Copenhagen, Tater Tots, and the Culturevolution
For all those design experts who yelp "But we aren't Copenhagen!"
"We can't have a bicycle culture here. We aren't Copenhagen."
"Bike lanes limit car freedom. It's a cute idea, but we aren't Copenhagen."
“Please. No one will ride bikes. We aren’t Copenhagen.”
Decades ago, the Danes started taking public health and wellness seriously. They understood the safest conditions for cars happened to also be the safest conditions for humans. The safest place to walk or ride a bike is also the safest place to drive. (Speeding traffic near sidewalks and bike lanes is dangerous, as any child can tell you.)
There's nothing controversial about labeling America as a car culture. It's not insinuating the population worships and adores the equipment. The average person buys and operates a car because public transportation systems are designed to encourage and promote car travel.
Most Americans have always lived in a car culture, but aren't familiar with important truths about urban mobility (e.g. purpose of public streets).
Surveys consistently reveal that Americans think bicycling sounds nice, but is impractical. People respond favorably, almost longingly.
Adults have fond memories of riding to the playground, to the library, to soccer practice, or to a friend's house.
So what's holding us back from taking public health and safety seriously?
What's preventing us from connecting the dots from transportation to health?
Americans have self-limiting beliefs about infrastructure. That’s what holds us back.
Those of us who want to save lives and expand freedom of mobility get overwhelmed by cultural norms. So how do we help our fellow Americans realize the dream of a bike-friendly community is within reach?
As a way of encouragement...a hopeful reminder in the face of opposition…
I'd like you to understand how developing a bicycle culture is exactly like introducing a new product to the frozen food aisle in your local grocery store.
Now serving: bicycle culture
In the 1940s, a couple of brothers in Idaho were in the potato business (of course).
They got in on the budding frozen French fries market, but were annoyed by all the potato scraps that got wasted when machines cut fries. All that discarded merchandise every night? There had to be a better way. So they acquired a new machine to mash up all those scraps into little potato blobs and then froze the blobs.
Tater tots were born.
But then the revenue challenge: who would convince the public to buy tots when fries were already a strong product?
The brothers, convinced they had a money-maker on their hands, snuck into the annual potato convention held in Miami. (Apparently, there was a potato mafia in the 40s. I'm hoping for a Netflix documentary.)
Anyway, they showed up to the event, and found a way to get their new product on the dishes of attendees. Some attendees saw potential.
Some tater tots made their way into a few restaurants. Word kept spreading as bellies kept filling.
Eventually, the brothers made a name for themselves and sold the company to Heinz. Tater tot sales are now in the billions of dollars every year. Everybody knows tater tots. It feels like tots have always been around.
Seth Godin is a writer with a helpful description of this type of cultural evolution.
A new product — or song or phrase or idea — is only used by a tiny group of people in the beginning. The fringe. The fringe population who see differently than the rest of us.
But after a while, the fringe group expands because human beings love being part of an inner circle or clique. So the product spreads a bit to a slightly larger group who want to be part of something new.
Eventually, the product is so hot it’s on shelves across America. It makes the leap from being exclusive to mainstream.
And then a funny thing happens. After a product or idea lives in the mainstream consciousness for long enough, people think “well it’s always been here” or “it’s always been that way.”
Thanks to a fringe group of chefs and restaurant owners, tater tots feel as if they're as old as the potato itself.
Young children in Copenhagen may not be aware of the car-to-bicycle cultural shift decades ago. It's natural to look around and shrug, “It’s always been this way.”
40 years ago, Copenhagen looked a lot like Everywhere, USA. Cars everywhere. Bikes on the fringes. Intense debate over the purpose of streets and public space.
You'll meet fierce resistance in your efforts to improve American culture. So when you feel discouraged...
Remember Copenhagen. Remember the tots.
Both are amazing, and both owe their success to a lunatic fringe.
