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March 2002
Now
that Silicon Valley's stock no longer rides so high, we can say what we
always thought: it is not all it's cracked up to be. Despite press hype,
immigration, and an extraordinary infusion of venture capital during the
boom, Silicon
Valley never
made it as a world city.
To
be sure, San Francisco, the city at the northern end of Silicon Valley, is picture-postcard pretty. The
restaurants are exceptional. Within easy reach of the city, there is
hiking in Marin, skiing in the Sierra Nevada, sailing in the Bay. The area has, in Berkeley and Stanford, two
world-class universities. It is the leading centre for the world's newest
industries, software and biotechnology.
Nor
does anyone deny that Silicon Valley is an amazing commercial success story. The region is home to
blue-chip corporations such as Intel, Oracle and Hewlett-Packard; and to
the densest concentration of venture-funded startups in the US.
Until
recently, this business miracle was enough to sustain Silicon Valley's reputation as one of the world's
leading business centres. A typical example of
the hype: for Frank Quattrone, the CSFB banker
behind some of the most lucrative and controversial public offerings of
the boom years, Silicon
Valley was
"God's own country."
Rubbish.
And now I, and Silicon
Valley's
formerly muzzled critics, can say so without being told: oh, you just
don't get it. Strip off the gloss of transient boomtime
wealth, and Silicon
Valley is
revealed: geographically, culturally, socially flawed. It may be a fine
place to work all hours getting rich, but has less to offer to those
rediscovering their lives after the internet bubble.
For
a start, Silicon
Valley
itself is a featureless jumble of suburban office parks and mini-malls,
sandwiched between two freeways. There are some pleasant districts up in
the hills, but even they are irredeemably suburban.
I know several people for whom the prospect of leisure time in the Valley
is so appalling that they keep two apartments: a crashpad
close to their workplace, and an apartment up in San Francisco for weekends.
Ah,
yes, San
Francisco. The blandness of Silicon Valley would not be such an issue if San Francisco was a true metropolis; if there was a
West End to compensate for working in Slough. But San Francisco is a dysfunctional city, and here is
why.
It
is ungovernable. The city of cute cable cars has abandoned large swathes
of the city centre to 5,000 vagrants, mostly alcoholics, drug abusers and
the mentally ill. Homeless advocates, taking San Francisco's famed tolerance to ridiculous
extremes, defend their lifestyle choice. The mayor, Willie Brown, has
given up. Imagine New York, before Rudy Giuliani took office, except more corrupt and
lethargic.
Supposedly
cosmopolitan, San Francisco is in fact a collection of separatist
ghettos. Mexicans live in the Mission, Gays live in the Castro, Chinese out
in Sunset, and transient yuppies in the Marina; and they avoid eachother
as much as possible.
The
city is entirely lacking in glamour. The old money is inbred, and the new
money is too geeky. The pretty people are in Los Angeles or Miami; the intellectuals are in New York; and the carpetbaggers left as
quickly as they came. San Francisco's Clift
must be the only Ian Schrager hotel where
visitors pitch up with their tradeshow tote bags.
Culturally,
the city is still eating out on its reputation as home to Beat writers
such as Allen Ginsburg. That was nearly fifty years ago now. In the
meantime, San Francisco has produced Danielle Steel, and that
is about it. Of the wilder writers I know, most have moved down to Los Angeles, which is warmer and cheaper and,
believe it or not, culturally far more vibrant.
The
Ballet is world-class, I am told, but there is something cringing about San Francisco's pride in stuffy European arts, as
if it were still a raw frontier town hankering after the latest fashions
from Paris.
Well,
what about the alternative scene? The Yo-Yo man, a 300-pound mound of a
man who dazzles with yo-yos. Where else, a San Francisco booster asked, would someone feel so
free to express themselves? A typical San Francisco misconception. Personal discovery is
rarely interesting and, in most normal cities, robustly ignored.
None
of that would matter if one could be guaranteed a good dinner-party
conversation now and again. But few people entertain. Guests are
notoriously slack, calling up to say they are stuck at work, or leaving
at 9.30pm
because they have an early start.
And
conversation tends to the bland. What passes as witty in London or New
York is more likely to meet the reaction: that guy was interesting. Only
in San Francisco could interesting be a term of disparagement.
The
main reason: San Francisco is not a metropolis on the scale of London or New York. San Francisco city is home to fewer than 1m people; and the 5m people in the Bay
Area, as a whole are dispersed. And many inhabitants are unsure whether
they actually want to be a grown-up city one day: local politics is
dominated by neighbourhood groups which oppose
new building.
Oh,
yes, and the weather isn't that great. People think California, balmy.
And Silicon Valley does have a nicely Mediterranean climate. But evenings
in San
Francisco, which is closer to the icy ocean, are uniformly chilly; you can
never sit out in the evening; and summer days in the city are too often
fogbound and miserable.
So
why does this matter? Well, now that instant wealth has evaporated, Silicon Valley has to compete on new criteria:
transport, environment, entertainment, as well as business
infrastructure.
During
the boom, the region attracted thousands of highly-educated professionals
from the East Coast of the US, and from Europe. And many of them are leaving because
they are used to the buzz, wit, and bustle of a big city, and they are
bored. San Francisco never quite achieved critical mass.
And
those who will be left? The anti-social geeks,
and the obsessives for whom the dream of
changing the world is compensation for the lack of metropolitan
amenities. The people who made Silicon Valley, in other words. As for me, Silicon Valley remains the place to
build a new business, but I won't pretend any more I love the place.
Earlier Management
Today columns
Feb 2002: Downward
mobility
Jan 2002: Rash
predictions for 2002
Dec 2001: Keeping the talent
in its place
Nov 2001: Sales people
are not like you and me
Oct
2001: Europe: did anything happen?
Sep
2001: It is all about timing
Aug 2001: Stop calling me a
visionary
Jul 2001: Not so much a
recession as an extended vacation
Jun 2001: Fucked company
May 2001: The mighty are fallen
Apr 2001: Wireless, finally, I
believe
Mar 2001: Lessons from the last
time round
Feb 2001: Silicon Valley comes
down to earth
Jan 2001: Enterprise software,
fashionable again
Dec 2000: Jaded, saved by DivX
Nov 2000: Reality, distorted
Oct 2000: Maybe there is no new
new thing
Sep 2000: The tricks of raising
venture capital
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