The X, Y and Z of marketing Adelaide

In the early 1990s, I went to a seminar on how to communicate with Generation X.

In retrospect it seems strange, not just because I’m actually a member of X, a term popularized by Canadian writer Douglas Coupland.

Most of the lessons have faded over time, but I do remember in the finale a flashy ‘grungy’ guy with long, straight hair playing some Seattle-esque rock on a guitar. At the end of his song, he raised a fist and unfolded his fingers, revealing an “X” on his palm.

The idea of ​​X began, ironically in retrospect, as the concept of a generation that did not want to be defined. Naturally, the marketers took over and used the concept to sell things to people born between the mid-1960s and the 1980s or thereabouts.

Of course, the idea that everyone, born anywhere between certain dates, has immutable characteristics is mostly nonsense.

However, in Western countries there were some common experiences. Generation

In the classic 1994 Gen X movie Reality bites, the bewildered hero Lelaina Pierce, played by Winona Ryder, encapsulates the ambivalence of her generation. In a graduation speech in the opening scenes, she takes a closer look at the Boomers, explaining that it’s no wonder her generation is “not interested in the counterculture they invented, as if we haven’t seen them unpack their revolution for a pair of running shoes ”.

She continues: “But the question remains: what are we going to do now? How can we repair all the damage we have inherited? Fellow graduates, the answer is simple. The answer is… The answer is: I don’t know.’

And the crowd cheers.

Just as the serious Lelaina had her documentary films commercialized and shortened for an MTV-like cable channel, Gen X was swept along by the inexorable forces of time. Generation Responsible for everything.

The marketers continued to label generations with new letters and designations – the Y’s and Z’s, and now they are trying to live up to ‘Alpha’.

In Adelaide, governments are focused on the end of the generational alphabet and trying to figure out how to attract and retain younger generations here to fuel what they hope will be a boom in defence, aerospace and other high-tech industries.

Like marketers, their pitch is broad: an informed assessment of what would convince younger generations to move here.

However, I wonder whether the marketing pitch is increasingly out of step with the investment focus or behavior of the state.

Previous Prime Minister Steven Marshall wanted to understand what could attract young professionals to Adelaide, taking inspiration from a KPMG report on what it takes to be a ‘magnet city’.

The report examines once-troubled cities that have transformed their economies.

It was written before COVID, but it still seems broadly relevant. It makes clear that successful magnet cities have a ‘specific relationship’ with the young wealth creators who choose to move there.

“Simply creating a start-up space and a few new apartment complexes will not attract new young people to a city that has nothing else to offer,” it says.

“The appeal of a city must be authentic. Simply coming up with a new city identity is not enough; it must be based on the truth or on the city’s heritage.”

Young professionals in magnet cities want interesting places to live and visit, especially in “urban centers” or in neighborhoods connected to the urban core by fast and convenient public transportation. The design and sustainability features of homes are just as important as the location; Many prefer to live in mixed-use neighborhoods with restaurants, bars, shops, offices, research space and studios.”

The evolution of the Labor government’s “magnet city” approach is slick and compelling. The ‘New State of Mind’ campaign presents a city and state that is sustainable, hospitable and interesting.

In this kind of marketing material about Adelaide you often see people cycling – sometimes without the mandatory helmet.

It’s a small point, but emblematic.

If we believe the marketing wisdom about the younger generations, there isn’t much evidence that we are building a city that will attract and retain them here.

Our public investments are still focused on roads and vehicle infrastructure, with a small budget for pedestrians and cyclists.

Our approach to urban heritage – most evident in the Crown & Anchor debacle – does not build on our history, culture and character. It often does the opposite.

We obviously need a strong economy to attract young professionals, but if we want them to stay, we need something that money can’t buy: authenticity.

Notes on Adelaide is a weekly column that reflects on the city, its strengths and weaknesses. You can read more comments about Adelaide in the print editions of SALIFE.