The Attraction Illusion

Why so many places still market themselves by mousetrap

In our previous article, we explored the curious affliction known as visitor-centric narcissism—the irresistible urge of places to shape-shift into whatever they think the latest visitor wants. Out of fear of missing out, destinations leap onto every new trend, from TikTok aesthetics to AI-curated playlists, resulting in marketing as mismatched as lipstick on a pig. Picture quaint European heritage towns suddenly doing their best impression of a Berlin club night—just to woo Gen Z.

Seth Godin calls this meatballs sundae: technically possible, but no one's coming back for seconds. By desperately chasing trends, destinations often betray their true character and end up attracting visitors who neither appreciate nor respect the place for what it is.

At its heart, marketing is about managing expectations. And while shortsightedness is a common marketing sin, another, more insidious fallacy haunts destination marketers everywhere: the mousetrap fallacy.

It's the inverse mistake of trend-chasing. This time, it's not about pretending to be something you're not, but about assuming that what you are is so obviously brilliant, the world will just show up.

The term comes from a quote often misattributed to Ralph Waldo Emerson: "Build a better mousetrap, and the world will beat a path to your door." Spoiler: it won't.

In tourism, this fallacy often starts with love. People who work in place marketing genuinely care about their destinations. And rightly so. At its best, city marketing is a reflection of the deep, emotional bond between residents and their home. From "I ❤️ NY" to "Keep Austin Weird," great place branding springs from affection.

But affection can also blur perspective. The more you love a place, the more you risk seeing it as the centre of the universe. From there, it's only a small step to believing that your craft beer scene is "world-class", your sunsets are "beyond compare," and your food trucks deserve Michelin stars.

I've worked with cities from North America to Polynesia, and I've lost count of how many claim to have the best coffee, the most vibrant downtown, or the friendliest locals you'll ever meet. But if everyone is "world-class," then world-class becomes meaningless.

And then there's that old chestnut: "A paradise for foodies." If your destination still leads with that line in 2025, you might as well be handing out forks with no plate.

We need to stop marketing as if people are mice. Your destination is not a trap. The better the bait, the more it feels like manipulation. Attraction shouldn't be about luring people in—it should be about resonance, about shared values, about invitation rather than enticement.

Real marketing starts not with what you love, but with what your audience is ready to receive—without betraying your soul in the process. It's not about building better traps. It's about opening better doors.

Our advice: imagine your city not as a mousetrap but as a garden gate — not slammed shut with bait behind it, but gently swinging open, revealing something that only the right kind of guest will see bloom.

- FRANK CUYPERS

This is an article in a series about Place Identity. In previous ones we spoke about The Sea Of Sameness, Meatball Sundae and Visitor-Centric Narcissism.

Those who can't wait: in 2 or 3 weeks we will come up with solutions on how to avoid all these classic traps.