Science Centers, The Future, and FUN...

Chesley Bonestell's visions of space travel were big, sweeping visions. Who wouldn't want to live to see that Future?


I worked for a science center for almost a decade. Even now, they remain a part of my life.

So needless to say, I have a stake in these places. It comes down to my belief that science museums can be vibrant, influential places. They can change perceptions and lives. How, you might ask?

Well, when I was young and working in science centers, there was that day's dogma--things like turning girls on to science, creating exhibit platforms that embraced the then-burgeoning Internet, and doing something with "the environment" (no one ever knew what that meant). Follow those prescriptions and that is the path to making a real difference.

Today, I'm older and the dogma is different-ish. Science centers now think they should do things like serve as a model for early-childhood learning, showcase hot-topic technologies like energy and medicine. Oh yeah, and keep doing something with "the environment."

There's nothing wrong with any of those ideas. They can become foundations for exhibitions or they can be infused into other exhibit concepts. But they are transient ideas, falling in and out of favor based on the technology, concerns, and consultant-speak of the day. There is nothing big, nothing lasting. Here's an example: the 1990's ideas of internet-based exhibits have been chased and, in so many ways, fizzled on delivery. In 2009, the Internet isn't an exhibit thing so much as a marketing thing. So, ask yourself: in ten years, how relevant will today's energy or medicine exhibits be?

Here's my premise: Science centers in their heyday and at their best sold two things better than anyone else: The Future and Fun.

Today's science centers miss that way too often. Instead they become corporate mouthpieces, chasing checkbooks by telling potential Big Money sponsors what they want to hear in the words they like hearing.

When I was a kid, it was a real treat to visit the original COSI. The place was a veritable funhouse. Experiences ranged from hands-on interactive things to funky dioramas to shows that you wouldn't find anywhere else.

Sure it was pure Leave It To Beaver...but it was also a projection of something cool. Where do you get these kinds of visions today?

And even in my youth, I knew the place was selling something more than amusement park-style escapism. There was a message there. I was a kid and all of this stuff was pointing to the future. An OPTIMISTIC future. One that would not only employ new technologies but one that would learn from the accomplishments and hardships and grit of people that had come before.

To my way of thinking, science centers today are devoid of that Future. One that is made fun based on BOTH the nature of the activities--the interactives, demonstrations, etc.--and an encompassing position of OPTIMISM.

The world we live in is cool. The people who have either explored or revealed or invented or (in some cases) dreamed up all the amazing things we know--they are themselves amazing. And tomorrow's world, the world of today's kids, is right there--ready for all kinds of new amazing things created by new amazing people.

That sentiment is at the heart of all the best science centers. Those are the places that inspire tomorrow's inventors and explorers, the engineers and researchers.

Pee #3 - PLACE

So what do we mean by Place? Consider the previous analogy, where Purpose is potency and Passion is romance. After all this sweaty-palms stuff, what do you have left?

For a lot of people, the answer is a resounding "nothing." But for others, this answer is, well, something--a relationship. It usually isn't what you'd expect. Maybe it's a lifetime of resentment and misery, or a quiet sort of contentment. For a lucky few, it's a neverending good time.

Inevitably, if there is a "relationship," the people involved find their place. In much the same way, great attractions find their Place too.

Place isn't about location, though location certainly plays a role. Take Rock City, for example. Located in Chattanooga, TN, this is one of those quintessential American establishments, a mom-and-pop roadside attraction that opened in 1932, in the midst of the Great Depression.

Rock City: High Atop Lookout Mountain

Back in its early days, Rock City was a scenic stop that included a hike to the top of Lookout Mountain, where Frieda Carter (wife of Garnet Carter, inventor of Tom Thumb Golf) had created a bucolic trek through natural and contrived rock formations. From this vantage point visitors could purportedly "see seven states."

Blame Global Warming...the most I've ever seen is four!

Rock City is picturesque, idiosyncratic, and a work of love. But plenty of attractions have the same attributes. What sets Rock City apart--what gives it Place--is the way it has positioned itself as this quirky, curious stop along I-75. It seems like everyone has heard of it. For some reason Rock City rises above other highway diversions.

Why? It's hard to tell. Certainly part of it is attributable to the 70-year old campaign of painting barns across the USA with the famous "See Rock City" slogan. But as importantly, Rock City delivered the goods for all those people who ventures from the Interstate...the anxious moms, the weary dads, all those high-strung kids who had been pent up in cars for hours on end, even the grandmas looking for birdfeeders and souvenir spoons.

One of the most successful marketing campaigns: The Rock City Barn!

What does it deliver? Rock City is a sweet, almost anachronistic oasis from the stress of highway travel. As it has grown, its retained its eccentricity. Nestled among Frieda's original rock garden are caverns with weird 50's-era day-glo storybook scenes. Ladies dressed like Mother Goose greet kids and a robot gnome acts as a barker at the entrance. For the Northerners making the pilgrimage to (or from) Orlando, this is the anti-Disney, devoid of corporate artifice and brand promotion. It just feels honest.

That's the Place that Rock City occupies. It's not just that it's a welcome respite from the noise. Rock City is trusted and it delivers. Folks know going in that this place has served generations of travelers just like them.

Circling back on the "Pee #1 -Purpose" post, we have Disneyland. You can argue that the Purpose of this attraction has drifted from Walt's original family park vision and today is something less certain, less definable. To many, Disneyland appears to have consciously violated its founding principle, adding big-budget thrill rides that deliberately split the family, forcing short guests, frail guests, and timid guests into backwater attractions.

Disneyland's Grad Nite--a tame but non-family affair--appeared in 1961.

Though some folks may think that such criticism is unfair, Disneyland's Purpose isn't entirely obvious. That said, Disneyland's PLACE is cemented. It is this legacy attraction. It has entertained millions of people for almost six decades. It is safe. It is all-American. For many families with kids, it is a rite of passage. For locals, it is almost like a neighborhood attraction, a place to go with friends or on a date. For people around the world, Disneyland is a place they trust (even if they don't trust the country it is located in), a place where they expect to be entertained in ways no one else can. Disneyland is an American landmark.

Place is about the relationship an attraction has with its audience. A Great Attraction successfully defines that relationship and in the process creates its Place.

Many attractions fail because the relationship they set out to create never takes hold. Like some lovelorn teenager, their efforts go unacknowledged.

Other attractions, with a history of success and an established Place, attempt to redefine the relationship, upping the ante, showing up one afternoon with a toothbrush and asking for a key to their girlfriend's apartment.

Sometimes this works, as it did when Walt Disney World added its EPCOT Center in 1982, hoping and praying that guests would be hungry for another day of Disney theme park-ing. That gamble resulted in the Mouse's Florida property becoming a multi-day destination in the minds of folks who otherwise considered the Magic Kingdom a drop-in-for-a-day park.

It seems that just as often, an attempt to redefine Place is refused by the audience. Disney's attempt to repeat its Florida success with the addition of Disney's California Adventure is an easy example. But it can certainly happen on a more local scale.

Consider COSI from "Pee#2 - Passion." This was a joint that was loved in its community. But a high-profile move into a colossal Arata Isozaki building, a completely new collection of whiz-bang exhibits, and (perhaps most importantly) a 60% increase in admission costs resulted in a huge backlash. The folks that COSI had established a relationship with didn't know what to expect from this new thing. 9 years later, COSI is still working to regain its footing.

Establishing an attraction's Place is not easy, but it is essential to Greatness. Once that Place is found, it can still be bobbled and lost.

Pee #2 - PASSION

To paraphrase Clara Peller: Where's the Passion?

If Purpose is attraction potency, then Passion is attraction romance. It is all the heady stuff that comes with young love. It's buying flowers and sending notes. It's thoughtful little gifts left on the car seat and playful little nibbles on the ear. It's inside jokes. It's ironing a blouse when no one asked you to.

What's Passion? It's what happens when the people responsible for an attraction sincerely care about what they are creating. You could say they've fallen in love with it, or you could say they've been drinking the Kool-Aid.

A few important things about Passion:

1. It can happen anywhere. Passion can happen in design. It can happen in operations. It can happen at the top of the organization or it can be a grass-roots thing that emerges at the most junior positions.

2. Passion can work miracles. It can make meager budgets seem big. It can make impossible timelines work.

When you consider what the WED folks were able to accomplish in the 1950's and 1960's, well, let's just say its insane by today's standards. Timelines were incredibly compressed. Staff was small, especially the core team. But incredible things were done because people cared. Consider It's a Small World and the work involved. Not just design but translating that to set fabricators, general contractors, robot-builders, lighting guys. Add in things like songwriting and audio production for this whole mess. And a new ride system.

Forget the tired "jokes" about the song, you'd be proud to have created a legacy attraction like It's a Small World.

It's a Small World was built in a year, from concept to opening. This accomplishment is a testament to the prowess of the Disney organization. But the real take-away is the result: It's a Small World remains one of the most pure, most resonant theme park attractions ever. The people who created it had passion.

3. Passion is contagious. It can spread within an organization. This happens when an individual or a group brings an energy to a new project. It can also happen when someone in operations demonstrates that they care and shows their colleagues the results of this kind of attention.

Passion can also "infect" the audience. One of the best examples of this is happening now at Holiday World in Santa Claus, IN. This tiny little park has created a buzz for itself by adding great attractions, maintaining a clean-as-a-whistle operation, and making the place a value for consumers. It is clear that the Koch family and the folks they employ really have a passion for what they do. And in the past eight years or so, the audience has caught on. I first heard about Holiday World through word-of-mouth, from someone who went and just fell in love--not from some marketing machine.

You can be scared of Santa and still get free Pepsi at Holiday World!

4. Passion forgives a lot of mistakes. When an attraction is lavished with attention and caring, folks give the little gaps and edges a pass.

One of the clunkiest attractions I ever visited was the original Center of Science & Industry--COSI--in Columbus, Ohio. It was this weird thing that had crammed its way into an abandoned county building. It opened in the mid sixties and over the next four decades collected the most random exhibits, from see-thru German women to walk-thru exhibits from the 1964 World's Fair to a freakish band of half-scaled Presidents of the United States to a display of every Cracker Jack toy EVER MADE. Oh yeah, they had a troupe of rats who played basketball also.

COSI: This is the future, at least as it looked in Ohio in the 1970's

It was cluttered and disjointed. Show quality was all over the map. Wayfinding was a mess and the adolescent kids in the audience always smelled like they needed deodorant. But you knew the people who were running this place cared. There were shows all the time. There was always something new (not always fresh) being added. The place was a great success in its original, pre-1999 form.

5. Passion matters to guests. This is the key thing to remember. Guests can smell passion and, as importantly, they know when planners, designers, and operators are just phoning it in. The gawd-awful reaction to Disney's California Adventure is in part because the people visiting can tell that this is not the loved-on Disney they expect but an off-the-shelf amusement park laid out by mall developers. I never visited the failed Wild West World in Kansas but its no surprise that place tanked. Just looking at the images the place screamed "County fair rides at theme park prices."

So, if Passion is so darn important, why don't the people that are investing millions of dollars on attractions "get it" and insist on it, just like they insist on ADA compliance and toilet seats? My answer: you can't insist on Passion. You only get that from certain folks and, even then, only when they can really feel it for the job they're working.

Today, you go to Orlando, or Southern California, and you'll find that demand for service employees is pulling resources like taffy. The volume of new attractions being developed internationally is doing the same thing with designers and engineers. Passion--where it exists--is being stretched thin. Toss in the fact that some things are really just hard to care about (you can only design so many attractions about XYZ characters, you can only bang the corporate gong so often before you go into a mild coma) and it is no wonder that so many projects are delivered stillborn.

Passion has never been easy. It's sometimes cheap. But if you can find it, you should sure as hell do whatever you can to keep from losing it.