Attempt to capture the character of a place and, if you're not careful, you soon resort to stereotypes and clichés. Or, if you're a little bit careful, you eschew the stereotypes and come out with something equally distorting.

Try to grasp the essence of Scotland and you soon find there are few universals. Scottish rural and metropolitan lives are very different; Scottish municipalism and entrepreneurship can be uncomfortable bedfellows. Scratch the surface and there are as many differences as common causes.

And yet there is a distinctiveness that comes from a host of distinctive histories, a story that is the weaving together of thousands of unique and individual stories. Possibly what Scotland has in a way that much of England lacks is a consciousness of story and identity - a culture in which authenticity is a concept that resonates instead of leaving us nonplussed.

Yesterday I was in Glasgow as part of New Start magazine's series of discussions on the future of regeneration. Our group was searching for what could be learned from the Scottish experience of people-centred placemaking.

What emerged, for me, was not a set of policies or approaches that have worked better north of the border. The Scottish Government and Scottish councils have played their part; so to, strikingly, have communities that have taken their futures into their own hands by buying up and running local assets for the common good (as in Gigha). But successful as many of these schemes have been, they're still the exception rather than the rule.

A more important part of the story seemed to be the awareness that there was a story. It came through loud and clear in our discussions, which focused less on the nuts and bolts of Scottish Government policy than on the importance of expressing identity.

One recurring illustration was the rethinking of the village of Neilston in East Renfrewshire. The process was very similar to that of the 'renaissance towns' in Yorkshire, even down to the recruitment of a 'town team' to oversee the process. But what happened was distinctly Neilston: the rethinking involved 'building on the village's collective memory, its citizens' imagination and the settlement's unique context'.

You could say that could happen anywhere, and you'd be right. I think what the Scottish experiences offer us, though, is a heightened consciousness of uniqueness. And where people are self-aware, they're more likely to build their own futures instead of letting others do it to them.

The role of the professionals and planners then changes. Instead of acting as creators, they become curators - people who allow others to express themselves and their creativity. And that's the way it should be.