brain drain

When I was working in Toledo, the city (or more accurately, the newspaper) was obsessed with brain drain, the idea that the city’s bright young people were fleeing as quickly as they could. (To which most outside observers would say: well, duh.)
I wrote a few stories about this fairly intuitive phenomenon while at the paper, and it was always amusing to see how the city fathers tried to react to it. (It usually involved tax breaks to industries that promised minimum wage jobs, or paying for a new sports facility to watch thuggish minor-league hockey.)
This story, however, nails the origins of the problem better than anything else I’ve seen. It’s an examination of the importance of a “creative class” of (primarily) young artists, writers, and professionals to a city. It goes so far as to claim that the number of gays and rock bands in a city are a better predictor of economic growth than the usual economic development crap cities lay out.
“Talented people seek an environment open to differences. Many highly creative people, regardless of ethnic background or sexual orientation, grew up feeling like outsiders, different in some way from most of their schoolmates. When they are sizing up a new company and community, acceptance of diversity and of gays in particular is a sign that reads ‘non-standard people welcome here.’ The creative class people I study use the word ‘diversity’ a lot, but not to press any political hot buttons. Diversity is simply something they value in all its manifestations. This is spoken of so often, and so matter-of-factly, that I take it to be a fundamental marker of creative class values. Creative-minded people enjoy a mix of influences. They want to hear different kinds of music and try different kinds of food. They want to meet and socialize with people unlike themselves, trade views and spar over issues.”
The folks who run places like Toledo would do well to read this piece and focus on smaller-scale improvements, rather than shoveling millions to hucksters promising big-box success.
(The final irony of one of those brain drain stories I wrote: it won a prize as Story of the Year from the Toledo Press Club. But when it came time for the awards ceremony, both of the story’s co-authors — Sam Roe and myself, both youngish educated folks — had already skipped town, he to the Trib, me to the DMN.)