‘Set the soil conditions’: 2 Alberta tech pioneers on what drives innovation

Episode Summary

When governments talk about building a tech economy, the instinct is almost always the same: more research, more strategy documents, more regulation, and more top-down planning. But according to two of the pioneers behind Alberta’s growing tech sector, that approach misunderstands how innovation actually happens.

“I don’t believe in a centrally planned economy where some level of government says, ‘These are the clusters that we’re going to invest in,’” said Brad Zumwalt, co-founder of Rainforest Alberta, which brings together tech entrepreneurs from across the province.

“That kind of organized, Soviet-style factory farming—I don’t buy that,” he said.

Instead, Zumwalt and his collaborator Jim Gibson argue that successful innovation ecosystems behave more like living systems. Their guiding metaphor—borrowed from Silicon Valley—is the rainforest: messy, competitive, and driven by constant interaction.

A decade ago, Calgary wasn’t short on entrepreneurs. What it lacked was density. Founders worked in isolation, rarely crossing paths or learning from one another.

“We weren’t barren,” Zumwalt said. But the city wasn’t meeting its potential, either.

The problem, they concluded, wasn’t a shortage of ideas or talent, but the absence of the conditions that allow innovation to compound. That meant creating spaces for “collisions,” encouraging risk-taking, and inspiring “trust”—a word often dismissed as soft but, in their view, economically decisive.

“If you want to talk about Silicon Valley, the reason why the Valley was successful and continues to be is that there is a current and connection of trust. When I pay things forward, I can trust that I’ll be recognized, or I can pass along my network without any worries,” said Gibson.

“Trust equals velocity,” he said.

In high-trust ecosystems, networks move faster, introductions happen more easily, and failure doesn’t end careers. By contrast, in low-trust systems, the instinct is to control, regulate, and slow things down.

The results, they argue, can be measured. Calgary now tracks more than 1,100 tech companies, up from roughly 700 in 2020. The focus isn’t community for its own sake, but outcomes.

“What is the needle?” Zumwalt asked. “For us, it’s jobs.”

Their goal is to reach 45,000 tech jobs in Calgary—a level that would make the city competitive with other leading North American centres on a per-capita basis. The city is currently approaching 30,000.

“What gives me the most concern is whether we’re putting conditions in place to give people the confidence to step into this and start up with their idea,” Zumwalt said.

The two are also skeptical of the common belief that universities are the primary engine of startup creation. Post-secondary institutions matter, Zumwalt said, but account for only about 15 to 20 percent of new companies. The big lift has to come from industry, particularly from mid-career professionals willing to leave stable jobs and take risks.

The critique extends beyond Calgary and Alberta. Canada, they argue, has strong economic “hardware” in the form of abundant natural resources, human capital, and rule of law—but is held back by outdated “software.” Regulatory drag, weak commercialization of intellectual property, a hesitant entrepreneurial culture, an unwillingness to celebrate commercial success, and unclear national goals are weighing on productivity.

“The software we’re running as a nation is failing to be competitive from a G7 point of view,” Zumwalt said. “That software has to be fixed.”

That framing also shapes their view of Alberta separatism. Frustration with Confederation may be understandable, Gibson acknowledged, but uncertainty repels capital and talent.

Fixing Canada’s regional divide, he argued, is “a fundamentally different conversation than blowing up the hardware.”