Getting it wrong as a region

By Nate McMurray

(Originally posted to Facebook)

I was out doing some late Christmas shopping and saw another “Visit Buffalo” advertisement. It was well done—tasteful, charming, familiar. The Eternal Flame. The Albright-Knox. Frank Lloyd Wright houses. Chicken wings. All the greatest hits.

But something was missing. Something glaring.

Niagara Falls.

Not tucked in the corner. Not referenced. Not pictured. Just gone.

And this isn’t a one-off. I’ve been saying this for years. Buffalo media will write epic poems about some small waterfall in Williamsville, but barely mention the greatest tourist attraction on Earth—twenty minutes away. One of the most recognizable places on the planet. A name known in every language.

And if you doubt that, ask Ontario. They’re about to invest billions more on their side of the Falls. Billions. Because they understand what they have.

Before anyone jumps in to say, “Well, the New York side is garbage,” let’s be honest about the history. It wasn’t always this way. For most of the last century—really, for most of the last two or three centuries—the American side was the preferred destination. Look at the classic photographs. Look at the postcards. Prospect Point. The American Falls. The iconic views everyone remembers.

What changed wasn’t geography. It was policy.

Over the last few decades, New York has exercised a massive lack of control over the resources generated by the Falls. Casino revenue leaves the region. Hydropower revenue leaves the region. Even Greenway money that originates in Niagara County gets reallocated—often southward—invested in Buffalo instead of Niagara Falls.

Contrast that with Ontario, where the vast majority—if not all—of the money generated by Niagara Falls stays in Niagara Falls and the surrounding region. And the results speak for themselves.

I know a thing or two about Niagara Falls. I know it ranks alongside the Great Wall of China and the Great Pyramids in total visitors. That’s not hype—it’s reality. And it’s in our backyard.

But because of a municipal boundary—because Niagara Falls sits in Niagara County—it’s been treated like alien territory. Something adjacent, but not fully embraced. Something to reference when it’s useful, and ignore when it’s not.

I talk to visitors all the time through my work. Most of them—yes, most—don’t even know where Buffalo is. They didn’t come for Buffalo. They came for Niagara Falls. Buffalo is, at best, a nearby place they might pass through.

And you might think, “Well, that’s exactly why Buffalo needs the advertising.” But then explain this: Buffalo is more than happy to use the name “Buffalo Niagara” when it helps. The airport. Economic development branding partnerships. Every shared identity imaginable.

Yet when it comes time to market the region to the world, you don’t even see a picture of Niagara Falls.

That isn’t just shortsighted. It’s shameful. It’s stupid. It’s backwards. And it’s parochial.

There’s a phrase for this: the narcissism of small differences. Small communities accentuating minor distinctions and fighting over resources instead of recognizing shared value. That’s exactly what’s happening here.

If Niagara Falls, Ontario invested most of its revenue in Kingston, or Ottawa, or Fort Erie, or somewhere else entirely, people would lose their minds. And they’d be right to.

Niagara Falls is a treasure. The whole world knows it. The only people who seem not to get it are the ones closest to it.

And until that changes, this region will keep underselling the one thing it already owns—and pretending that somehow makes sense.