{GOOD MARKETING} Being human

Apple traditionally releases a holiday video every year. This year's video is the story of a young family with two daughters visiting their widower grandpa for the holidays. It's been directed as a short story that doesn't seem entirely related to apple, aside from an iPad being a central part of the plot.

While I don't want to spoil it (go watch it and see for yourself), it is a masterful piece of advertising because the central theme is how technology can make us more human and cement deep meaningful relationships. Say what you want about Apple and god knows that as a company it is far from perfect, but they nailed it with this one because it hits the bullseye. They've always marketed their products’ "why", e.g. powerful enablers of creativity in contrast to soulless competitors, who always tout their wares’ gigabytes, screen size and other irrelevant features. This is why apple survives through thick and thin and has been the most valuable brand in the world for a long time.

Ultimately this is what makes a strong brand: a well-defined, aspirational purpose (or "why" as Simon Sinek put it) which guides all business decisions and ultimately builds a strong culture. I would venture a guess that if any modern-day company is meant to survive for a long time (say, more than a century), I'd bet on Apple, as they have in them the ability to reinvent themselves without losing their soul. That's what makes the brand the most valuable in the world.

I was dared by Bob Hoffman (link - scroll to the bottom) to watch this ad without weeping like a little girl and I went into saying "yeah right". Little did I know that I would end up bawling my eyes out every time I watched it. If you don't weep like a willow tree by the end of the video, allow me to question your humanity. That alone makes it one of the greatest ads ever made.


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Safeguarding the oil field

Data is the most valuable commodity of the 21st century. For nearly 20 years, big tech has been downplaying its value in the public's eye while generating untold amounts of profit at the same time. The same way there is a distinction between owning an oil field outright and merely being granted a license to exploit it, we should be very conscious of what we do with our personal data and not give it away to corporations for free.

If personal data is so valuable, we should then treat it like our own personal oil field. By estimating how much future value it contains, we can then demand compensation and assurances of the companies that it will not be abused beyond explicit terms.

The same is true of so-called smart cities. Giving a company carte blanche to build, collect and exploit data in perpetuity, with little to no oversight on how and when this data will be used has long term implications that are as yet poorly understood, so we have every reason to tread carefully. The way to develop smart cities that are beneficial to everyone is to treat the data collected as private (the identifiable stuff) and its aggregate as commons, that nobody can own outright, in order to level the playing field and allow anyone with a good idea to make good use of these data. We should seek out fully open-source standards and demand interoperability instead of closed, proprietary ones.

Now, imagine an open-source smart city where data are shared and marketplace players emulate each other as a way to make a more sustainable built environment a reality so that we ensure to leave the planet better than we found it. Wouldn't that better a better use of the oil field?


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Why cities matter

Cities have attracted people for millennia because they offer something that one cannot find anywhere. They are groups of people coming to a place, to work, play and live with one another. One could argue they have been a great pacifying force in history, as commerce has proven time and time again to prevent wars, as people trading with one another would have too much to lose. City-states, of which there is arguably only a handful remaining today, were great examples of that.

With the rise of the modern nation-state and breakneck technological progress of the last couple of centuries, especially with the ever-decreasing travel times enabled by modern transportation, cities may have lost a little of their importance in enabling humans to interact and trade with one another, but they still offer one advantage that technology has not yet been able to supplant: the proximity to one another and therefore the ability to cultivate face to face relationships. While it is now nearly frictionless to make a video call from Toronto to Shanghai, we communicate so much in person that it cannot be communicated through a FaceTime call that I do not see the need to be near one another vanishing anytime soon.

The question is: how do we build the cities of the future that are continuing to leverage and improve upon these in-person interactions?


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Moving Pictures

The title may be a riff on Rush's famous 1981 album and its hilarious cover art, but I want to discuss the power of film to tell the story of a project. I recently went to NYC for 10 days and taught myself how to film and edit architecture videos. While my technical skills at this point are only average (but constantly improving) when it comes to filmmaking, I mainly focused on how to assemble moving images in order to tell the story of a place.

Stills are a great tool to showcase architecture, but lacking in the fourth dimension - time - they are an incomplete representation of space and as such, present tremendous challenges when it comes to representing time in a frozen medium. They are essentially a highly curated view of a space fixed in time, that we all know is not a representation of reality.

Film, on the other hand, is a lot messier, because it is darn near impossible, unless you have Hollywood-type budgets, to curate the imagery the same way it can be done for stills. That means that one has to embrace the inherent messiness of a space, place or object and work around it. While a finished movie is still a curated vision of the subject, it feels more authentic because the time dimension makes it harder to fake, although one could argue that with AI and deepfakes it is now only a matter of time -pun intended- before we can represent anything in any way we want without regards for reality.

But for now, that realism associated with film still stands. Why is it that so few people are taking advantage of the media to tell their stories?

Here’s a short film about handball in Coney Island:

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Spending one week in Brooklyn

Brooklyn is a fascinating world. Large enough to be a city in and of itself, it nonetheless takes a backstage to Manhattan when we evoke imagery of New York City. Fairly large, but more importantly very dense and vibrant, it is, very much like Toronto a city of neighbourhoods, each having its distinct characteristics, culture and populations. Unlike Toronto, it is not a collection of small commercial hubs surrounded by endless blocks of low-density residential neighbourhoods, but rather a fairly homogenous dense urban environment, with brownstone-lined residential streets nestled in between major commercial arteries.

Having grown in a rather small, but very dense (for its size) city, I find in Brooklyn a lot of the qualities I've come to appreciate about my hometown: lots of walking-distance commerce, with pretty much everything one can wish for within a stone's throw, lots of vibrant activity (there is always people around), ease of getting around and tons of pleasant public spaces within a 30-minute walk radius.

This may be the romantic in me speaking but there is really something about one's ability to be in a dense urban environment that makes life interesting. There is an energy that's exhilarating and the opportunity to make random connections with strangers that may share some of our interests that's exciting and promising. NYC may not be perfect, and the very high cost of living makes it increasingly harder to make it there, but it seems to be giving so much back in return.

How do we replicate that elsewhere?

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The kindness of a stranger

I was recently sitting in a cafe minding my own business when an aspiring photographer asked me to take my portrait on her Soviet-era film camera. Being a photographer and often frustrated at people's awkwardness and reluctance to be in other's photographs I decided to play along on one condition: that she shared the picture with me once it was developed and scanned. I completely forgot about it and on Christmas day, I received an email with said photo attached (see below). It's one of the most thoughtful and meaningful selfless Christmas gift I've ever received.

Never underestimate the power of random acts of kindness, especially to strangers. I realize it's easier said than done and impossible to physically help everyone we encounter, but it's these kinds of small meaningful interactions that can make someone's day, not to mention that they are nearly costless. I personally find that instead of worrying about Trump's latest asinine statement or Kylie Jenner's latest tabloid headline (yes she had plastic surgery done) life's enjoyment increases exponentially if I focus on the people that are directly around and do what I can to help them have a good day.

Photo credit: Sofia Sytnykova (@35mm.ss ).

Photo credit: Sofia Sytnykova (@35mm.ss ).

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The value of having no choice

I recently purchased a gimbal for my camera as a way to force myself into learning how to tell stories with video. While I did not spend an inordinate amount of resources on this new tool, being financially committed to the object and by the same token, the practise of film-making, I have but no choice to go out and start playing with video to develop a new area of practice.

There is real value in being committed to something, with serious consequences if I fail to uphold the commitment, in this case, wasted capital. Having never had any significant experience making films, aside from fucking around with the family's Hi-8 camcorder back in the 90's, this is a practice that terrifies me. It does mainly because the monkey brain is setting expectations of quality that are completely unrealistic for a complete noob, primarily because I foolishly imagine that I could produce videos of the caliber of a seasoned professional immediately, which is an insane proposition.

My heuristic to overcome this "I'm not good enough" barrier is to run towards the things that terrify me, as I know deep down that the challenge will be a source of tremendous learning and growth.

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How to do institutional buildings real good.

The Whitney Museum of American Art is a well-known NYC institution. In its 89 years of existence, it has known many incarnations, the latest of which is a purpose-built building in New York's Chelsea neighbourhood, designed by RPBW.

While it is an imposing building, it is certainly not out of scale in a city like New York. It is noticeable yet does not scream for attention and plays nice with the surrounding meatpacking district, a formerly industrial, gritty and derelict neighbourhood that has experienced a renaissance in the last decade or so. It doesn't hurt that it's adjacent to the southern end of the High Line, another fantastic NYC insta-landmark.

It is inside the museum that one can experience what truly meaningful architecture is like. This is a building dedicated to the showing of art and as such, it is designed to take a backstage to art and the multitude of other activities that unfold in it. While very nicely built and rife with clever detailing (my favourite is the lighting in the main staircase - see picture), the building is a very effective background for life's many activities. In typical Piano fashion, it is a very simple, yet elegant building that does what it's supposed to do very well.

Compared to -ahem- more showy institutions that have come about around the same time, it is of very high calibre and one of the best museum building to come about in recent years.

Pro-tip: if you visit, be sure to check out all the vistas from the multitude of outdoor terraces, the glazed staircase facing the Hudson River and the well-curated museum store.

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Truth Is Golden ep. 305 - Good Fucking Design Podcast w/ Jason Bacher

One founding half of GFDA and certified foulmouth, Jason Bacher is a talented designer, dedicated teacher and all-around decent human being. We talked about his humble beginnings selling wallpaper and how that eventually led him to found Good Fucking Design Advice with his long-time friend Brian Buirge. We also talked about failure, the strangeness of moving to new cities, firing your mother twice and the value of standing out using unbridled profanities.

About the podcast: The intent behind our podcast series "Truth Is Golden" is to look at renowned creatives and their work with a critical eye. We aim to ask deep questions in order to peel back the layers of marketing, clever one-liners and sexy branding. We want to show the world what it truly takes for genuinely creative forces to find their own voice build a career on what is very often nothing more than a drive to do things differently. We want to hear about the successes, the failures, the inspirational stories and the lessons gleaned from all of it. We want the truth so that we can inspire other people to fulfill their own creative aspirations and in the process contribute to making the world a better place.

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On Death And Motorcycles

Reading time ~10 minutes

The identities have been changed to protect the innocents…

The identities have been changed to protect the innocents…

Warning: This writing is an experimental piece about a topic is deeply personal. It’s about to get real, so buckle-up Bucko, and come along for the ride.

For anyone who knows me even a little bit, it’s no secret that I love motorcycling. I enjoy few things, if any, more than being on the open road, carving through twisties, enjoying the angry growl of a high-revving V4 engine, delivering a healthy dose dopamine to the brain. Even if that were the one and only benefit I got from riding a bike, it would still be my #1 hobby, but there is indeed much more to it than that.

I don’t ride to cultivate a certain image (although I do love wearing colorful leather jackets that weigh 20lbs). I do because it is calling my name every day and I can neither explain it, nor can I resist it. Don’t talk to me about motorcycles in the middle of winter when my bike is stored away in the garage, impatiently waiting for spring, it will not be a fun conversation. It’s one of those all-consuming things that just takes over one’s life. I used to be a casual rider, the kind of motorcyclist who goes from A to B for practical reasons and does the occasional out-of-town outing for a few hours on a sunday. However, the drive to ride - pun intended -  has grown over the years and now, I am only fully satisfied with multi-day trips clocking in thousands of kilometers. 

There is something about the transient motorcycle-bum lifestyle that one is forced to adopt while on the road that is deeply satisfying. Indeed, as a function of riding a small, lightweight vehicle, it is impossible to travel with more than the bare essentials: basic camping gear, non-perishable foods - canned tuna, rice and boiled eggs are the road gourmet’s treats of choice - and a few changes of clothes. While it is always a bit tricky to abandon the comforts of our modern urban lifestyle, a few days on the road makes me forget the luxury of a warm, fluffy bed pretty quickly when traded for beautiful, unfamiliar landscapes and endless, billiard-smooth ribbons of asphalt. To me, that is the ultimate expression of freedom: a loose destination, no time constraints and not knowing where I’m going to sleep at night.

There are things that every serious motorcycle rider experiences while on the road, but few are able to express in a meaningful manner. One of those things, is the realization that life is a giant paradox, where opposing forces constantly work in tension: Night & day, black & white, happy & sad, rich & poor are only a few and some of the most obvious of these contradictions. When it comes to riding, the paradox takes the form of taking big, possibly lethal risks, in exchange for a fleeting reward.

Indeed, on the one hand, riding is exciting, exhilarating and a potent source of adrenalin. On the other hand, it is also an incredibly dangerous activity that requires the utmost level of attention, as the difference between remaining on the bike and wiping out lies in split-second decisions. With 100+ horsepower on a 220 kg bike, the power to weight ratio is that of a modern-day Supercar. Put another way, nothing but the rarest of ultra-luxury sports cars is faster than a moderately powerful bike. And I’m not even talking about the crotch rockets that you see bozos in t-shirts and flip-flops stunting on the highway (that’s a rant I’ll save for an in-person discussion about how these clowns make all bikers look bad). 

As a thrill-seeker, I can say that there are few things I’ve tried that provide as much excitement. Yes, bungee-jumping will give you an intense adrenaline rush, but it’s typically short-lived and the risk of injury jumping off of a bridge is practically zero, given the safety measures that these operations are obligated to provide. Beyond excellent preparedness and decent riding skills, motorcyclists have to ensure that their machine is well-maintained and constantly on the lookout for issues that could spiral into accident-generating blow-outs if not addressed early. It’s in many ways the modern-day incarnation of a rider and his horse: I have to take good care of my ride so that it’s safe to ride and can take good care of me in return. One can neglect the maintenance of a car with few dire potential consequences beyond being stranded on the side of the road. Doing so with a motorcycle can mean your chain will break while doing 120 km/h on the highway. Locking the rear wheel at this speed is no fun, trust me on that one. 

It is that constant tension between risk and reward that I find fascinating. Riding a bike is cheap thrills, but if I am not careful it can mean serious injury or death. Having experienced the sudden passing of my mother just about two years ago, death is something that has been on my mind a lot since. Like most, I have experienced the mourning of a loved one and the subsequent grieving period, but it also created a deeper appreciation of life. I’m fortunate to have had a mother whose life’s work was as impressive as she was productive. Coming to grips with her legacy was both a surprise and a wake-up call, as she spent her professional  and personal life caring about others in a completely selfless fashion. As a result, dozens of perfect strangers came out to her funeral to pay their respects and show how much she positively affected them, and these were only a tiny portion of the people she was able to touch throughout her life. It made me realize that if I could accomplish even half of what she did, that would amount to a life well lived, but also that making a difference doesn’t have to be shouted from the rooftop in order to attract attention. If anything, I would say that it is more of a long, quiet slog behind the scenes, the results of which are not always obvious to anyone, especially not the person practicing selfless giving. I have become very grateful for what I have and am getting better everyday at appreciating the little things and people around me, but also much less afraid of pushing forward and stand for the things I believe in. Her legacy permeates everything I do.

It also triggered a profound desire in me to share my own experiences with others, in order to help them navigate the trials of life. I personally think that death is not something that we talk about enough in our culture, yet ironically that’s the only thing that absolutely 100% certain in life. We would be more comfortable with our own impermanence if it was a more accepted part of the culture and as a result, help us focus on what’s truly important for us. That’s why I enjoy so much practicing an activity that constantly reminds me of my own mortality. It’s not that I fear my imminent demise whenever I hop on the bike, but rather that the risk of something dramatic happening is constantly present in the back of my mind. While it may seem a little somber to think of motorcycling in these terms, I don’t think it has to be that way. The inherent danger is a sobering expression of reality and helps me stay grounded. It is a constant reminder to act in a manner that’s congruent with the person I am striving to be and a fantastic way to remind myself that I need to take the such actions that, if I were gone tomorrow, I would have no regrets whatsoever. A friend recently told me that being in these risky situations made us more aware and deliberate of our own behaviour, and I couldn’t agree more.

The parallel between this passion of mine and what I do for a living is that I find inspiration in being alone on the road, riding in a spirited fashion on backroads where very few other people venture out. It brings a different perspective to everything else I do as one literally looks at the world differently when seeing the world from a motorcycle. It makes my work better, more inspired and pushes me to work harder so I can take the time off to go on that next, 6000 km road-trip.

I recently completed a 4000 km tour of eastern Quebec, where a buddy and I rode around the Gaspé peninsula. Not only this is a magnificent part of the world, that I had no idea existed, but the trip was deeply fulfilling on a personal level. I learned more about myself than I would have in doing months of deep self-introspection. Being thrown into an unfamiliar environment without real safety net forced me to look at things from a different perspective and was a source of a number of epiphanies along the way. While on the road, I realized that we cannot fear what we understand. As human beings, if we make a genuine effort to understand the unfamiliar, all fear of the unknown instantly vanishes. Call me hopelessly naive, but it’s worth trying to gain a deeper understanding of the world around us, because at the very least we grow by learning new things and at best, we can be more intentional and bring more meaning to the things we all work towards, having the benefit of being a little more open to different perspectives, which in turn makes our work, and lives better.

As serendipity would have it I have recently stumbled on a little poem about riding. I’ll leave you with that as I think it perfectly encapsulates the essence of the ideas conveyed in this writing:


ODE TO A MOTORCYCLIST

I own a motorcycle because of a personal life choice.

One day when I am very old and when I can not ride anymore, it will be in my garage as a trophy of my memories.

I have met people who taught me something and have the same spirit.

I meet people now who get wisdom from me.

I get wet,

I get cold,

And I have been hot,

I was afraid,

I fell,

And I stood up,

I even hurt myself,

But also, I laughed out loud with the wind.

I spoke a thousand times with myself and still do.

I sang and shouted with joy like a madman,

And yes ... sometimes I cried.

I have seen wonderful places because of motorcycles.

I have made curves that even my dad would be proud of; other times I made curves full of terror.

I stopped many times to see a landscape.

I spoke with perfect strangers.

I go out with frustrations inside and return home with a feeling of absolute peace in my heart.

I always think how dangerous it is, knowing that the meaning of courage is to advance even feeling fear.

Every time I go up to my ride I think about how wonderful it is. I learned through gestures to communicate with other riders.

I spend money that I do not have, I gave up many things, but it's all worth it...

My bike is not a means of transportation but is a piece of machinery with wheels and “soul” that I am blessed with; it's part of who I am.

I love my friends and the joy of great people & motorcycles!

I would love nothing more than hearing how your own experiences shaped you. Leave a note in the comments or send me a note directly.

Arnaud Marthouret is the founder of rvltr and leads their strategy, visual communications and media efforts. He has helped numerous architects and interior designers promote themselves in their best light - pun intended - in order to help them run more effective practices and grow in a meaningful way.

If you have questions about this article or rvltr, or want to chat about your strategy and communications, you can leave a comment, share with a friend, or reach him at arnaudrvltr.studio.