The Scrapbook takes a fairly dim view of the field known as “economic development.” We’re not opposed to governments facilitating economic growth when they can, but there are very few things government can do, proactively, to spur economic activity—though we can think of many, many things government can refrain from doing to achieve that goal.
Among the most risible efforts in this field are attempts to “brand” states or other localities. Millions of dollars every year (so we would guess) are spent on these branding campaigns, but the results can’t be reliably verified. We think, for example, of the television ads for American states as vacation spots: Minnesota might be a terrific place for a vacation, but has anyone ever taken the family there as a result of the “Only in Minnesota” TV ads? The phrase “Virginia is for lovers” is catchy, for sure, and the The Scrapbook can say with some authority that Virginia is a very nice place for lovers, but we wonder if the state’s famous tourism slogan—displayed on countless road signs and T-shirts and bumper stickers since 1969—has ever persuaded a single lover to vacation in Virginia instead of, say, Maine or
the Poconos? The logic of government tourism branding has now been taken to a new level in Scotland. You wouldn’t think Scotland—the home of golf and single-malt whisky, the land of Highland clans and ancient castles and Edinburgh’s Royal Mile—needed much help in the way of tourism advertising. But politicians and bureaucrats can always find a reason to spend money that doesn’t belong to them on dubious projects whose success can’t be corroborated.
Just so, a Tory member of the Scottish Parliament recently proposed giving some tourist attractions “dementia-friendly” status. “A national register of attractions” could encourage “businesses to improve their facilities, positioning Scotland on the tourism map as a dementia-friendly destination,” we learn from the Glasgow Herald.
Says MSP Rachael Hamilton: “Creating a list of accredited dementia-friendly tourist sites would be of benefit to everyone. It would make a day out or short holiday for those living with the condition far more accessible and enjoyable, and of course would be of benefit to their carers. And it would immediately open the market to 1.7 million people in the U.K., if you consider each visitor with dementia would likely have a carer accompanying too.”
What sort of things would make a site “dementia-friendly,” we wonder? “Dementia-friendly improvements to attractions could include quiet rooms for patients to take ‘time out’ during a visit, clearer signs for directions and advice, and changing the colour of doors to make them easier to locate.”
The aim of going after dementia patients’ money strikes us as pretty unseemly, but the scheme’s supporters are straightforward about it. “The number of people whose lives are impacted by dementia make up a significant part of the tourism market,” says Jim Pearson, director of policy and research at Alzheimer’s Scotland. “It makes business sense to be able to see if you can offer a good and positive experience for those visitors. Baby boomers are the richest generation, and that’s the group coming to the age where dementia is an increasing concern.”
Oh, good grief. The idea that an assemblage of politicos in Edinburgh thinks the families and caregivers of dementia patients across Britain and the rest of Europe actually need their help in determining where to vacation is laughable—a sadly typical instance of bureaucrats believing they make important contributions to economic growth by dreaming up preposterous publicity campaigns. But this is the sort of absurdity to which government-driven “economic development” inevitably tends.
If these official do-gooders will just do their jobs—fund basic government services and ensure public money doesn’t get wasted or stolen—we wager that plenty of dementia patients will vacation in Scotland, and plenty of lovers will find their way to Virginia.
