Be more offensive
Urbanists need to get out of the defensive storytelling trap.
There are many applications of “the best defense is a good offense.” When you talk about land use policy, street design, housing, and other infrastructure subjects, I want to encourage you to be more offensive.
One form of defensive storytelling is when you anticipate or receive criticism or skepticism and preemptively attempt to address or deflect it within the story. It comes across to an audience as weak. Another form of defensive storytelling is reacting to someone else’s story on their terms. You’ll see it daily on social media. Instincts lead people to holler “that’s not what we mean” as they retreat to the safety of their intellectual tribe. Urbanists fall into this trap as much as anyone else.
The opposite, let’s call it offensive storytelling, is setting the framework however you want. You choose the heroes, villains, conflicts, and resolutions of the narrative. That doesn’t mean an audience is necessarily going to agree with you, but an opponent will be forced to debate on your terms. The advantage is that you’ve already identified a hero, for example, and the reply-guy is in the unenviable position of recasting your hero as a villain.
Every election season features a campaign-ending faux pas of failed defensive storytelling. One of the biggest publicity debacles of the 2004 presidential election was the video of John Kerry saying "I actually did vote for the $87 billion before I voted against it." Five minutes later, the George W. Bush campaign took advantage of the storytelling gift.
Kerry couldn’t stop trying to explain (defend) himself on talk shows. First he claimed it was recorded during the middle of the night and he was sleepy. Then when the world learned it was a noon interview, he flailed about how sometimes change is good. It didn’t matter if Kerry was right or wrong. He could’ve gone on the offensive about why his change of heart showed maturity and an ability to learn from mistakes. Instead, Kerry remained in a defensive posture and Bush went on to win more electoral votes and states than he had in 2000.
In 2012, presidential hopeful Mitt Romney was recorded making a statement at a donor event that 47 percent of Americans would be happy with handouts and welfare, and therefore wouldn’t vote for him.
After the audio leaked, he had an emergency apology tour with the press and public, flailing about how his words were taken out of context. It didn’t matter if Romney was right or wrong. The more defensive he got, the more people perceived him as a smug elitist. He never recovered. In the end, fate winked at Romney when he received 47 percent of the popular vote, losing to Barack Obama.
The same thing happens talking about infrastructure. When you see it a few times, you’ll see it everywhere. Look up an op-ed about affordable housing or the gas tax. Read the opinion and then read the comments. The persuasive advantage goes to the person who wrote the op-ed. Not because they were right or wrong, but because they framed the story.
Here are five examples of I’ve allowed myself to react in defensive mode plenty of times over the years:
“No, I don’t think speed management is a war on cars.”
“No, I don’t think every American is going to start bike-commuting 20 miles to work.”
“No, you won’t be that late to work with traffic calming through the neighborhood.”
“No, I don’t think we should let America’s bridges fall down.”
“No, I don’t hate freedom.”
Learn from my mistakes. A defensive posture means you’re reacting to the opposition’s anecdotes and biases rather than starting with your own. People watching will assume the burden of proof rests on the person defending the new ideas.
The alternative is to be more offensive by telling new stories that put your intellectual opponents on their heels. Create your own heroes and conflicts and resolutions so that you’re the storyteller everyone else reacts to. Put the other guy in defensive mode.
Here are five ways I could’ve resisted the defensive impulse and been more offensive:
“Imagine if our kids could safely bike to school without adult supervision.”
“My friend is forced to drive one mile to the swimming pool because there aren’t sidewalks on the main road.”
“My wobbly grandparents feel comfortable riding bikes because they aren’t forced into 50 MPH traffic.”
“Your taxes pay for your own community to be ruined so someone living miles away can get to work a minute faster.”
“This is America. Let’s restore property rights and legalize housing.”
Like any behavior change, storytelling is a habit that takes practice. You’re a human, so it’s not hard. We’re built for this stuff. One easy way to get started is to write two lists of specific ways the built environment can help or harm.
Don’t worry about supporting data and references at this point. The more you add to your lists, the better you’ll get at it. In the spirit of “write what you know,” visualize the built environment where you live, where you take the family, where you shop, etc.
The good outcomes might be things like:
Enough space on the sidewalk for my wife and I to walk side-by-side.
Bike racks at shopping centers are close to the front doors.
People drive slower after the road diet.
The bad outcomes could be direct opposites, but not necessarily. They might be things like:
I can’t expand my restaurant because the County would require 30 more parking spaces.
Intersections near our elementary school are enormous because they’re designed for rush hour traffic.
Sidewalks just dead end because they’re an afterthought.
After you get a hefty list, go back and add in some statistics, articles, case studies, and anecdotes. Before you know it, you’ll be the most offensive member of your friend group.
Great reframe on those points you listed, this was helpful, thanks Andy!
I'm not an urban planner, but I guess a lot of them would relate to visionaries and activists (like Jane Jacobs). Maybe it's particularly important to frame our own stories when we're telling stories to frame a world an audience can only imagine. Perhaps it's bit like Jesus's parables about the kingdom of God--fresh ways of thinking about the future. To react to naysayers' stories keeps us and our listeners in familiar worlds.