Jim Coyle took some shots at Royson and Hume today.
I agree with most of what he says, but at least we would have got some money for the waterfront and transit out of this bid - that is why I am disapointed (not to mention some momentum and excitement) In another column,
Ian Urquhart blames it on the fighting between the province and the federal government.
From the Star:
World's fair a vestige of the past
Nov. 4, 2006. 01:00 AM
JIM COYLE
Contrary to what some of my hyperventilating colleagues would have you believe, the decision this week not to proceed with Toronto's bid to host Expo 2015 had little to do with the size of the mayor's manhood, nor was it a declaration of our official status as municipal wimp or dysfunctional nation.
There were lots of factors for the bid sputtering out before Thursday's deadline, all of them far less personal, far less traumatizing, and having more to do with the time than the town.
For starters, Toronto's proposed bid was always founded on troubling motives.
As usual, it flowed in large measure, as all such recent local mega-endeavours have, from our perennial inferiority complex, the notion that we are not worthy unless the world can be enticed to beat a path to our door and tell us so.
It was also founded in a childish faith in the quick fix. Invariably, hosting an Expo or an Olympics is trotted out as a solution to many of our longest-standing problems. Land this and everything — most particularly the paralysis on waterfront redevelopment — would be fine.
But in this, proponents of the bid usually sounded like nothing so much as the man and wife in a rocky marriage who believed having a baby would be the solution to their woes. As big a deal as it was, it was not something done for its own sake, but rather as the desperate means to an end.
From the beginning, there was little on-the-ground enthusiasm for the Expo bid. It was a top-down, elite-driven affair. True, polls would occasionally suggest the public backed it. But these were usually based on the question: "Do you support or oppose Toronto's bid for the world's fair?"
This was rather like asking people if they liked fun and ice cream. A tweaking of the question to ask whether folks would foot the bill would likely — as in a Simpsons episode in which the townsfolk are alternately and rabidly in favour of both the highest-quality education and rock-bottom taxes — have produced different results.
Which brings us to the core reason — beyond even economics — for the tepid public engagement throughout the bid development process.
World's fairs are icons not of this century but of the last.
They were products of the new mobility provided by the advent of first automobiles, then airplanes. Just getting to them was an adventure in itself and an accomplishment to knock the socks off the neighbours back home.
Furthermore, world's fairs flourished at a time when any part of the world much beyond one's own county line was different and exotic. Other continents might as well have been other planets. It was rather as Bill Bryson describes it in his new memoir about growing up in 1950s Iowa: "Every place was different then."
Nowadays, globalization having done its homogenizing work, the commercial landscape of any major metropolis is a good deal like that of any other anywhere in the world. Much of the mystery is gone.
Most of all, world's fairs were the showcase of the 20th century's technological boom. People still gobsmacked by department-store escalators and television sets and refrigerator-freezers were treated to an imminent utopia of superhighways, space travel and all the wonders certain to make the living easy.
In their day, and in ways impossible to duplicate, the spectacle and its promise were quite literally awesome.
It's worth noting, moreover, that the most famous of such events coincided with significant social or demographic developments. The 1939 World's Fair in New York came as a public exhausted by a decade-long depression was desperate for a party and reason to be optimistic. The 1967 Expo in Montreal stands as the coming-of-age party for the baby-boom generation.
In his book on the 1939 World's Fair in New York, David Gelernter noted that world's fairs flourished during a time of faith in authority. The fair was, by definition, authoritative. It spoke of what was possible and what was coming. "And authority, once upon a time, meant a very great deal indeed."
None of those generators — the sense of adventure, the sense of novelty, the sense of a bright and promising future, the sense of a generation's pent-up need for a party or for acknowledgment, the trust in a benevolent authority — seemed to be firing at present sufficient to get the Toronto bid off the ground.
From the beginning, there had to be more to it — something defining, something inspiring — than an urban renewal project. By their very nature, world's fairs are founded on optimism and confidence — and the most ardent proponents of this bid sounded to be lobbying from desperation and neediness.
As to the criticism of David Miller, it does seem to miss the mark. It was the previous mayor who dreamed of panaceas and would have basked in the business of hosting the world. Miller is a mayor of more substantive core and practical outlook.
He knows incrementalism is not as sexy as extravaganza.
But that most of the time it's how the world works.
Jim Coyle usually appears Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.