Open innovation council needed
By Gerry Klein, The Star Phoenix May 21, 2009
For the majority of Saskatoon's first century, the city's economy was inextricably linked to agriculture.
The success of mining in the 1970s helped build a streak of independence and fuelled an industrial spurt on the northern fringes of the city, but even in the 1980s, when drought brought grief to the land, the pain was felt through much of the city.
Agriculture is still important -- particularly when one considers it in its broadest aspects, with the global reliance on specialized farm equipment and fertilizer, two areas where Saskatoon is a world player -- but most Saskatoon residents are well-insulated from the price of grain or the amount of rain.
Although natural forces helped with this diversification, much of the credit must go to civic and provincial officials, local business leaders and an unusually close relationship among these major players and people at the University of Saskatchewan who, since its birth, tailored its research and curriculum to strengthen economic opportunities.
Because of the lack of tall skyscrapers associated with large head offices, a predominant industry or the great confluence of government or administrative buildings, it's easy sometimes to miss the importance of Saskatoon's greatest success. That is providing the critical link in a growing number of disciplines, from farm machinery manufacturing to research in nanotechnology to providing expertise in space technology.
This diversification of expertise is unusual for such a small city as Saskatoon. In a column in Tuesday's Toronto Star, David Wolfe, the Conference Board of Canada's 2009 CIBC scholar in residence, pointed out that historically, larger cities have tended to have more diverse economic bases with innovative economies, "while medium and smaller-sized cities were more specialized in relatively fewer industrial sectors."
When those industrial sectors thrived, as was the case with the auto sector for decades, smaller cities such as Oshawa and Windsor could thrive and support a quality of life that was hard to match. The same could be said of Calgary with oil, through much of its first century, and Halifax with shipping.
But when those industries took a hit, the host city's economy would be threatened.
That can be the case even in very large cities. Toronto, with all its diversification, was still heavily reliant on the auto sector and other manufacturing. In his column, Wolfe suggests the current "reset" in the world economy, which has dealt such a blow to Toronto, is an opportunity for the city's leaders to reorganize policy-making in order to get business, social and political actors to focus on a diversified innovation agenda so Toronto can come out of the economic malaise stronger and weather any future storms.
It's an idea Saskatoon should steal.
Unlike Toronto, Saskatoon has a host of academic, civic, business and provincial leaders who are already pulling in the same direction. What this city is missing, however, is a formal mechanism to monitor successes, address failures and quickly adjust to opportunities or challenges.
Wolfe suggests the creation of the Toronto City Summit Alliance, which brought together many of the regional players to discuss a multitude of initiatives, is taking that city in the right direction. But such initiatives typically only come about in times of crisis and they fall to the wayside when times are good.
Kent Smith-Windsor, executive director of the Greater Saskatoon Chamber of Commerce, pointed out this trait exists here as well. The community (or, better said, communities) came together when they had to, for example, to land the Canadian Light Source or InterVac and when the chamber helped push city hall to develop a productivity strategy that is the envy of the nation.
But these efforts are ad hoc, opportunity-based and mostly kept informal.
Similarly, the U of S and the city hold regular joint meetings to discuss items of similar interest, but they are informal and closed.
Often there are great spurts of achievement that flow from these relationships. When the CLS needed more money to push the U of S's bid over the top, city hall stepped up with another $1 million. Similarly, as Smith-Windsor points out, when the InterVac initiative seemed to stall, city council again came to its rescue.
But because these initiatives lack the formality of regular and open meetings, quick changes in direction are often seen as retreats or, worse, conspiracies.
Such is the case, for example, with the renewed push to capitalize on Saskatchewan's strength in uranium, both in resources and research expertise. Also, the push to move the art gallery to River Landing is characterized by some as a backroom deal to disrespect the memory of Fred Mendel rather than a logical attempt to move past the immovable obstacle of a federal government that would never support a renovation project.
Sometimes the backroom dealing is essential -- such as when the city stickhandled past community activists, local and out-of-town bidders and three levels of government to land the St. Mary Community School project in order to help a seriously disadvantaged neighbourhood.
But the darkness has its costs. When the wrecking ball comes down on the oldest Catholic school in the city, a piece of Saskatoon's soul will die.
The problem with the informality and backroom meetings, Smith-Windsor points out, is the public often doesn't know the rules of the game or even what winning or losing looks like. If a win from having the CLS is seen to be making Saskatoon the only centre for nanotechnology and the Mayo Centre of Canada, then being a critical link in these areas is a loss.
That clearly is not the case.
If Saskatoon had regular open meetings with key stakeholders and the public, and included annual reviews of strategies, successes and redirections, there is no telling what could be achieved.
And there would be a lot less suspicion generated in the process.
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