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    Will It Be Morning in Joe Biden’s America?

    If the midterm elections could be rerun this month, Democrats would probably end up in full control of Congress. President Biden’s approval ratings are rising. Inflation is down, and consumers are feeling more optimistic. And Americans are getting a better look at the G.O.P.’s actual policy agenda, which is deeply unpopular.OK, we don’t give politicians who lost an election the opportunity for a mulligan, even when they falsely claim that the election was stolen. But it is, I think, worth noting just how much the economic and hence political environment has shifted in the past few months, and to start thinking seriously about the possibility that Democrats might be in a startlingly strong position next year.It’s hard to overstate how bad things looked for Biden’s party on election eve. The last report on consumer prices released before the midterms showed inflation of 8.2 percent over the previous year, a terrible number by anyone’s reckoning. The unemployment rate was still very low by historical standards, but the news media was full of warnings about hard times ahead, and a large majority of likely voters believed (falsely) that we were in a recession.Given the perceived grimness of the economic environment, Republicans and many political analysts confidently expected a huge electoral red wave.Why didn’t that happen? Part of the answer may be that Americans weren’t feeling as bad about the economy as some surveys suggested. It’s true that the venerable University of Michigan index of consumer sentiment had fallen to levels last seen in the aftermath of the 2008 financial crisis, during the worst slump since the Great Depression.But the Michigan index was probably distorted by partisanship: Did Republicans really believe, as they claimed, that the economy was worse than it had been in June 1980? (Back then the economy actually was in a recession, inflation was 14 percent, and unemployment was above 7 percent.)And another longstanding index of consumer confidence, from the Conference Board, was telling a quite different story, with consumers feeling pretty good about the economy. I’m not sure why these measures were so different, but the Conference Board measure seemed to do a better job of predicting the vote — although the backlash over Roe v. Wade, and against some terrible Republican candidates, surely also played a role.In any case, in mid-January — a bit over two months after the election, but three consumer price reports later — things look very different. There’s still no recession. Consumer prices actually fell in December; more to the point, they’ve risen at an annual rate of only 2 percent over the past six months.And while consumer expectations haven’t caught up with financial markets, which appear to believe that inflation will stay low for the foreseeable future, consumer expectations of inflation are back down to their levels of a year and a half ago.Which raises a question few would have asked even a few months ago: Is Joe Biden — who, for the record, had a much better midterm than Ronald Reagan did in 1982 — possibly headed for a “morning in America” moment?A few months ago I looked at the “misery index” — the sum of unemployment and inflation, originally suggested by Arthur Okun as a quick-and-dirty summary of the state of the economy. I used to think this index was silly; there are multiple reasons it shouldn’t make sense. But it has historically done a surprisingly good job of tracking consumer sentiment. And as I noted even then, the misery index seemed to be declining.Well, now it has fallen off a cliff. If we use the inflation rate over the past six months, the misery index, which stood at 14 as recently as June, is now down to 5.4, or about what it was on the eve of the pandemic, when Donald Trump confidently expected a strong economy to guarantee his re-election.Nor is that the only thing Democrats have going for them. The green energy subsidies in the Inflation Reduction Act are leading to multiple new investments in domestic manufacturing; it’s unclear how many jobs will be created, but the next two years will give Biden many opportunities to preside over factory openings, giving speeches about how America is, um, becoming great again.Now, I’m not predicting a Democratic blowout in 2024. For one thing, many things can happen over the next 22 months, although I don’t think Republicans, even with cooperation from too many in the media, will convince Americans that the Biden administration is riddled with corruption. For another, elections often turn not so much on how good things are as on the perceived rate of improvement, and with inflation and unemployment already low, it’s not clear how much room there is for a boom.Also, extreme political polarization has probably made landslide elections a thing of the past. Republicans could probably nominate George Santos and still get 47 percent of the vote.But to the extent that the economic landscape shapes the political landscape, things look far better for Democrats now than almost anyone imagined until very recently.The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram. More

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    ¿El mundo se está acabando? ¿O solo es el miedo?

    ¿Qué podemos decir de este último año en Estados Unidos? Hay quien afirma que esto es el fin, o el principio del fin; que la infraestructura de nuestra democracia se está desmoronando; que los sismos de la economía auguran un colapso y que el riesgo nuclear en la guerra rusa contra Ucrania podría combustionar y provocar algo mucho mayor. En cambio, otros dicen que, a pesar de todas estas tensiones, en realidad estamos viendo cómo se sostiene el sistema, que la democracia prevalece y que el peligro se está disipando.Esos argumentos se pueden calificar de histéricos, displicentes o ajenos a la realidad, pero también se pueden plantear de manera abierta y franca. Quizás estemos de verdad al borde de algo peor, como en algunos largos periodos del siglo XX, y quizás así era como se sentía la gente en esas épocas sobre las cuales has leído. ¿Se está acabando el mundo tal como lo conocíamos? ¿Lo sabrías, siquiera, antes de que fuera demasiado tarde, antes de que en efecto se hubiera acabado?En 2022, podíamos ver cómo el discurso oscilaba entre el apocalipsis y la relativización, y entre el pánico y la cautela, en la política, en los medios, en Twitter e Instagram, en mensajes de texto, en persona, dentro y fuera de facciones ideológicas, sobre la guerra en Europa, el estado de la democracia estadounidense, el iliberalismo y el posible repliegue del globalismo, la violencia, la COVID-19, la inteligencia artificial, la inflación y los precios de la energía y el criptocontagio. Hay versiones profundas de este debate, y luego hay versiones reduccionistas que se entrevén en los comentarios de Instagram, o en una columna de opinión, que interpretan todo mal. Este debate incluso lo puede mantener una persona consigo misma.Lo más probable es que ya estés al tanto de las posibilidades apocalípticas respecto a la democracia estadounidense. Fundamentalmente, este país no funciona si el traspaso pacífico del poder no funciona. Este país no funciona, y no funcionó en la memoria reciente, si la gente no puede votar. Y puede haber un umbral a partir del cual deje de funcionar si el suficiente número de personas desconfía de los resultados electorales. Estas cuestiones existenciales se han canalizado ahora en problemas concretos: en 2022, hubo gente que llamó a las oficinas de campaña electoral y dejó amenazas de muerte; gente con equipo táctico apostada ante las urnas; y oficinas de campaña que instalaron cristales antibalas. Los republicanos mandaron candidatos a Arizona y Pensilvania que se postularon con la premisa de que en este país las elecciones son una mentira. Millones de personas vieron las audiencias sobre el 6 de enero donde se indagó en lo caóticos y precarios que fueron en realidad los últimos días de la Casa Blanca de Trump.Después, en este frágil paisaje de confianza, estaban las cortes. En verano, la Corte Suprema anuló completamente el caso Roe contra Wade, sentencia que se esperaba desde tiempo atrás, pero que aun así pareció conmocionar hasta a las personas que estaban a favor, incluso después de la surrealista publicación de un borrador de la opinión de la Corte en la primavera. Que eso llegara a suceder —que de pronto una mujer tuviera que ir a otro estado a realizarse un aborto para no arriesgarse a morir a causa de las complicaciones— no solo comportó ese tipo de consecuencias tangibles en mil momentos privados de la vida las personas, sino que también abrió un mundo de otras posibilidades que podrían ocurrir. Quizá la Corte revoque la igualdad del matrimonio. O refrende la rebuscada teoría de la “legislatura estatal independiente”, adoptada por un grupo de derechistas y que consiste en ampliar los poderes de las legislaturas estatales para celebrar elecciones, con el peligro de desestabilizar todo el sistema.Todos estos acontecimientos fueron aparejados de un discurso desorientador, de alto riesgo, sobre cómo y cuánto hablar de las teorías de la conspiración y las amenazas antidemocráticas. Sabemos que lo que dice la gente —lo que decimos— en las redes sociales, y por supuesto en los medios de comunicación, moldea la percepción de los demás sobre la política, pero de un modo difícil de medir, y saber esto puede convertir cada artículo o mensaje en las redes en una oportunidad o un error. Hubo articulistas que sostuvieron que centrarse excesivamente en la democracia podría ahuyentar a los votantes, en vez de persuadirlos, o incluso corromper las instituciones al entremezclar las preocupaciones constitucionales con las de índole partidista.Después estuvo el mundo más allá del discurso, donde nadie pudo controlar gran cosa más allá de un solo hombre. Desde la anexión de Crimea en 2014 y la tibieza con que respondió Occidente a ella, la gente llevaba meses, y años, advirtiendo de que Vladimir Putin ordenaría la invasión total de Ucrania. Y entonces ocurrió. No hay muchas personas, en Rusia u otras partes, que parezcan querer esto, más allá de Putin, pero eso no impidió que Ucrania se convirtiera en el tipo de lugar donde un niño tiene que averiguar por sí mismo que los soldados han fusilado a su madre y a su padrastro porque nadie sabe cómo decírselo; donde la gente tenía que beberse el agua de los radiadores para mantenerse con vida; donde, al reflexionar sobre las salvajes muertes en la ciudad, alguien puede acabar señalando con tristeza que “en teoría, los organismos internacionales tienen la autoridad de procesar los crímenes de guerra donde y cuandoquiera que se produzcan”.La rápida transición desde la invasión como algo esperado pero hipotético a algo muy real, con muertes innecesarias y millones de ucranianos y rusos teniendo que dejar sus casas quizá para siempre, abrió otras siniestras posibilidades. Parecía una cuestión existencial, primero para Ucrania, y después para el resto de Europa del este. La alianza de la OTAN podía fracturarse, en el caso de una escalada. La posibilidad de que China invadiera Taiwán —y de una guerra total a escala mundial— pareció de pronto más fácil de concebir, incluso de esperar. Las armas nucleares pasaron a ser algo en lo que gente piensa, en serio. Y, de forma más inmediata, pareció que las interrupciones en el suministro de gas y baterías y en la producción y distribución del grano iban a causar estragos a lo largo y ancho de los países.De debatir si la inflación pospandémica podría ser transitoria se pasó a plantear si podría parecerse a la de la década de 1970, con las dificultades de la estanflación y las escaseces de energía; después, de si la quiebra de las criptomonedas podría recordar a la del mercado inmobiliario en la década de 2000; qué consecuencias políticas y de otro tipo podría tener el disparo de los precios; y, peor aún, que los precios del grano puedan provocar una ola de hambrunas en todo el mundo. En Odd Lots, el pódcast sobre finanzas de Bloomberg, los presentadores señalan con frecuencia que se ha producido una “tormenta perfecta” de condiciones para la crisis: en la logística del comercio marítimo, en los precios del café, en la menor producción de cobre, en las dificultades de empezar a extraer más petróleo. Todo parece haberse estropeado o torcido un poco al mismo tiempo. ¿Se trata de un intenso periodo de acontecimientos inusuales, o de un momento de calma antes de que todas las piezas interconectadas colapsen?Y esto sin contar otras preocupaciones más profundas que tienen las personas, y que también contribuyen a generar la sensación de desintegración social: la depresión y la ansiedad entre los adolescentes, el descenso de nivel en lectura y matemáticas, la omnipresencia del fentanilo y el resurgimiento del antisemitismo y la violencia anti-LGBTQ. La policía tardó una hora en intervenir mientras un joven disparaba contra niños. Jóvenes que disparan a los clientes de una tienda de comestibles porque eran negros; clientes que lo hacen en un club gay y trans; y también jugadores de fútbol universitario, después de una excursión para ver un partido. Vidas truncadas en un contexto de normalidad, y pocas cosas pueden hacer sentir más a la gente que el mundo se acaba.Existe una razón por la que a muchas personas les preocupa una mayor soledad social, la cual es difícil de definir y más aún de subsanar. Existe una razón por la que muchas personas dicen que es como caminar en medio de la niebla. “Por ahora, estamos vivos en el fin del mundo, traumatizados por los titulares y las alarmas del reloj”, escribió el poeta Saeed Jones en su poemario más reciente.A pesar de todo este dolor y esta nefasta posibilidad, algunas noticias han desafiado las expectativas. Rusia no se ha llevado Ucrania por delante; Estados Unidos y Europa se mantienen unidos; la gente celebra en la retirada de las tropas rusas de sus ciudades sin luz. Muchos de los grandes exponentes de las teorías conspirativas sobre las elecciones en Estados Unidos —y en especial quienes querían hacerse con las riendas de la burocracia electoral— perdieron en los estados más importantes de cara al traspaso de poderes presidenciales. El colapso de las grandes plataformas de intercambio de criptomonedas no se ha extendido, por ahora, a todo el sistema financiero. La Corte Suprema pareció escéptica este mes respecto a la teoría de las legislaturas estatales, aunque en realidad no podremos confirmarlo hasta el año que viene. No ha habido violencia o agitación generales en la jornada electoral o en reacción a los resultados.Tal vez a los seres humanos se nos ha infravalorado frente a la inteligencia artificial, como apuntó mi colega Farhad Manjoo; hubo un avance en la fusión nuclear, aunque el desarrollo a partir de ahí podría ser verdaderamente complicado; es muy probable que pronto se administre una vacuna contra la malaria que pueda transformar el modo de propagación de la enfermedad. Algunas de las predicciones más funestas sobre el cambio climático podrían resultar al final haber sido demasiado funestas. Como escribió mi colega David Wallace-Wells este año: “El margen de posibles futuros climáticos se está reduciendo, y, por tanto, nos estamos haciendo una mejor idea de lo que vendrá: un nuevo mundo, lleno de disrupciones, pero también de miles de millones de personas que vivirán con un clima que distará de ser normal, pero también, afortunadamente, del verdadero apocalipsis climático”.Él sostiene que, en parte, algunos de esos mejores resultados se derivan de la movilización a causa de un profundo temor. Esto va ligado a la misteriosa relación entre las advertencias ominosas y los resultados positivos, a ese miedo que puede mitigar la causa del miedo. Quizá fue eso lo que impidió ganar las elecciones a los teóricos conspirativos a ultranza: que los votantes indecisos visualizaron el funesto panorama de lo que podría pasar y decidieron actuar. O quizá solo quieren más estabilidad; quizá mucha gente la quiere.Esta es, en teoría, la razón por la que la gente debate sobre el carácter de nuestros problemas y su gravedad en Twitter y en lugares como The New York Times: la respuesta. El debate científico privado y público sobre, por ejemplo, la gravedad de una nueva variante de un virus tiene el potencial de guiar la respuesta del gobierno y de la sociedad.Pero no puede bastar con eso, ciertamente, porque la mayoría de este tipo de conversaciones no se mantienen con la expectativa de que Joe Biden esté escuchándolas.Oír hablar de que el mundo se acaba, o que te digan que deberías calmarte, puede ser absolutamente exasperante si no tienes el ánimo para ello: la persona que parece demasiado alarmista, cuyo pánico te crispa los nervios o se filtra en tu psique y se adhiere a todas tus preocupaciones menores; o ese tipo de argumentos que dicen que la democracia está perdida: derribarán sin excepción cualquier cosa que digas que pueda hacer más compleja la imagen. O la persona que es demasiado displicente, incapaz de reconocer una preocupación genuina de la gente, que en última instancia no te reconoce a ti; que no ve, o se niega a ver, que la crisis está aquí ya.Preocuparse sobre el fin de todo, desdeñar eso, debatirlo, apostar por lo que vendrá después: esta podría ser una manera de ejercer control sobre lo incontrolable, de afirmar nuestra propia voluntad de acción o marcar distancias entre nosotros y lo inesperado. Las cosas simplemente suceden ahora, más allá de las creencias, la racionalidad y, a veces, las palabras. Y tiene algo de esperanzador —en cuanto validación de que estamos vivos y podemos influir en los acontecimientos— que intentemos darle sentido a todo ello.Katherine Miller es redactora y editora de Opinión. More

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    Was the World Collapsing? Or Were You Just Freaking Out?

    What should we make of this year in America? There’s an argument that this is the end, or the beginning of the end, that the infrastructure of our democracy is crumbling, and that the jittery quality in the economy portends collapse and that the nuclear risk in Russia’s war in Ukraine could combust into something much bigger. There is, then, the counterargument that even with all these strains, we’re actually witnessing the system hold, that democracy prevails, that the danger is fading.Those arguments can register as hysterical or dismissive or out of touch, but they can also be considered in the most openhearted, late-night kind of way. Maybe we really are on the verge of something even worse, as in large stretches of the 20th century, and this is how people felt in previous eras that you read about. Is the world as we knew it ending? Would you even know, until it was too late, until it was actually over?In 2022, you could find the swings in discourse between apocalypse and dismissal, panic and caution, in politics, in the media, on Twitter and Instagram, over text, in person, within and between ideological factions, about war in Europe, about the state of American democracy, about illiberalism and the prospective retreat from globalism, about violence, about Covid, about artificial intelligence, about inflation and energy prices and crypto collapse contagion. There are deep versions of this debate, and reductive ones you catch a glimpse of in Instagram comments or in an op-ed that just gets it all wrong. This can even be a debate you have with yourself.You probably know about the apocalyptic possibilities for American democracy. Fundamentally, this country doesn’t work if the peaceful transfer of power does not work. This country doesn’t work, and didn’t work in living memory, if people can’t vote. And there might be a threshold at which it doesn’t work if enough people don’t trust election results. Those existential questions have now been channeled into concrete problems: In 2022, people called up election offices and left death threats; people in tactical gear staked out voter drop boxes; election offices installed bulletproof glass. Republicans fielded candidates in Arizona and Pennsylvania who ran on the premise that elections in this country were a lie. Millions watched the Jan. 6 hearings that delved into how chaotic and fragile the final days of the Trump White House really were.Then, in this fragile landscape of trust, there were the courts. In the summer, the Supreme Court fully overturned Roe v. Wade, a decision long expected, but one that still seemed to shock even the people who wanted it — even after the surreal publication of a drafted opinion in the spring. The fact that it really did happen — that suddenly a woman had to drive into another state to get an abortion so that she wouldn’t potentially die from complications — not only carried that kind of real-life consequence in a thousand private moments of people’s lives, but also opened up a world of other possibilities about what could happen. Maybe the court would roll back marriage equality. Or sign off on “independent state legislature” theory, an obscure theory adopted by a group of right-wingers that would grant expanded powers to state legislatures in carrying out elections and risk destabilizing the entire system.Accompanying all these events was a disorienting, high-stakes discourse about how to talk about conspiracy theories and antidemocratic threats, and about how much to do so. We know that what people say — what we say — on social platforms, and certainly in the media, shapes the way people perceive politics, but in a way that can be hard to measure — an awareness that can convert every piece or post into an opportunity or mistake. Writers argued that excessively focusing on democracy might alienate, rather than persuade, voters, or even corrupt institutions by intertwining constitutional and partisan concerns.Then there was the world beyond discourse, where no one could control much of anything beyond one man. For months, for years, since the 2014 annexation of Crimea and the West’s tepid response to it, people had warned that Vladimir Putin would eventually launch a full-scale invasion of Ukraine — then it happened. Not many people in Russia or anywhere else seemed to want this beyond Mr. Putin, but that did nothing to prevent Ukraine from becoming the kind of place where a boy has to figure out for himself that troops shot his mother and stepfather because nobody knows how to tell him, where people had to drink the water from radiators to stay alive, where reflecting on brutal deaths in one city, someone can find themselves grimly observing, “In theory, international bodies have the authority to prosecute war crimes wherever and whenever they occur.” More

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    How a ‘Golden Era for Large Cities’ Might Be Turning Into an ‘Urban Doom Loop’

    The last thirty years “were a golden era for large cities,” Stijn Van Nieuwerburgh, a professor of real estate and finance at Columbia Business School, wrote in November 2022: “A virtuous cycle of improving amenities (educational and cultural institutions, entertainment, low crime) and job opportunities attracted employers, employees, young and old, to cities.”New York, Los Angeles, Boston and San Francisco, Van Nieuwerburgh continued, “became magnets for the highest-skilled employees and the top employers, with particular concentrations in finance and technology.” In late February and early March 2020, the Covid-19 pandemic hit New York and other population hubs. In Van Nieuwerburgh’s telling, the Covid-19 crisis “triggered a massive migration response. Many households fled urban centers. Most of these Covid migrants moved to the suburbs.”As the pandemic endured and subsequent Covid variants prompted employers to postpone return-to-office plans, Van Nieuwerburgh noted, “Covid-induced migration patterns began to take on a more persistent character. Many households transitioned from temporarily renting a suburban home to purchasing a suburban home.”In Van Nieuwerburgh’s view — and that of many of his colleagues — what seemed like a transitory step to avoid infection has become a major force driving the future direction of urban America.Scholars are increasingly voicing concern that the shift to working from home, spurred by the coronavirus pandemic, will bring the three-decade renaissance of major cities to a halt, setting off an era of urban decline. They cite an exodus of the affluent, a surge in vacant offices and storefronts and the prospect of declining property taxes and public transit revenues.Insofar as fear of urban crime grows, as the number of homeless people increases, and as the fiscal ability of government to address these problems shrinks, the amenities of city life are very likely to diminish.Jacob Brown, a post- doctoral fellow at Princeton’s Center for the Study of Democratic Politics, elaborated in an email on the consequences for cities of the more than 20 percent of urban employees now working full- or part-time from home:With respect to crime, poverty and homelessness, Brown argued,One thing that may occur is that disinvestment in city downtowns will alter the spatial distribution of these elements in cities — i.e. in which neighborhoods or areas of a city is crime more likely, and homelessness more visible. Urban downtowns are often policed such that these visible elements of poverty are pushed to other parts of the city where they will not interfere with commercial activities. But absent these activities, there may be less political pressure to maintain these areas. This is not to say that the overall crime rate or homelessness levels will necessarily increase, but their spatial redistribution may further alter the trajectory of commercial downtowns — and the perception of city crime in the broader public.“The more dramatic effects on urban geography,” Brown continued,may be how this changes cities in terms of economic and racial segregation. One urban trend from the last couple of decades is young white middle- and upper-class people living in cities at higher rates than previous generations. But if these groups become less likely to live in cities, leaving a poorer, more disproportionately minority population, this will make metropolitan regions more polarized by race/class.My Times colleague Nicholas Fandos documented the damage that even the perception of rising crime can inflict on Democrats in a Nov. 27 article, “Meet the Voters Who Fueled New York’s Seismic Tilt Toward the G.O.P.”: “From Long Island to the Lower Hudson Valley, Republicans running predominantly on crime swept five of six suburban congressional seats, including three that President Biden won handily that encompass some of the nation’s most affluent, well-educated commuter towns.And on Tuesday, Mayor Eric Adams of New York announced plans to potentially subject severely mentally ill people who are found on subways or city streets to involuntarily hospitalization.Nicholas Bloom, an economist at Stanford, described some of the economic forces at work in an email:In big cities like New York and San Francisco we estimate large drops in retail spending because office workers are now coming into city centers typically 2.5 rather than 5 days a week. This is reducing business activity by billions of dollars — less lunches, drinks, dinners and shopping by office workers. This will reduce city hall tax revenues.Compounding the problem, Bloom continued,Public transit systems are facing massive permanent shortfalls as the surge in working from home cuts their revenues but has little impact on costs (as subway systems are mostly a fixed cost. This is leading to a permanent 30 percent drop in transit revenues on the New York Subway, San Francisco Bart, etc.These difficulties for cities will not go away anytime soon. Bloom provided data showing strong economic incentives for both corporations and their employees to continue the work-from-home revolution if their jobs allow it:First, “Saved commute time working from home averages about 70 minutes a day, of which about 40 percent (30 minutes) goes into extra work.” Second, “Research finds hybrid working from home increases average productivity around 5 percent and this is growing.” And third, “Employees also really value hybrid working from home, at about the same as an 8 percent pay increase on average.”In the case of New York, Bloom wrote that he is “reasonably optimistic in the long-run,” and “current office leasing markets are soft but not in collapse.”That view is not shared by three other experts in real estate economics, Arpit Gupta, of N.Y.U.’s Stern School of Business, Vrinda Mittal, both of the Columbia Business School, and Van Nieuwerburgh. They anticipate disaster in their September 2022 paper, “Work From Home and the Office Real Estate Apocalypse.”“Our research,” Gupta wrote by email,emphasizes the possibility of an ‘urban doom loop’ by which decline of work in the center business district results in less foot traffic and consumption, which adversely affects the urban core in a variety of ways (less eyes on the street, so more crime; less consumption; less commuting) thereby lowering municipal revenues, and also making it more challenging to provide public goods and services absent tax increases. These challenges will predominantly hit blue cities in the coming years.In their paper, the three authors “revalue the stock of New York City commercial office buildings taking into account pandemic-induced cash flow and discount rate effects. We find a 45 percent decline in office values in 2020 and 39 percent in the longer run, the latter representing a $453 billion value destruction.”Extrapolating to all properties in the United States, Gupta, Mittal and Van Nieuwerburgh write, the “total decline in commercial office valuation might be around $518.71 billion in the short-run and $453.64 billion in the long-run.”Their conclusions are not necessarily cast in concrete but they are bleak:We estimate that remote work is likely to persist and result in long-run office valuations that are 39.18 percent below prepandemic levels. The decline in office values and the surrounding central business district retail properties, whose lease revenues have been hit at least as hard as office, has important implications for local public finances.For example, the share of real estate taxes in N.Y.C.’s budget was 53 percent in 2020, 24 percent of which comes from office and retail property taxes. Given budget balance requirements, the fiscal hole left by declining central business district office and retail tax revenues would need to be plugged by raising tax rates or cutting government spending.Both would affect the attractiveness of the city as a place of residence and work. These dynamics risk activating a fiscal doom loop. With more people being able to separate the location of work and home, the migration elasticity to local tax rates and amenities may be larger than in the past.In a separate email, Van Nieuwerburgh warned thatAs property values of urban office and urban retail fall, with the increased importance of work from home, so do the tax revenues generated from those buildings and the associated economic activity. Since local governments must balance their budget, this means that they need to raise tax revenues elsewhere or cut public spending. The former is bad for the business climate. The latter is bad for the quality of life in the city: cuts to public transit, schools, police departments, sanitation departments, etc. As the quality of public services deteriorates, crime could increase, making public transit potentially even less attractive. More generally, an urban doom loop could ensue, whereby lower property tax revenues beget lower spending and higher taxes, triggering more out-migration, lower property values, lower tax revenues, less public spending, more crime and worse schools/transit, more out-migration.In his November 2022 paper, “The Remote Work Revolution: Impact on Real Estate Values and the Urban Environment,” Van Nieuwerburgh writes:Since March 2020, Manhattan has lost 200,000 households, the most of any county in the U.S. Brooklyn (-88,000) and Queens (-51,000) also appear in the bottom 10. The cities of Chicago (-75,000), San Francisco (-67,000), Los Angeles (-64,000 for the city and -136,000 for the county), Washington DC (-33,000), Seattle (-31,500), Houston (-31,000), and Boston (-25,000) make up the rest of the bottom 10.As major cities are caught in a downward fiscal spiral, the forces driving the process will be felt in varying stages. The loss of transit ridership fares and sales taxes is immediate; declining residential, retail and office property taxes will take longer to phase in as new appraisals are performed; drops in income tax revenues will occur as families moving outside city limits change their legal residence.Ruth Fremson/The New York TimesOne of the major consequences of these patterns, Jessica Trounstine, a political scientist at the University of California-Merced, wrote in an email, “has been segregation in fiscal capacity within metro areas.” In most cases, Trounstine suggested, “the people who will leave cities will likely be higher income and whiter than the people who stay. This means that prior patterns will only be amplified, not reversed.”There are a number of ways to describe the changing character of urban America and the ever-evolving nature of post-pandemic life.Tracey H. Loh, a Brookings fellow, wrote in an email that one way to view an urban downtown is like “a natural ecosystem” that has received a major shock:Prior to the pandemic, these ecosystems were designed to function based on huge surges in their daytime population from commuters and tourists. The shock of the sudden loss of a big chunk of this population caused a big disruption in the ecosystem.Just as the pandemic has caused a surge in telework, Loh wrote, “it also caused a huge surge in unsheltered homelessness because of existing flaws in America’s housing system, the end of federally-funded relief measures, a mental health care crisis, and the failure of policies of isolation and confinement to solve the pre-existing homelessness crisis.”The upshot, Loh continued,is that both the visibility and ratio of people in crisis relative to those engaged in commerce (whether working or shopping) has changed in a lot of U.S. downtowns, which has a big impact on how being downtown ‘feels’ and thus perceptions of downtown. These negative perceptions have become a real barrier to further recovery and are also shaping local elections, especially out west where homelessness is worse, such as last year’s Seattle mayoral election or the recent L.A. mayoral election.Some urban experts have a less pessimistic outlook.Edward Glaeser, an economist at Harvard and a co-author, with David Cutler, of the 2021 book “Survival of the City: The Future of Urban Life in an Age of Isolation,” wrote by email that “Conventional economic theory suggests that real estate markets will adjust to any reduction in demand by reducing price. Some of this has already happened in commercial real estate.” Glaeser also noted that “many businesses that thought that they were priced out of N.Y.C., San Francisco and Boston markets will reconsider if commercial prices are 30 percent lower.”In fact, Glaeser argued, whilea thirty percent drop in rents in N.Y.C. or S.F. would not lead to disaster, a similar drop in Buffalo or Cleveland might be more problematic because many landlords might just decide to walk away from their properties. In that case, a bleak spiral could begin where vacancies beget vacancies as the urban service providers that cater to local businesses shut down or relocate as well.The nation, Glaeser continued, isat an unusual confluence of trends which poses dangers for cities similar to those experienced in the 1970s. Event#1 is the rise of Zoom, which makes relocation easier even if it doesn’t mean that face-to-face is going away. Event#2 is a hunger to deal with past injustices, including police brutality, mass incarceration, high housing costs and limited upward mobility for the children of the poor.Progressive mayors, according to Glaeser,have a natural hunger to deal with these problems at the local level, but if they try to right injustices by imposing costs on businesses and the rich, then those taxpayers will just leave. I certainly remember New York and Detroit in the 1960s and 1970s, where the dreams of progressive mayors like John Lindsay and Jerome Patrick Cavanagh ran into fiscal realities.In the short run, Glaeser wrote,both the reduction in tax revenues and current political impulses are likely to lead to more crime and homelessness, which will in turn create more of an urban exodus. I am sufficiently optimistic about cities to think that they are likely to react relatively quickly to that exodus and then pivot to being smarter about urban management. In this more hopeful scenario, the likely medium term effect is to create a new generation of city manager-mayors, like Mike Bloomberg, who care about inequity but fight it in a smart way.Richard Florida, a professor of economic analysis and policy at the University of Toronto, stands out as one of the most resolutely optimistic urban scholars. In his August 2022 Bloomberg column, “Why Downtown Won’t Die,” Florida asks, “Can America’s iconic downtowns survive?” His answer:Great downtowns are not reducible to offices. Even if the office were to go the way of the horse-drawn carriage, the neighborhoods we refer to today as downtowns would endure. Downtowns and the cities they anchor are the most adaptive and resilient of human creations; they have survived far worse. Continual works in progress, they have been rebuilt and remade in the aftermaths of all manner of crises and catastrophes — epidemics and plagues; great fires, floods and natural disasters; wars and terrorist attacks. They’ve also adapted to great economic transformations like deindustrialization a half century ago.What the Covid-19 pandemic has done, Florida argues, “is to accelerate a set of changes in our downtowns that were already underway. Vestiges of the industrial age, they were gradually evolving from the one-dimensional, work-only central business districts of the 1950s, ’60s and ’70s.”In an email, Florida wrote that many urban central business districts are “relics of the past, the last gasp of the industrial age organization of knowledge work the veritable packing and stacking of knowledge workers in giant office towers, made obsolete and unnecessary by new technologies.”Now, he argued, “Downtowns are evolving away from centers for work to actual neighborhoods. Jane Jacobs titled her seminal 1957 essay, which led in fact to ‘The Death and Life of Great American Cities,’ ‘Downtown Is for People’ — sounds about right to me.”Despite his optimism, Florida acknowledged in his email thatAmerican cities are uniquely vulnerable to social disorder — a consequence of our policies toward guns and lack of a social safety net. Compounding this is our longstanding educational dilemma, where urban schools generally lack the quality of suburban schools. American cities are simply much less family-friendly than cities in most other parts of the advanced world. So when people have kids they are more or less forced to move out of America’s cities.Florida made the case in his email that cities have become critically important incubators:What worries me in all of this, in addition to the impact on cities, is the impact on the American economy — on innovation. and competitiveness. Our great cities are home to the great clusters of talent and innovation that power our economy. Remote work has many advantages and even leads to improvements in some kinds of knowledge work productivity. But America’s huge lead in innovation, finances, entertainment and culture industries comes largely from its great cities. Innovation and advance in. these industries come from the clustering of talent, ideas and knowledge. If that gives out, I worry about our longer-run economic future and living standards.While the future path of cities remains uncertain, Patrick Sharkey, a sociologist at Princeton, provided an overview of the problems they face:Cities that have lost revenue from commercial activity have received substantial support from the federal government over the last few years, but that assistance won’t be sustained in the future. What comes next is not clear, but big cities have to reinvent themselves in an era when the downtown business district seems to be permanently changing. The risk that comes with fiscal distress is clear: If city governments face budget shortfalls and begin to cut back on funding for public transit, policing, and street outreach, for the maintenance of parks, playgrounds, community centers, and schools, and for services for homelessness, addiction, and mental illness, then conditions in central cities will begin to deteriorate.The result?When support for the people and the basic institution of urban life is withdrawn, people suffer and public spaces start to empty out. This, along with the rising prevalence of guns across the country, creates the conditions for gun violence to worsen, reinforcing the process of decline. None of this is inevitable, and we know that investments in the people and institutions of cities are effective in creating safe, thriving public spaces. But it’s not entirely clear to me where those investments will come from if revenue falls in the years to come.In a paper from September, “Working from Home Around the World,” Nicholas Bloom, whom I cited earlier, and five colleagues, argue that “the implications for cities are more worrisome. The shift to working from home reduces the tax base in dense urban areas and raises the elasticity of the local tax base with respect to the quality of urban amenities and local governance.”There is reason for both apprehension and hope. Cities across time have proven remarkably resilient and have survived infectious diseases from bubonic plague to cholera to smallpox to polio. The world population, which stands today at eight billion people, is 57 percent urban, and because of the productivity, innovation and inventiveness that stems from the creativity of human beings in groups, the urbanization process is quite likely to continue into the foreseeable future. There appears to be no alternative, so we will have to make it work.The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram. More