We rarely celebrate a city for deciding not to build an unnecessary road, not to extend expensive infrastructure or not to construct a public facility it won't be able to maintain. There's no groundbreaking ceremony for an avoided liability. But sometimes the smartest financial decision a city makes is recognizing that it doesn't need another thing to own.

I’ve been thinking about the way we define political courage. When an elected official takes a popular position, supporters often describe it as courage. When that same official makes an unpopular decision, even after publicly explaining the reasoning, the conversation can quickly turn to accusations of betrayal. But popularity and principle are two different things. A popular decision can be thoroughly justified or completely irresponsible. The same is true of an unpopular decision. Shouldn’t the real test be whether someone applies their principles consistently, considers the evidence and is willing to explain the consequences? I think we’d have a healthier local political culture if we spent more time examining the reasoning behind decisions instead of measuring every vote against the volume of the applause.

There’s an old joke that people eventually start looking like their dogs. Cities might eventually start looking like what they tolerate. One neglected property becomes five. One ugly sign makes the next one easier. One beautiful storefront makes the ugly one beside it suddenly unacceptable. Standards are contagious.

If autonomous vehicles really can get down near $30,000, I wouldn’t be asking whether car dealerships survive. I’d ask a much bigger question: How many privately owned cars does America actually need when a car can spend its day transporting people instead of spending 95% of it waiting for its owner? Even a small change in that answer eventually shows up in car sales. Then dealership acreage. Then apartment parking. Then office parking. Then garages. Then land values. That’s when a transportation technology starts becoming a real estate story.

The phrase “Nobody has ever done that before” can be either the beginning or the end of a conversation. I've noticed how much that depends on the culture of the organization. Some people hear it and become curious. Others hear it and immediately start looking for the reason it won't work. Over time, employees, entrepreneurs and developers figure out which reaction they're going to get. And they adjust what they're willing to propose.

I'd be interested in studying a city that managed to substantially improve its quality of life without relying on major population growth. Better existing neighborhoods. Stronger local businesses. More productive commercial property. Improved public spaces. Higher-quality redevelopment. That's a more interesting economic development story than simply adding another ten thousand residents.

One of the most important questions a city can ask about a proposed development is what infrastructure already exists nearby. If a project can make better use of roads, utilities and public facilities we've already paid for, that's worth considering. If it requires extending infrastructure into an entirely new area, we should understand what we're committing future residents to maintain. Two projects with the same taxable value can have very different financial consequences.

One of the stranger developments in marketing is how much money brands spend trying to make paid endorsements look like ordinary recommendations. Meanwhile, some of the most effective marketing still happens when somebody discovers something genuinely good and tells a friend. The difference is that the second version requires a product people actually want to talk about. That tends to be harder than hiring somebody with a large audience.

I’m becoming a bigger believer in doing small things before studying enormous things. Want to know if people would use a public space? Put out some tables and chairs. Wonder if outdoor dining would work? Try it for 6 months. Think a street could become more interesting? Close part of it one Saturday. Sometimes $20,000 and six months of actually doing something will teach you more than a $200,000 study about whether you should.

I think there's a subtle difference between a visionary organization and one that's simply good at forecasting. Forecasting asks what the future is likely to look like. Vision asks what future we'd like to help create. Cities need both. But if every major decision is based entirely on what already exists, we shouldn't be surprised when the future looks remarkably similar to the present.

People are already asking who needs a car that can accelerate to 60 mph in under a second or potentially do things we've never seen a production car do before. That's almost beside the point. The value of pursuing an extraordinary capability isn't always the immediate application. Sometimes it's what you have to invent along the way. We have a tendency in local government to judge new ideas entirely by their immediate usefulness. That makes sense when you're evaluating budgets, but it's a terrible way to develop an ambitious culture. Not everything worthwhile starts with an obvious application.

Imagine spending $500,000 renovating your downtown building. New façade. Better lighting. Landscaping. New tenant. The city improves the street. Your neighbor fixes his property too. Meanwhile, another owner spends nothing and waits. Five years later his property is worth considerably more because of everything everyone else did. I understand why property owners sometimes get frustrated. The person who contributed the least can still participate in the upside.

A city can tell you how many businesses opened last year. What I’d really like to know is how many almost opened. The restaurant owner who found another location because dealing with the city seemed exhausting. The developer who looked at a property and passed. The entrepreneur who couldn’t get anyone interested in an unusual idea. Economic development reports are very good at measuring what happened. The opportunity cost of what never happened may be considerably larger.

A restaurant opens next to a coffee shop. Then someone realizes all those people need somewhere to get a drink afterward, so a bar opens. Now enough people are coming that another restaurant takes a chance nearby. A store opens because there’s finally foot traffic. Someone fixes up an old building because suddenly the rent makes sense. This is the part of economic development I find fascinating. Sometimes one really good business can change the economics of an entire block.

I’ve never heard anyone come back from vacation and rave about how efficiently they moved through the city. They talk about the street they wandered down. The little restaurant they found. The old building. The market. The park where they sat for an hour. The neighborhood they accidentally discovered. Maybe there is a lesson there for cities. Some of the most economically productive behavior is inefficient.

Here’s a new question I’ve been asking myself lately: What kind of person will want to serve in local government 10 years from now? Think about what the job involves. Residents expect you to be available, informed, compassionate, responsive and knowledgeable about everything from development law to stormwater engineering. You’ll be asked to make decisions that affect people’s homes, businesses, taxes and neighborhoods, often with no option that satisfies everyone. And when people disagree, some will criticize the decision, some will criticize your motives, and others may decide that one vote tells them everything they need to know about you. Public scrutiny is necessary. Accountability is essential. Nobody who seeks office should expect immunity from criticism. But there’s a difference between holding public officials accountable and creating an environment where every disagreement turns into personal hostility. I wonder whether we’re sufficiently considering the long-term consequences of that environment on the people willing to serve.

A city spends $2 million telling outsiders its downtown is exciting. Residents know whether it actually is. That’s why I think city marketing is different from selling toothpaste. Your existing customers are standing inside the product while you’re advertising it. If the marketing and their daily experience don’t match, they’re going to tell people.

Think how many redevelopment plans would look different if the first question was: How do we get people to WANT to be here? Not live here. Not drive through here. Not come here because there’s an event. Actually enjoy being there with nothing particularly important to accomplish. Solve that and a lot of the economic development might become considerably easier.

One of the strangest things we’ve done is build neighborhoods full of amenities specifically designed to keep residents from having to leave. Private gym. Private pool. Private clubhouse. Sometimes even restaurants & coworking spaces. From a real estate perspective, I understand it completely. From a city perspective, I wonder about it. A healthy neighborhood probably needs people leaving their buildings and participating in the neighborhood too.

People talk about autonomous cars making transportation cheaper. I’m interested in whether they make certain real estate more valuable. A surface parking lot in the middle of an active downtown isn’t just parking if demand for parking collapses. It’s suddenly a development site that someone already owns. Multiply that across an entire city. The wealth creation could be enormous.