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What does an organization do when it's trying to shred a soiled reputation? Just ask Comcast what "Xfinity" means. Americans have short attention spans, and since many of us rarely look up from a trending Tweet long enough to notice it's raining frogs, newly branding a product can be a simple way of bypassing any true improvements.
But it's not always just a show. New branding can work when it means a better service or product. Xfinity wasn't just an attempt to find new customers who didn't know it was synonymous with Comcast, it was part of a larger effort to improve customer service and the services themselves, services that truly have improved.
The city's department of Licenses & Inspections was taken to task by Philly.com writer, Brian X. McCrone for shelling out $50,000 to the advertising and public relations firm, LevLane. The main source of contention is in the department's most visible upgrade, simply changing "L&I" to "L + I." It sounds absurd, but rebranding the department is just the most visible component in a much larger marketing strategy to make the department more visible and accessible.
It's not the first time a city organization has contracted a PR firm to improve its reputation. In fact, it happens all the time and more public departments would be smart to get in line. Government agencies have a reputation for being out of touch with their audience because they simply are.
PR firms make money by helping other companies make even more. They understand the public in ways that CEOs and government employees don't. It might be hard to believe, but most Philadelphians probably don't know what L + I is. And if they do, they don't know how it's integrated with the city's 311 system or how to formally file complaints with the department. They may not even know they have a voice.
L + I's new brand is a fine start, but what remains to be seen is if the changes within the department will go beyond its new logo. If LevLane's work works, it translates into phone calls and emails, complaints. But if the department's improvements don't go beyond aesthetics, the increased visibility could only tarnish the department's already tarnished reputation.
It's been a rough couple of years for Philadelphia's aging buildings, or perhaps people are just paying more attention to the city's poor communication and inefficient agencies. After last night's heavy rain, part of iCandy's 12th Street façade fell down.
It's not clear yet if L&I will be looking at the structural integrity of the entire building, the existing façade, or reviewing the nightclub's recent renovations.
The popular Gayborhood dance complex, once a theater, is a patchwork of rooms and floors tethered together throughout the decades including a third floor roof deck. It's not uncommon to see such an unusual complex anywhere in the city, but after several collapses and the recent fire at the Suit Corner, claiming a building is just as "unique" as any other existing structure may not be enough anymore.
After the collapse of the Shirt Corner and the fire that destroyed the Suit Corner, much of Old City's blighted neglect is being called into question. Of course blight is nothing new to Philadelphia, even Center City. On April 11, a glass panel fell from City Blue's façade near 11th and Chestnut, an intersection home to more than a few nearly abandoned and possibly dangerous buildings.
Many of the problems seem to stem from interagency miscommunication. L&I, the Historical Commission, and the city's 311 response service tend to address sites after the damage is done. Property owners are saddled with the responsibility of connecting the dots between agencies that don't talk to each other, while less concerned slumlords are free to sit on their properties until L&I is forced to control the damage.
Old City has become the poster child for potentially dangerous situations, possibly because this prime and expensive address is still structurally an in-progress neighborhood.
Philadelphians tend to have blinders when it comes to architectural neglect. But if you really look at Old City, you begin to wonder why it commands rents nearly as high as Rittenhouse. You'll find several pricy loft conversions sharing a blocks with even more vacant and weathered buildings. Many of those that host galleries and boutiques in their storefronts are capped with unkempt façades of broken glass, upper floors riddled with black mold and dry rot.
Bureaucracy in any city's government is expected, although perhaps in Philadelphia it is more pronounced. But that begs the question, why are we and our city's own non-profit organizations so content with hindsight?
Perhaps it's not the job of organizations like the Preservation Alliance or the Historical Society to address blight amongst our aging buildings, but when those within the historical community vocally react to demolition permits, collapses, and fires, they open themselves up to scrutiny. I have to ask, "well ,where were you?"
Cataloging historic properties on a flashy website is a great preliminary step, especially those potentially threatened. It's a marketing move that raises awareness but it doesn't actively provide anything.
Where is the arm of these organizations with an inside track to the city's bureaucracy? Where are the local lobbyists that speak City Hall's unique language?
Waiting for the city to get its act together is a futile effort. All cities deal with poor communication, bureaucracy, and a staff of administrators who know that a job done well is a job that isn't secure. That won't change.
Whether it's a small neighborhood organization vested in safety or a larger non-profit that charges itself with saving our city's historic landmarks, no one can expect to operate successfully until they work with the city, not against it. Knowing that the city won't change, at least not anytime soon, enables these groups and organizations to take a proactive approach to addressing safety concerns and vacant or underutilized historic sites.
But across the board, they're reactionary in every effort and provide an absent alternative or solution. Where are we with the Dilworth House? Society Hill's neighborhood organization successfully blocked an effort to renovate, then demolish the arguably historic building, but that success is eradicated by its complete lack of resolve. Almost ten years after their efforts began, the building is still empty.
Perhaps this isn't the mission of these groups. Perhaps neighborhood groups are only capable of addressing immediate situations. Maybe larger non-profits aren't designed to proactively address the fate of the historic sites they catalog.
But likewise, it isn't the Historical Commission's job to save them. They're in charge of reviewing construction and demolition permits. Their bottom line is how these landmarks immediately and financially benefit the city. They stamp paper. Meanwhile L&I has proven itself incapable of addressing dangerous buildings across the city at large. They can respond to one hazardous site while another collapses, surrounding them in a cloud of ineptitude while they figure out how to do their job.
We're left with no authority, public or private, truly vested in securing the safety of aging and vacant buildings or saving our blighted, historically registered landmarks. If organizations like the Preservation Alliance and the Historical Society aren't prepared to watchdog our history, something needs to emerge. Otherwise buildings will continue to fall, deliberately or not.
The region needs a proactive preservation organization, one which understands the headaches the city poses, one with an inside voice. It needs an organization connecting owners of blighted and abandoned buildings to prospective buyers interested in unique and historic properties. Until then buildings will continue to fall for parking lots, history will be lost to paperwork, and we'll all keep scratching our heads in hindsight wondering, "how did this happen?"
Although some - myself included - have noted the iconic Shirt and Suit Corner's place in Old City's storied history, two recent events have signaled that their place in Old City should be history.
Not even a month after the Shirt Corner at 3rd and Market collapsed during a controlled demolition, its sister site, the Suit Corner, went up in flames. On Wednesday morning and two alarm fire sent one fireman to the hospital with injuries, but luckily no one was seriously harmed. The longtime owner, Gary Ginsberg was grief stricken as he watched his business go up in flames.
The business predated required fire safety measures including a sprinkler system, and the ball of fire that erupted near a window quickly overcame the entire building.
L&I may be burning the midnight oil in the months to come. Still struggling with the deadly collapse at 22nd and Market, facing public scrutiny over the Shirt Corner's collapse at 3rd and Market, this fire will inevitably lead to more questions about the safety of our aging businesses and homes.
After months of national publicity surrounding last summer's deadly collapse at 22nd and Market and its subsequent investigation, city agencies have streamlined the processes of interdepartmental communication and pulled out all the bells and whistles, placing police and fire officials at the site of every high profile demolition project in the city.
Does that sound right? Yes, with multiple agencies in charge of our public's safety indicated in last year's deadly collapse, that is the response we'd expect to see.
But it's not happening.
When today's demolition at the Shirt Corner got loud and dusty, we didn't see a streamlined response. We saw finger pointing, slum-shaming, and the same pass-the-buck rhetoric we saw last summer.
Luckily after today's unplanned collapse at 257-259 Market Street, the fallout was more hype than substance. It seems the media is the only organization that learned anything from the collapse at 22nd and Market.
Alterra Property Group claims it has the proper permits and that precautions were in place in case of an accidental collapse, but that didn't stop city agencies from stepping out in front of the debris to excuse themselves of any responsibility.
Most notably a policeman on the scene told reporters that the Police and Fire Departments were not informed of the planned demolition, but isn't informing the Police and Fire Departments one of the steps L&I takes when granting a demolition permit? Either L&I skipped that step of the Police and Fire Departments didn't file and schedule the permit properly on their end.
It sounds like every department in the city needs some basic training in communication and project management, or simply put, this city needs to get its ass in gear.
Six years after the Church of Scientology bought the Cunningham Piano building near 12th and Chestnut promising to restore the fifteen story building as Scientology's tallest location, it remains empty.
The church has a reputation for restoring historic properties, and then submitting visitors to tedious propaganda in exchange for a tour.
Currently, L&I is planning to take the church to Blight Court over the property. While much of Chestnut Street could certainly qualify as blight, the church's tax exemption leaves the empty building contributing absolutely nothing to the neighborhood.
Of course the Church of Scientology is no stranger to the courtroom, but often as a plaintiff. Funded by some extremely wealthy people, the church certainly has access to more money than L&I is willing to spend on a blight case. It's not hard to imagine a counter suit backfiring against the city.
That's not to say the church shouldn't be challenged. Counter suing L&I won't win the church any favors when it comes time to apply for permits either on Chestnut Street or their current Race Street site.
The controversial denomination has always been a source of conversation, and being charged by L&I is by far the most benign.
The church's founder L. Ron Hubbard who died in the 80s, lived his last years in exile, largely on a cruise ship owned by the church. Throughout the 70s and 80s the church received significant criticism from major politicians and media outlets denouncing their tactics, beliefs, and secrecy.
Three decades removed from its prophet's death with support from hundreds of famous celebrities, both members and not, has managed to improve the church's reputation. Once popularly considered a dangerous cult, few today know enough about the church to regard it as anything more than strange.
Protests are still common and one would certainly follow a renovation at the Chestnut Street site. Their rigid stance against psychology and psychopharmacology has inadvertently led to many depression related suicides.
Despite the fact that its current leader, David Miscavige grew up near Philadelphia, the church's local presence has never been profound. Funding their day to day operations comes from performing "free stress tests" at Market East Station and their Race Street site.
These stress tests typically yield negative results which the church then claims can be resolved by paying for more "auditing."
Membership in the church is not free, and their dues are not comprised of donations but required, a common source of criticism.
King of Queen's star Leah Remini recently caused a media stir by leaving Scientology. Leaving Scientology is purportedly difficult but not unheard of, and members who leave, leave quietly. However Remini, being a Brooklyn native, left with a bang.
When Remini left the church she didn't leave a D on Miscavige's desk, she took it several steps further, indirectly accusing him of murder. Miscavige's wife hasn't been seen in public for years and Remini filed a missing persons claim.
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| Miscavige wishes. |
Miscavige and Scientology's golden boy, Tom Cruise, attempted to diffuse public outrage by claiming Remini was a low ranking member, which did more to make the church look like a bunch of weirdos than end speculation.
Los Angeles Police Chief Christopher Dorner originally dismissed Remini's claim. Following public pressure the LAPD ultimately claimed that Michele was in fact alive and well, however the Hollywood rumor circuit is still whispering. It's not surprising considering Dorner's speculated ties to Scientology.
To date, Michele Miscavige hasn't been seen in public.
Meanwhile Remini is working on her memoirs which will likely focus largely on her experience in Scientology. She might not seem like the candidate for an autobiography. Like most Dancing with the Stars contestants, her fame has waxed and waned. But considering her stint in Scientology and her grit as an opinionated and true Northeaster, the book will undoubtedly be an interesting read, one that could potentially bring popular criticism to Scientology's front door.
For us, the Cunningham Piano building is just another Chestnut Street lady in wait. If the church was ready to build, they'd build. L&I's charge likely won't do more than force the Miscavige to relinquish the property, leaving it as it is, another vacant storefront on Chestnut Street.
Perhaps in the long run that outcome is the best. With Chestnut Street slowing following in Walnut's footsteps, a blank storefront capped with a church and fronted with free pamphlets campaigning against our city's own pharmaceutical industry might not quite be what Chestnut Street is becoming.
It all remains to be seen. As someone who loves architecture, the Cunningham Piano building, and native New Yorkers railing against Hollywood nonsense, I want a front row seat to the show.
With the tragic collapse of 22nd and Market four months behind us and every civil lawyer in town pointing grieving families at the biggest pots of dough, nothing has gotten any simpler.
In the real world this would be complicated. But this is Philadelphia where complicated is the status quo.
City Hall has ruthlessly kept its own Licensing and Inspection department out of the equation despite the fact that the office was the sole governing body in charge of granting this permit and despite the fact that one of its own committed suicide in the days following the collapse.
In the wake of the chaos, those in the city scrambled to find a warm body to pin this on. They struck gold with crane operator, Sean Benschop, high on pot and prescription pills at the time of the collapse. Our own mayor's office went as far as to pronounce Benschop's guilt before a trial date had even been set, before any evidence had been presented.
It certainly paints a picture of a town when its top leader is the first to cast the stone of mob justice.
While the city's managed to keep its nose clean despite many in the media calling for L&I's head, the latest complications may be aimed at the city's mismanagement.
OSHA and the Federal Department Labor have subpoenaed documents from the site's architect, Plato Marinakos. Marinakos has officially pleaded the Fifth Amendment, which always sounds shady.
While everything that surrounds this project and investigation just reeks of shade, with the mayor's office and City Hall throwing everyone under the bus, can you really blame Marinakos for resisting the urge to incriminate himself on behalf of the city's mismanagement?
Think of it like this. Any documents Marinakos employed in the demolition site would have been approved by L&I before demolition began, L&I would have their own copies, copies that should have been reviewed both times a 311 call reported a violation.
Marinakos' has reason to be skeptical of any investigation in which the city plays a role, a city in bed with L&I. In this instance his Fifth Amendment right may have been executed to consult with lawyers before Nutter puts him on the chopping block in the middle of City Hall.
The city doesn't want to be involved. In fact, it can't afford to be involved.
If L&I finds itself as part of prosecutors' investigations, development in Philadelphia ceases. L&I grants every license and permit for demolition and construction in the city. If that department were to be investigated by any agency, all projects would come to a grinding halt until the investigation ends.
What's worse, if the investigation were to find any misdeeds on behalf of L&I at this or any other project - and if their reputation is any indicator, it likely would - it begs to question when every other project in the city would have the green light to resume.
Would every project approved by L&I need to be re-evaluated by an independent agency? Would previous projects need to be investigated? How long would that take?
It would be a nightmare for the city. Considering this potential scenario, City Hall's ruthless efforts to keep L&I out of the discussion at all costs starts to make sense, however unethical.
The request for Marinakos' documents wasn't made on behalf of the city, it was requested by Federal investigators. If the Feds are sniffing around, this could mean more trouble for the city than it means for Marinakos, Benschop, or any private defendant named in this whole tragedy.
OSHA and the Department of Labor know that the documents used in the demolition of 22nd and Market should be on file with L&I. In the wake of Marinakos' Fifth Amendment claim, couldn't they just pull the same files from the city?
Well, they likely already have, or have already discovered that L&I didn't file anything. If they're going straight to Marinakos for documents, they're not going after Marinakos. They're trying to find out who screwed up at L&I.
