Danehy

In defense of Regina Romero (yeah, you read that right): A couple of
weeks back, I chided our loquacious, yet seldom-compelling member of
the City Council for having used the term “creative class.” In her
defense, she did not make up that stupid-ass term; she obviously just
heard it from someone else and was passing it along.

I got a bunch of e-mails from people aghast that I was unfamiliar
with the term/social movement/absolute world-changing phenomenon. Like
many people, I read Richard Florida’s The Rise of the Creative
Class when it came out several years ago. But then, like most
people with a freakin’ brain, I dismissed it as shoddy scholarship and
elitist nonsense, and I did so several years ago minus the exact amount
of time it took to read the book. I’m a little bit stunned and a whole
lot disappointed that it’s still being taken seriously by anyone.

For those of you fortunate enough to have missed it, here’s the gist
of Florida’s thesis:

• There’s this really special group of people known as the
Creative Class. (If you have to ask if you can be a part of it, you
can’t.)

• Inside this Creative Class is a subset of extra, extra cool
people known as the Super-Creative Core. This Super-Creative Core is
surrounded by a creamy nougat layer of (merely) Creative Professionals.
Along with the assorted nuts known as Bohemians, they make up the candy
bar that fuels both innovation and yuppie migration these days.

(Bohemians used to be known as Deadheads, but then Jerry Garcia died
in 1995. Most of the former Deadheads have heard about his death by
now, so they’ve stopped driving from city to city in Volkswagen buses
and renamed themselves Bohemians.)

• Cities that actively cater to this Class of people will
prosper as more Class-y people will move there, making those who are
hip enough to be aware of this migration (Creative) Class
Conscious.

• The cities most likely to attract these folks can be
mathematically identified by using the author’s Creativity Index, which
uses in its formula four equally weighted criteria—the
concentration of Creative Class people already living in the area; the
concentration of high-tech industries in the area; the number of patent
applications filed per capita (no, really!); and, finally, the
concentration of same-sex couples living in the area.

He believes that gay people tend to live in places that are more
accepting and open to their lifestyles. (He uses the term “tolerance.”)
He writes: “Places that score high on the Tolerance Index are very
likely to have a culture of tolerance.” Just like his true
believers.

I give him credit for one thing: He has managed to turn his circular
logic into a cottage industry. He rewrote the original book a couple
more times under the titles Who’s Your City? and The Flight
of the Creative Class. He argues that people moving to Austin,
Texas, proves his thesis, conveniently ignoring the facts that Texas
aggressively courts business, and has great weather, relatively low
unemployment and no personal state income tax.

He also talked his way into a gig as the head of the Martin
Prosperity Institute, a think tank at the University of Toronto. He is
apparently paid more than $340,000 a year to convince the people of
Toronto that they’re smart for living in Toronto.

A friend of mine suggested that since I’m relatively intelligent and
educated, and I’ve written things for which people have paid
actual American money, I, too, could be a part of this Creative Class.
I didn’t even have to tell him that I also have gay neighbors, of whom
I am not only tolerant, but friendly enough to trade Bette Midler stuff
back and forth.

My initial response is the Groucho Marx thing about not wanting to
be a member of a club that would have me as a member, but it goes
beyond that. I would say that the greatest thing about the where and
when of my existence is that I’m free to be an individual. I don’t want
to be a part of any class; that’s lame and self-serving.

However, it’s easy to see why some people are willing to go that
route. Lots of people want to be told that they’re special, that
they’re valuable, and that they can do things that only a handful of
people can do. It’s also quite obvious that many of the people who have
e-mailed me believe themselves to be a part of this Creative Class, and
that their being a self-proclaimed artist will somehow make Tucson a
better place to live. Maybe it will; maybe it won’t. Most importantly,
getting elected officials to buy into this Creative Class nonsense will
buy a lot of clout for the lucky (ostensibly Super-Creative) few.

One more thing: I did not call Councilwoman Romero stupid. I said
she says stupid things, which she does. A lot. The other day, she
referred to graffiti as “aerosol art.” Even some Creative Classers
would agree that’s stupid. People who do graffiti are not artists;
they’re vandals. They’re not misunderstood; I understand them
perfectly. They’re knuckleheads who need a serious ass-whuppin’.

But as long as they don’t spray-paint gay slurs on the wall, Florida
would probably consider them part of his Creative Class.

This article appears in Sep 10-16, 2009.