for forcing the developers to account for their continuous inaction.

The refrain they used was "private".  Councilmember Myers asserted that this is private property assembled by private developers with private funds, that the developers could do whatever they wish with it, and that the council had no business forcing CentrePointe's developers to explain their incompetence.

Balderdash.

Before more libertarian readers resort to labeling me a socialist, let me assert my firm belief in property rights.  Unlike some of my more radical friends, I believe that property and capital and money have driven the vast majority of improvements in our living conditions and overall social well-being.  To be sure (and as we have seen quite clearly of late), capitalism often has an ugly downside driven by unrestrained greed.  But the long term gains have far outweighed that downside.

The crater created by CenterPointe's developers is certainly private property.  It belongs to them. 

But here's where the stalwart defenders of property rights are wrong: Private property always comes with civic responsibility.  Owners of private property cannot use their property in ways which destroy value for surrounding properties or surrounding businesses.

Let me illustrate this principle with a recent and vivid example:  A year and a half ago, in the Andover neighborhood, there was a private home that was infested with rats.  The community and the Health Department mobilized to eradicate the rats and eradicate the problem.  Nearby property owners (including yours truly) were rightly concerned for both our safety and our property values. 

Apparently, these same councilmembers would claim that the rat-infested house was private property, and, thus, the community had no right to defend their health or their property values.  Would councilmember Myers sit on his hands if a rat-infested house was next door to his house?  Apparently so.  Would councilmember Lane approve of a neighbor's right to spread pig manure (and noxious fumes) to fertilize their lawn in his Hartland Gardens?  Apparently so.  After all, it is their property, and they can do what they wish with it.  Right?

Of course not.  Private property comes with civic responsibility. 

* * *

With CentrePointe, we have a rathole downtown.  The rats, while not physical, are more insidious and more destructive:

  • There's the bulldozer rat that razed buildings, jobs, businesses, and revenue last July.  The rathole has produced no jobs, no revenue, no businesses, and no buildings.
  • There's the ugly-city rat that an out-of-town visitor takes back to their home as tourism dollars and tourists mysteriously disappear from downtown.  I suspect there will be many of this breed of rats available for the World Equestrian Games next year.
  • There's the blight rat which drains surrounding property values and sucks patrons out of surrounding businesses.  
  • And, finally, there's the developer rat, who repeatedly fails to deliver on public statements about CentrePointe's timing, funding, and business model. 

Councilmembers Stinnett, McChord, Myers, Lane, and Beard appear to sympathize with both the rats and with the rathole.

I do not.  And I don't appreciate our representatives who do.  And I'm not alone.

Private property comes with civic responsibility.  We need leaders who recognize that fact.

I choose both

Rob Morris 5 Comments Better Lexington, Business, Community, Rants

"The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two
opposing ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to
function. One should, for example, be able to see that things are
hopeless yet be determined to make them otherwise."
                                                — F. Scott Fitzgerald (via Ace Weekly)

"You must be the change you wish to see in the world."
                                                — Mohandas K. Gandhi

There is a revolution brewing in Lexington.  Fed up with the intransigence and bureaucracy of 'old' Lexington, 'new' Lexingtonians are gearing up for an overthrow of the old regime.

As a lifelong rebel and iconoclast, I love it.  As a business owner, I want the more vibrant Lexington (and downtown) that these changes promise.  As a father of a two-year-old, I want my son to have the greatest opportunities to learn, live, play, and work – and want his birthplace to provide those opportunities.  Lexington must change, or it will not grow.  If it does not grow, Lexington will wither and die.

Still, I'm a bit troubled…

More on why in a bit.  First, we need to describe the new and old Lexingtons.  (Or, if you Twitter – and you should – #OldLex and #NewLex.) 

OldLex is rooted in our city's and our region's traditions.  It wants to build on the heritage of our horse farms, our coal, our bourbon, our tobacco, and our basketball.  It values formality and processes and order and control, and is often obstinate in the face of change.  OldLex tends to respect big international companies, large events, and wealth.  It generally shuns technology. 

NewLex is borne of our city's innovative and intellectual potential.  It yearns to be free of restrictions and limitations imposed by centuries of tradition.  It values innovation and creativity and transparency and freedom, and usually gleefully wallows in the messiness and chaos of change.  NewLex tends to respect speed, intellect, local-ness, and the environment.  It embraces technology.

So there, in admitted caricature, are the two cultures of Lexington.  They currently stand in perplexed opposition to one another.  They blink in bewilderment at the other's actions (or inactions) and question the other's motives.

I am a confirmed NewLex kinda guy.  As a reader of this blog, I suspect that you also lean toward the NewLex camp.

But, as I mentioned, I'm troubled by something in the conflict between NewLex and OldLex.  I also hear the same concern echoed in comments on my blog and in NewLex Twitter discussions.  In summary, it is this: The desire for continuity is almost as strong as the desire for change.

While we decry the adoption of outdated icons of horses as the central identity our city, we still love the beautiful horses, the farms, the racetracks, and the uniqueness they bestow upon our city and state.  

We wish that some of the $36.5 million that just went to our new basketball coach had gone instead to improve our schools or our university.  But we do love our 'Cats, our Coach Cal, and our championships. 

We cannot fathom why our city's representatives haven't adopted more transparent practices and implemented more current technologies, but what, really, have we done to facilitate that?  (Have I already forgotten how mystifying Twitter was just a couple of months ago?)

As much as we advocate overturning the old ways of thinking and the old ways of doing things, we NewLexers sure like a lot of the old things.

And we should like them.  The horses, the basketball, and the bourbon are all significant and important parts of our heritage and our identity.  They are a part of what makes us 'US'. 

And in that heritage lies our one bond with our OldLex foes, and, I believe, our single best opportunity to effect real and necessary change in our city.  As NewLexers, we must challenge ourselves to embrace and leverage our past as a springboard into our future.  

Can a vibrant horse industry exist alongside an even-more-vibrant Eds-and-Meds economy?  I think so.

Can we use Lexington's defunct distilling industry and empty warehouses to build a vibrant arts and cultural (and distilling!) community?  I think so.

OldLex certainly comes with many flaws.  But, if we're honest with ourselves, NewLex can be just as problematic.  We often come off as brash and abrasive.  I kinda like being brash and abrasive.  The problem is that 'brash and abrasive' doesn't get the hard work of changing our city done; It brings such work to a halt as OldLex digs in their heels.  

NewLex often appears impractical.  We are full of plans and ideas, but frequently come up way short on tangible actions and, ultimately, results.  We must learn to transform our ideas and plans into actions on the ground.  We must, in short, be the change we wish to see in the world.

So I make a declaration that may not be popular with all of my NewLex compatriots: I choose both.  I choose the heritage that makes Lexington great.  I choose the creativity and intellect that will drive us into the future.  I choose to act with transparency and speed.  I choose to love the singular beauty of our horse farms.  I choose to reject the parts of (Old AND New) Lexington which hold our city back from becoming truly great.  NewLex?  OldLex?

I choose both.  I choose Lexington.

April in Review

Rob Morris 0 Comment Blog, Lowell's

April has been a busy month in the shop and on the blog.  Here's a sample of what we've been writing about this month:

  • Lowell's School Tools and the Bluegrass Vehicle Report.  We provided data about the vehicles we drive in Lexington and surrounding areas, as well as tools for parents and teachers to use to make the data come to life for their students.
  • Why CentrePointe will fail.  Our all-time most popular post analyzes why Lexington's CentrePointe project is doomed even if it is built.  (Also published in Ace Weekly)
  • But it isn't enough to simply grouse about the failure of CentrePointe.  We need to understand what went wrong, what to do about it, and what to do with the empty block downtown.  We need a plan.  Toward that end, we offer The UnTower Manifesto as a starting point for moving beyond CentrePointe. (Portions cross-posted to Ace Weekly and Barefoot & Progressive)
  • We weren't always serious in April.  We speculated on the real source of the Toyota truck logo.
  • What do you hate about Lowell's?  We ask you what you don't like about Lowell's.  We want to be better. 
  • Why Twitter matters.  Twitter has become something of an online sensation of late, with everyone from Oprah to the White House jumping on the Twitter bandwagon.  We talk about how to make it work, and why Twitter is more important than it may seem.
  • A better brand for Lexington.  We talk about what it will take to truly re-brand Lexington.  Hint: It doesn't involve a blue horse or Pentagram.  (Also published in Ace Weekly, and cross-posted to Transform Lexington)

Many thanks to our friends at Ace Weekly, Transform Lexington, and Barefoot & Progressive for amplifying much of what we wrote here this month.

Enjoy!

A better brand for Lexington

Rob Morris 4 Comments Community, Ideas, Rants

Lexington's leaders are busy picking a new brand for our city.

Sorry, gang.  You don't get to decide.

Lexington_01_sm Last week, the Urban County Council's Planning Committee considered the city identity possibilities of the blue horse that Pentagram
(an international design firm) crafted for the Lexington Convention and Visitors Bureau.  The committee forwarded the discussion on to the full Council. 

Unfortunately, the Blue Horse Debate is a waste of
time, talent, money, and attention.

Our
representatives fail to realize that Lexington's brand is largely out
of their hands.  And it certainly isn't in Pentagram's hands.  Whether
they choose
to promote a blue horse or a spotted yak is irrelevant to Lexington's
brand. 

Telling versus Earning
Marketers (and leaders) suffer from a kind of conceit.  The marketers' conceit is that they can tell us what their brand means.  They fail to realize that brands are reputations which are earned.

A brand isn't a
declaration.  It isn't an intention or a vision.  It isn't what leaders say it is, no matter how well it is designed and researched.  It isn't
a great ad campaign or a really slick logo or a lyrical tag-line.  It is certainly
not a marketing function.

Brands arise from all of our experiences with that product or that city,
not from what the leaders of any company or city want them to be (or say they are).

The best brands don't tell people they're great.  They earn greatness.

If
people believe that Lexington is a boring town, then (unfortunately) that is part of our
brand.  If people believe that we are a technology backwater, then that,
too, is part of our brand.

This is scary because our brand is
pre-set in peoples' minds, and it takes a lot of hard work to be good enough to dislodge entrenched perceptions.

It is scary because it isn't about saying we're better; it is about actually BEING better.  Really
better, not just in-our-marketing-plan 'better'.  Not just
approve-a-message/logo/strategy-in-a-meeting 'better', either.

We have to earn a reputation for better schools, better businesses, better technologies,
better leaders (and not just at LFUCG, either), better conversations, better people, and
better visions of the future.  And we can't buy that reputation from any design or branding firm.

To improve our brand, we have to truly transform Lexington.

Inertia
So why do our representatives persist in their silly pursuit of the blue horse?

Over the years, I've frequently witnessed something
I call institutional inertia.  Institutional inertia happens
when individuals in an organization don't really feel
responsible for (or influential upon) the success of the organization.

In those cases, the easiest thing to do is just stay the course, even
if that course is doomed to failure…  When inertia raises its ugly head, it is often,
maddeningly, the powerful (those who think they have the most to lose)
which become the most hostile to change and most determined to stay the
destructive course.  Doing nothing is always easier than doing the
right thing, especially when doing the right thing is a lot of hard work.

And
paying someone to design an 'identity' is an easy-but-doomed course for
improving Lexington's brand.  There is no 'magic bullet' for crafting a
better brand for our city.

If we want a better brand for Lexington, then make sure our city is
an attractive, welcoming place for our visitors.  Ensure that our
people are knowledgeable, warm, and friendly.  Create rich,
distinctive, and memorable experiences for both our citizens and our
visitors.  Foster the growth of vibrant businesses and arts communities
that make Lexington a compelling place to work and play.

Then, perhaps, Lexington will earn the better brand we are seeking.

Update: 4/28 Cross-posted to both Ace Weekly and Transform Lexington.

Full disclosure: In a previous job, Rob severed his firm's relationship with Pentagram.

[where: 200 E Main St, Lexington, KY, 40507]

Making Twitter work

Rob Morris 2 Comments Blog, Community, Ideas, Twitter, Web

A couple of weeks ago, Oprah began using Twitter.  Some saw her adoption of the service as a milestone that Twitter had gone mainstream.  Others decried it as a sure sign that the Twitter fad was about to flame out.

Why all the fuss about Twitter? 

I have to admit that I just didn't get it.  At first.  In this post, I'll talk about how I learned to love Twitter. In my next post, I'll talk about Why twitter matters.

How Twitter works

Twitter is a microblogging service which allows users to post messages of 140 characters or less.  These messages – called 'tweets' – chronicle what the user is doing / reading / thinking in that moment.  You can follow other users, and they can follow you as well.  [Note: There are privacy settings in Twitter which allow you to protect who sees your tweets.]

Because the messages are limited to 140 characters, a kind of Twitter shorthand code has developed to convey key concepts.  Responses to other users contain an 'at' sign (@) before their user name – so, for instance, other Twitter users respond to my posts with an '@robmorris2'.'

When discussing a particular topic, users often apply a hashtag (a pound sign – #) to their post.  Right now, there are a lot of #swineflu hashtags in the twitterverse as people tweet about the current flu outbreak in Mexico, the US, and New Zealand. 

Many users want to share interesting stories or blog posts with their followers.  But because regular web addresses (URL's) can run 60 or 70 characters, many people use URL 'shorteners' to compress a web address to just 16 or so characters.  So many of Twitter's addresses are from the bit.ly, is.gd, tr.im, or similar odd-looking domains.

When users want to share someone else's tweet with their followers, they often 're-tweet it'.  They do so with 'RT' and the user's @name.  So, when I saw a Dave Winer tweet that I thought was worth sharing, I shared it this way: "RT @davewiner: Why NPR is Thriving (They’re Not Afraid of Digital Media). http://tr.im/jH5o".

Critical Mass
Twitter gives you some basic tools to help you find and add other friends who use the service.  When I first started using Twitter, I added a few close friends.  I twittered something about what I was doing, careful to use my 140 character allotment.

And nothing happened.  I really wondered what this Twitter fuss was all about…

Only one of my friends really used the service more than a few times a month.  And he (@billder – well worth following) was in Portland, used a bewildering array of #'s and @'s, was talking with folks I didn't know, and I wasn't quite sure what to make of it all.

I posted to Twitter once or twice a week through January.  And then I drifted away until April.

After listening to an audiobook of What Would Google Do? by Jeff Jarvis (@jeffjarvis on Twitter), the prominent blogger of the BuzzMachine blog, I decided to give Twitter another try.

I followed many more folks the second time around: local and national news sites; favorite authors, bloggers, and personalities; technology sites; interesting companies and their executives; and whatever else I found interesting.

When I got up to about 50 people, Twitter started to get really intriguing.  With more and more interesting people sharing more and more interesting thoughts, links, and re-tweets, Twitter suddenly became much more vibrant.


Going Real-time
But there was something which still didn't work for me: the Twitter web page.  As a static page with maybe 20 tweets on it, I had to keep reloading.  If a lot of folks were tweeting, I often missed important tweets from friends in the flurry of tweets from other, more prolific users.

It was (and is) all a bit chaotic. 

But there are solutions.  Twitter has allowed software developers to graft their products onto the Twitter platform.  There are a bevy of such products out there: Seesmic, Twhirl, TweetFon, Tweetie, and many others.  Each has different features and functions.

My current favorite is desktop software called TweetDeck.  With TweetDeck, Twitter finally came alive and started making sense for me.  In other words, I finally 'got' Twitter. 

There are four key features of TweetDeck which make it work for me.

First, TweetDeck auto-refreshes.  This means that I get nearly-live updates as soon as they happen.  For me, it transforms Twitter from a static web page into a real-time social messaging system.

Second, TweetDeck lets me create groups of people that I can follow.  This means that I can group folks according to how important they are to me or by which parts of my life they belong to.  By default, TweetDeck has an 'All Friends' column which contains live tweets from everyone I follow.  But I created another column which has tweets from folks that I really want to pay attention to.  The 'groups' feature let me create some order out of Twitter's chaos, and helped ensure that I didn't miss important local or topical or personal tweets.

Third, the software made tweeting easier.  TweetDeck has a lot of built in stuff to respond to (@) or re-tweet (RT) other users.  It lets me shorten a URL right inside the interface. 

Fourth, TweetDeck has a search function which allows me to monitor what anyone in the twitterverse is saying about a particular topic (like, say, "Toyota") live.  So I can get a sense of what is happening with things that are important to me right now.

These four features of TweetDeck (some of the other Twitter software has them too) brought Twitter to life for me.  They allowed me to connect with new people and have new conversations that would otherwise never have happened. 

Making Twitter Work
What made Twitter 'work' for me was 1) making sense of its shorthand, 2) following a critical mass of other users to make things interesting, and 3) using a 'live' interface (for me, TweetDeck) which catapulted the service from a website into a many-to-many conversation.

In my next post, I'll talk about Why Twitter matters.

Why Twitter matters

Rob Morris 2 Comments Blog, Community, Ideas, Twitter, Web

[In my previous post, I described how I made Twitter work for me.  If you'd like to see how I got the most out of Twitter, click here.]

It took me a while to understand Twitter, as documented in my last post.  I'm certainly not the most prolific or most informed user, but I've come to gain some insights about Twitter that I haven't seen a lot of other commentators pick up on.  These are by no means exclusive to Twitter, but I think it is the platform which most embodies these characteristics today:

  1. New kinds of connection.  More than any other medium I've come across, Twitter enables new kinds of social interactions.  Conversations become multilateral public events, instead of one-way or two-way forms of communication.  And those conversations can coalesce around personal, local, or topical interests.  I can dip in and out of many different conversations happening simultaneously.  If I have nothing interesting to say about an interesting topic, I can just observe while others contribute.

  2. The new news.  As a news junkie, I used to troll blogs and websites for the latest information on what was happening in business, in technology, in Lexington, and in the world-at-large.  Now, Twitter serves as my news station.  I can easily ignore tweets which I don't find interesting, but follow links which are of interest.  What is best is that this news is already vetted by folks I respect and trust.

    Further, Twitter's hashtag convention allows me to follow what topics are 'hot' through tools like TwitScoop, which is enabled by default in TweetDeck (see my last post if this last passage looks like Greek to you).  The news on Twitter often unfolds long before mainstream media picks it up.  In Ace Weekly (@AceWeekly), Kakie Urch (@ProfKakie) put together an excellent analysis of how Twitter acted as the new news in the #amazonfail case, including how long it took traditional media to even notice, while the twitterverse was exploding in outrage.  (As I write this, a friend of mine, @JasonOney, is mounting a campaign to save the NBC series Chuck, using the #savechuck tag.  And he's got friends marching with him.  Look out NBC.)

  3. Twitizenship. What the #amazonfail and #savechuck cases (among many thousands more) demonstrate is a new form of online citizenship, characterized by immediacy, openness, and cause-centered organization.  This 'twitizenship' can create what some call 'flash mobs': groups which form nearly instantly in either the virtual or physical worlds.  Twitizens expect speed, transparency, and action from both businesses and civic leaders.

    My favorite recent example: Kickeball at CentrePointe Parque.  Where?  Let me explain.  Using Twitter and Facebook, a flash mob formed around the idea of playing a kickball game on the pit of rubble in Lexington where CentrePointe is not being built.  So, last Friday at 5:30 PM, they had a game – and a wonderful bit of public theater and civil disobedience.  It was quick.  And you can read the best account here (Thanks, @KeeganFrank) and see the best video here (Thanks, Mick Jeffries).  You should check out these accounts, because the local media completely whiffed on coverage over the ensuing 24 hours.  I left work to go to the pit and witness the game (but not to participate – I was chicken, and I didn't want to get arrested).

    This is a fun example, but I hope my main point shines through: Twitter allows citizens to form into and disband from interest groups at lightning speed.  These groups have higher expectations of their leaders and of businesses, who must respond with greater speed and openness.  Those who fail to respond will surely #fail. 

Twitter's platform allows for new social formations which are important, and will be changing the way we interact, the way we get our news, and the way we create a better city, state, nation, and planet.  Governments, businesses, and citizens must adapt to this changed world, or they will be left behind.

Those are my thoughts on why Twitter matters.  What are yours?

Sayre presents Kilowatt Ours at the Kentucky Theatre

Rob Morris 0 Comment Better Lexington, Community, Neighborhood

Our friends and neighbors on Sayre School's Green Council are presenting a free showing of the documentary Kilowatt Ours: A Plan to Re-Energize America at the Kentucky Theatre at Noon on Wednesday 22 April.  The film is open to the public, runs at about 55 minutes, and there will be a question-and-answer session with Jeff Barrie, the film's director, afterward.

Find out more about Wednesday's showing here, and see a short preview on the film's website here.

So bring your lunch down to the Kentucky, and see Kilowatt Ours with us on Wednesday.

[where: 214 E Main St, Lexington, KY 40507]

The UnTower Manifesto: 1. Truth

Rob Morris 0 Comment Business, CentrePointe, Community, Customer Service, Ideas, Neighborhood, Rants, UnTower

[Note: The UnTower Manifesto is a three-part series about responding to the failure of CentrePointe.  You can read the full story of that failure here.]

As the CentrePointe project becomes the UnTower scandal, a general consensus has developed which agrees that CentrePointe will never be built on the crater that its developers rushed to create. 

A critical question, then, is this: If CentrePointe will not be successfully constructed, how should Lexington move forward in the wake of the UnTower scandal?

There is the obvious question of how to proceed with the colossal scar in the middle of our city.  But there is also the less obvious – but, ultimately, more important – issue of changing how Lexington works in order to prevent the next UnTower catastrophe.  Let me start there, and we'll return to the issue of what to do with the site.

Toward a Better Lexington
The details of how UnTower happened have slooowly trickled out from the developers.  Their secrecy, lack of candor, intimidation, outright deception, and possible fraud have sharpened questions about how decisions have been made throughout the project's approval process.  UnTower has exposed how opaque and how ill-informed our mayor's and our Urban County Council's decision-making processes have been.  And, if you look closely enough, the scandal shows us how Lexington should improve.

So, how did this fiasco happen?  The details have been covered many times from many, many, many quarters, so I'll simply summarize the key themes:

  • Throughout UnTower, the developers have maintained great secrecy about the financing and the business model behind their development.  As details have emerged, neither looks viable.
  • The developers claim their project is 'private', but have pressured the public to provide approvals and special Tax Increment Financing (TIF) for the project, with much of the TIF dependent upon a vibrant long-term business model which they don't have.
  • The developers, the mayor, and some council members have not shared how and when they learned about key elements of and issues with UnTower which led to its ultimate demise.
  • The developers, the mayor, and much of the council have responded to pointed and informed questions about the project with vague, non-responsive answers.  Often, they refused to respond at all.
  • While there was public discussion about the decisions our government was making, the conversation was muffled by their timing and format.

In the end, the whole affair had a distinct 'backroom deal' flavor to it which left more questions than answers: How were these decisions made?  What information went into the decisions?  What information was withheld?  What information was fabricated? Who talked with whom about the project?  When did they talk? 

All of the questions have raised a bigger question: How is it possible that our community doesn't have absolute clarity into how decisions are made by our elected representatives?

In my business, if we failed to clearly explain how a vehicle was repaired, we'd lose customers.  If we came across as less-than-honest, our loyal customers would fire us.  If we refused to meet with a customer to address their complaints, they would tell their friends and family.  If we didn't make things right when we screwed up (and, yes, that does happen occasionally), our reputation would suffer.  In the end, our business would fail.

With UnTower, our community's 'business' failed us.

Clarity.  Explanation.  Honesty.  Availability.  Accountability.  These are the pillars of a transparent business that customers can believe 'does things right'.  A healthy, vibrant business which grows and prospers.

We wouldn't accept anything less than these qualities from a business.  And we shouldn't accept anything less from Lexington.

In an age of websites, blogs, Twitter, and Facebook, every business has had to engage in conversations with customers on the customers' terms.  The ubiquity of the internet means that these tools are available to nearly everyone, nearly everywhere.  The latency of the internet means that the conversations don't have to happen at the same time – they can build over time.  The internet's ubiquity and latency forms the foundation of a new and better town hall.

Why should we all have to cram into a room at the same time?  Why should we have to play 'beat the clock' when talking about issues which are complex and nuanced?  Why should we have to forgo pressing business or personal matters to attend a meeting which is designed to be convenient for our representatives?

The internet provides the perfect public forum for every citizen to express his or her public policy views, ideas, and thinking.  Even better, our ideas can build on one another as we tinker with and improve the ideas of our neighbors.  Plus, conducting civic conversations on the internet can happen around the clock.  Citizens can participate in the public discussion when and where it is convenient for them, not for the elected representatives who serve them.  Isn't that the way it should be?

Further, every single representative should publish their conversations, thinking, dilemmas, trade-offs, beliefs and positions (and the transactions between them and other interested parties – like developers or investors or campaign contributors).  These records should be posted online for all citizens to see, comment on, debate, and improve.

The council members' emails are listed on the city's website, as are the mayor's newsletters.  But these are old, closed, one-way forms of communication.  They aren't vibrant community discussions.

So, do I want to see tweets that the mayor's advisor is picking up eggs?  Or a Facebook entry featuring the halloween costumes of the councilwoman's children?  Not particularly.  But we deserve to see real-time updates of their thinking on critical community issues.  We should know why they have changed their minds at the last minute.  They should tell us who they talked with and what they said.  After all, they are public officials.  We should see into a transparent civic machine which serves all of us.

What is clear is that a 19th-century civic apparatus has hamstrung our
21st-century community. The ancient contraption allows far too many
secrets to hide within.  Whether our representatives and our governments use blogs, Twitter, Facebook, or some other platform matters far less than whether they start participating in open conversations with the people they serve.

The technology already exists.  Millions of people already use it.  Thousands of your constituents use it every day.  It's easy.  It's free.  And it will make Lexington better.  What are you waiting for?

[Continued in: The UnTower Manifesto: 2. Consequences]

[where: E Main St & N Limestone St, Lexington, KY 40507]

The UnTower Manifesto: 2. Consequences

Rob Morris 2 Comments Business, CentrePointe, Community, Ideas, Neighborhood, Rants, UnTower

[Note: The UnTower Manifesto is a three-part series about responding to the failure of CentrePointe.  You can read the full story of that failure here.]

The consequences for UnTower should rest on the people who perpetrated the scandal: The mayor, some council members, and the developers.  Let's start with the mayor.

In other venues, I've seen the mayor talk with his skeptics with apparent openness and graciousness.  He was quite articulate.  He listened to their concerns and seemed to hear them.

But the last several months have shown a repeated abdication of his duties in the face of scandal.  This pattern first emerged with the airport staff's misappropriation of public funds in their credit-card-and-travel scandal, where the mayor displayed a perplexing tendency to drag his feet.  Now, as CentrePointe devolves into the UnTower scandal, the mayor has shown a similar lack of initiative to lead on his citizens' behalf.  Instead, he has resorted to 'happytalk' to defend what is clearly a failed project.

Meanwhile, the vice mayor has been active and vocal in challenging both scandals.  The effect: a grassroots effort to draft him to run for mayor in 2010, complete with its own Facebook fan page and glowing coverage in local media.  The current mayor seems to have no such dialog with the citizens he serves, and seems to have generated little enthusiasm for a 2010 run.

The mayor needs to begin to lead with candor, action, and transparency – beginning with complete clarity around what happened to create UnTower – or his constituency will chase him from office.

The same can be said for the members of the Urban County Council – especially those who rubber-stamped the UnTower project without adequate scrutiny or analysis.  They must assume a more actively transparent posture – including using the tools and technologies to have conversations with the people they serve – or they, too, will be removed from office by their increasingly-informed electorate. Their citizens will no longer tolerate the kinds of hijinks and misdirection that characterized UnTower.

Finally, there are UnTower's developers.  What should happen to them?

The scar in the middle of town is their property.  But the destruction of the block and the special tax status endowed on the block were public events, with public investments and public impacts.  If anyone doubts the public impacts, just talk with businesses bordering the UnTower eyesore about its effects as a customer-repellent.

So here's my modest proposal for penalizing their deception.

First, the council should explore all options for rescinding the block's special Tax Increment Financing (TIF) status.  TIF was granted under conditions which no longer seem to apply, and the developers no longer appear to have earned that special status.

Second, the council should – to the extent it is able – strictly re-define acceptable future uses of the property in light of the UnTower scandal.  Given that the developers contributed to the scandal with their hollow promises and continual lack of disclosure, I would hope that our council would be particularly stringent with requirements for how the property functions as part of our community and that they would set a strict timetable for the developers to act.

The developers misled us to gain advantage; now they should pay the price.

[Continued in: The UnTower Manifesto: 3. Beyond UnTower]

[where: E Main St & N Limestone St, Lexington, KY 40507]