Miami is beginning a new chapter. As ever, the city’s soul lies not just in the shimmering façade of its luxury developments but in the stories told by its streets, the murals that adorn its walls, and the rhythmic pulse that defines its cultural heartbeat. Here’s how you can dig into all of it.

Where to Stay in Miami

Eden Roc

Designed by the renowned architect Morris Lapidus, the Eden Roc Hotel in Miami is a testament to the city’s golden era of glamour and luxury. Opening its doors in 1956, the hotel became an instant icon with its distinctive mid-century modern architecture characterized by sweeping curves, opulent details, and a sense of grandeur. Lapidus, famous for his innovative and theatrical designs, created a space that exuded sophistication and elegance.

During its early years, the Eden Roc attracted a glamorous clientele, including Hollywood celebrities, prominent political figures, and international jetsetters. The hotel quickly became a hotspot for the elite, drawn to its lavish amenities and prime beachfront location. Every room has an ocean view, and guests can choose between two experiences. There’s traditional Miami-Beach style in the Eden Roc property, where the rooms have a breezy beach vibe with minimal color, allowing the ocean, sky, and sandy beach to provide the pop. The Japanese beach house style at the Nobu property, nestled within Eden Roc, offers quiet, modern luxury. No matter which guest experience you choose, you’ll inevitably want to grab a drink at the 16-seat bar in the landmark hotel lobby.

Nobu Restaurant

While there, you can grab elevated bar bites from Nobu or reserve a table at the restaurant, its own singular experience. The restaurant features undulating washi paper that floats above the dining tables, as if you’re immersed in the ocean under ribbons of seaweed. On the menu, Chef Matsuhisa’s iconic fusion of traditional Japanese dishes with Latin American flair, like the Nobu Tacos, each delicately prepared with fish. Can a taco be chic? At Nobu, the answer is yes.

Miami Art Immersion 

Miami hosts Art Basel every December, but you don’t need to plan a special trip to immerse yourself in the city’s dynamic art scene. From contemporary galleries to avant-garde museums, the Magic City has a range of experiences to offer.

Pérez Art Museum

Located in Museum Park overlooking Biscayne Bay, PAMM is a cultural landmark designed by Herzog & de Meuron. Opened in 2013, the museum has become synonymous with Miami’s commitment to contemporary art. PAMM features a diverse collection of international contemporary art, including works by established and emerging artists. The museum showcases paintings, sculptures, and installations that push the boundaries of artistic expression. Permanent exhibitions include “Transfer Download: Sea Change,” an immersive exhibit that reflects on the interconnectedness of technology and the natural world. The museum also features an outdoor sculpture garden and Verde, an on-site restaurant that boasts sweeping views of Biscayne Bay.

Wynwood

Always a good idea and always changing, Wynwood is an outdoor street art museum in the Wynwood Arts District. Established in 2009, this project transformed the neighborhood into a global destination for street art. Murals and graffiti by renowned artists like Shepard Fairey and Retna adorn the walls, creating an ever-evolving outdoor gallery that blurs the lines between street and fine art. One of the best ways to view it is to book a curator to guide you through the different works. You can also add your own graffiti experience to the schedule: a 30-minute hands-on spray-painting demo to immerse yourself fully in the Miami street art scene. While you’re there, stop by the Margulies Collection at the Warehouse. Founded by Martin Z. Margulies, this private-collection-turned-public-institution has been a cornerstone of Miami’s art scene since 1999. The collection spans various mediums, featuring sculptures, installations, and multimedia art. Artists like Willem de Kooning, Anselm Kiefer, and Olafur Eliasson contribute to the museum’s diverse and impactful collection.

ICA Miami, the Institute of Contemporary Art

A cutting-edge institution in the Design District, ICA Miami opened its doors in 2017 and has been a focal point in Miami’s evolving art landscape ever since. The institute hosts rotating exhibitions that push boundaries and promote continuous experimentation. Their commitment to advancing the work of local, emerging, and under-recognized artists is apparent: Admission is free all year round, providing open access to the public. ICA also hosts public events designed to promote the exchange of ideas and stimulate creative thinking. 

Neighborhood Culture

Miami Design District

The Design District is renowned for its luxury boutiques featuring international and local designers, offering a shopping haven where fashion enthusiasts can explore the latest trends and exclusive collections. Cutting-edge galleries and public art installations dot the artfully designed streets, transforming the district into an open-air gallery that transcends traditional boundaries. And there’s always something happening—a maker’s market, a design fair, a celebration, or other events that give you a reason to drop in and stay awhile. You’ll also find Michelin-starred restaurants—Le Jardinier, recently awarded one star, and L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon, boasting two Michelin stars. And don’t miss Mia Market, a chef-driven food hall that might be the best way to taste all the flavors Miami offers.

Allapattah

Named after the Seminole Indian word for “alligator,” Allapattah is a barrio just west of Wynwood and an emerging cultural hot spot. It’s grounded by the Rubell Museum, renowned for showcasing thought-provoking contemporary art from the extensive Rubell family collection, featuring works by some of the most-influential artists of our time, including Jeff Koons, Keith Haring, and Jean-Michel Basquiat. Allapattah is a cultural melting pot, with residents from Central America, Cuba, and the Caribbean making up much of the local population. You’ll find many hidden gems to experience, from sophisticated Basque cuisine at Leku in the Rubell Museum to a Dominican chimichurri sandwich from the Chimichurri Donde El Primo truck on 36th Street.

Española Way

It is not a neighborhood per se, but a vibrant street tucked inside of South Beach. Built as an artists’ colony in the 1920s and designed to evoke the quaint villages of France and Spain, this pedestrian-only corridor features more than a dozen restaurants and cafés, three boutique hotels, and a smattering of specialty shops.

Prefer to stroll through Espanola Way and dine nearby? Gianni’s at the Former Versace mansion is a few blocks away. Located inside the former home of Gianni Versace, which has been both a membership club and boutique hotel since he died in 1997, it features an upscale Italian menu, and the setting is undeniably one of the most beautiful in the state. Casa Tua, also located a few blocks away on 17th Street, could be described as a hidden gem, as it still manages to fly under the radar. Dining at Casa Tua is like attending a dinner party at a well-heeled but low-key friend’s house, complete with a library, lantern-lit trees in the garden, and a 20-seat chef’s table with a view of the kitchen.  

Other economists say that the Olympics can lead to some long-term benefits if planning is done well. “Some cities do [the Olympics] very well,” Dean Baim, professor of economics and finance at Pepperdine University, tells Worth. “If there’s a solid plan, it’d be a success. Los Angeles did it in 1984,” he says. “I would argue that Seoul and Atlanta did it too. Every facility that was built, they had a plan for it after the Olympics.”

France’s Big Bet on the 2004 Olympics

This preparedness that Baim thinks imperative and critical is what France boasts of against summer 2024—the centenary of the celebrated Paris 1924 games—when the eyes of the world will turn to it. The country believes it can change the opinions of Olympic naysayers with critical strategies that target gaining local public support and upholding sustainable practices. 

It is also banking on its modest $4.4 billion budget (which may change), a gender-parity pledge in athlete and event selection, and the fact that a majority of Olympic facilities (like the 1924 “Chariots of Fire” stadium) are already in place for the July-to-August games. Like most host countries who have tried to use the Olympics to sponsor an economic boom, France projects that it will make a profit—$5-10 billion from the games alone.

Still, critics like Johan Rewilak, assistant professor of sports economics and finance at the University of South Carolina, assert that hosting will be unnecessary to France’s economic growth. It’s not a sustainable financial decision, he says, as the games are inherently destructive—echoing Andrew Zimbalist’s view. 

Rewilak thinks that an already-thriving tourist destination like France does not need the Olympics to place itself on the global map. “Hosting the games may not generate the economic impact that has been previously mentioned, as Parisians may substitute spending from other areas of the local economy for sport,” says Rewilak.

He also thinks tourists will be forced to stay away from Paris for a long time for fear of being crowded or overpriced on normally affordable goods, especially as inflation is also rising (as of early 2024). “There is a sports management conference in Paris coinciding with the Olympics,” he says, “and I am choosing to stay away given how busy Paris will be!”

Accurately forecasting the economic impact of the games has remained a challenging task, but it is important to understand where the argument between optimists and skeptics is rooted and how the intricate history of the games’ economic circumstances profoundly influences present-day Olympics and ideologies about it. 

There was a time when the games were simple to host, when financial losses didn’t deplete national economies, and when failed Olympics didn’t have any colossal impact on a country’s image. In the time after, though, the Olympics became so costly that financial losses had a grave national impact. What’s more, debates over the games’ economic fairness started strong arguments that could be perceived as a reflection of one’s morality. 

“In the early days of the modern games, not much was spent in preparation and on facilities,” says Rod Skyles, an economist and seasoned business professional. “The Berlin games in 1936 changed that trend.”

The Economic Boom of the Early Modern Games 

Pierre De Coubertin served as president of the International Olympics Committee (IOC) for the first 28 years after the games’ rebirth in 1896. In that time, Olympic disasters never resulted in any major financial losses for hosting countries. The Olympics weathered setbacks like canceled games in 1916 and World War I, and experienced gradual international recognition until Paris 1924—which changed things.

These Olympics didn’t run on any obscure political or economic windfall motivations but on the French’s desire to show their sportsmanship to the world, as well as redeem themselves from the poor work they did in Paris 1900, when they hosted the games for the first time.

It was the Olympics of many firsts, recording the largest attendance yet, being broadcast over radio, and preceding the golden era of France’s booming economy. It was also the last one for Pierre De Coubertin. 

Much of Paris 1924’s success was defined by how many attendees, countries, and international delegates were present to witness and participate in it—remarkably larger than any games before. The games were especially a signifier that France’s suffering economy, fresh out of World War I, was getting back on its feet. 

Increating Revenue

France did not recover the money spent on hosting and infrastructure through ticketing. But the games had converted spectators to tourists, including frequent American visitors, and eventual permanent residents who were gob smacked by the low cost of living in France. And this boosted trade. Paris had put on a good, convincing-enough show, and this naturally yielded monetary benefits. Soon after, in 1926, the country entered its Franc Poincare (named after its finance minister) zenithal era, as rates of exchange lowered, and the economy prospered.

This was a massive shift—one many bidding countries looked forward to achieving and even beating—and one that may have influenced the use of the Olympics for political propaganda years later. 

The next host, Amsterdam, which had initially bid for 1924, experienced a better economic impact than Paris. It had spent $1.183 million and recovered $1.165 (about $38 million and $86 million, in today’s dollars), with a negligible loss of $18,000 ($585,000). It was also the first to introduce brand-sponsored marketing through Coca-Cola, providing American teams 1000 crates of their drink. 

The Los Angeles Olympic games of 1932 were better still—superb even—and are referenced in the list of historically successful Olympiads. It’s a usual example of why some economists posit that the Olympics could be a significant financial decision. ILA powered through the limitations of the Great Depression in America with sufficient architectural, monetary, and innovative strategies. Planners considered the futuristic use of Olympic infrastructure, the safety of local communities, and the economic recession of that time—and finished with a $1 million ($32 million today) profit. It was the first Olympics not to lose money. 

After the Olympics in Los Angeles, it had been established that the games were potentially a great tool in reaching peaceful international relations, especially after global conflict, scoring trade boosts, and championing a colossal increase in tourism. But the path the Olympics took after Los Angeles, politically and economically, was a sharp left.

Germany’s Budget-busting Extravaganza

Adolf Hitler was fascinated with the widespread popularity of the recent games. He saw the Olympics as a vehicle to demonstrate his racial superiority ideologies, highlight the power of Nazi Germany, and exert a propaganda coup. “1936 Berlin was driven by Hitler’s desire to show off Nazi Germany and announce to the world how special they were,” Skyles tells Worth. “Since then, many of the games have been driven by politics and not common sense or for the benefit of the people.”

Berlin 1936 cost more than $500 million in today’s dollars and was 10 times more expensive than any preceding games, putting Germany in more debt than all previous host countries combined. It was meant to be outrageously extravagant like nothing ever seen before and signal the return of Germany to the global stage after its defeat in World War I. Hitler’s unsuccessful plan plunged Germany into an economic crisis, but he had carved a new path for the Olympics. 

The cost of the Olympics in the interwar era had grown naturally, but not exorbitantly, as attendance increased, participating countries multiplied, and brand awareness through the games improved. But what Hitler did in 1936 changed the economy of things forever. It created a new hope: the possibility of a global legacy. The recent Olympics era strayed far from De Coubertin’s original ideas. It gave the Olympics a fresh motto and told developing countries that the games could be their ticket to gaining global recognition. At the same time, it made industrialized countries more energized than ever.

“Each city [after Berlin] had a specific reason why it wanted to host the Olympics, and in most cases, it was to make their country appear to be a global leader. To some extent, they were successful,” Baim tells Worth.

The Modern Olympics Spending Spree

There was a 12-year break due to the Second World War after Berlin in 1936. The cost of the Olympics reverted to tens of millions of dollars for a time, a typical rate for hosting it in the interwar period. But costs soon rose with economic growth.

The Olympics after the ‘60s signified the world’s recovery from the war. It was now visible that a state could assert itself through the games. Bidding became tougher as countries scurried for the chance to show how much development they had made through the world’s center stage, the idea of exerting themselves as global leaders, and the potential economic gains (which they believed would overshadow the projected costs incurred by host cities). 

Mexico, the first developing country to host the Olympics, was able to assert itself as a contemporary, cosmopolitan country through the flamboyant sports and housing architecture it built (and that remains useful). But this meant using large amounts of public funding and even massacring student protesters who sought to use the games’ global popularity to demand democracy and the elimination of authoritarianism. 

The city of Rome could flaunt its high-end urban reimagination as it was the first city to get television coverage, but it left a pile of debt ($19 billion today) in its wake. 

Tokyo, in 1964, went as far as spending over $10 billion in national makeovers—from stadiums to transportation infrastructure—which led to a large-scale displacement of citizens and substantial debts. Montreal in 1976 shackled the city with $1.5 billion in debt. “They ran such a huge deficit that the people of Montreal had to pay for it,” says Baim.

What to Expect for Paris 2024

There are decades of overwhelming evidence that hosting the Olympics is a costly investment, in which returns are vaguely probable, but governments remain ever hopeful.

This is hardly surprising as the payoff—when it pays—is also easy to see. The 1988 Seoul Olympics, for example, reimagined the war-linked image of South Korea and brought in investments. Barcelona became a Mediterranean gem after 1992 through modern renovations that showcased its culture and increased annual tourist visitors from 1.8m in 1990 to over 3 million in 2000. London, today, still generates money from its Olympics 12 years ago through several tournaments hosted in the Olympic stadium it built in 2012.

Many hosts have fruitlessly spent much money trying to recreate these successes, and France may be on track to do the same. It is faced with spiraling cost concerns, which made several cities like Boston withdraw their bids. This explains why bidding in general has dropped. There are also problems of rising inflation and existing security challenges, which were a big factor in Japan’s enormous financial losses after Tokyo 2021. Citizens will also leave the city during the games because they think it will be unbearable—hampering shopping, transportation, and basic day-to-day activities.

France could have chosen not to bid for hosting, and nothing would have changed. As Rewilak insists, countries like it don’t need to assert themselves as global leaders, nor do they need the Olympics to boost their economy. “The Olympics is not necessary to place Paris on the map. People go to Paris no matter what,” he says. 

Mixed Signals

The country’s intent for hosting the Olympics remains somewhat vague, especially with a lot of downsides threatening its success. However, France’s evacuation of homeless people out of Paris ahead of the Olympics is an angle to consider for Baim, as he thinks it is a move to hide the city’s problems from citizens and visitors.

“The Olympics are sometimes bread and circuses to keep people’s minds off of a country’s problems,” he says. “Paris may be motivated to host the Olympics to keep Parisians and the press distracted from its number of unhoused. I think it’s the most efficient way to distract people.” Rewilak adds, “If the movement and transfer of homeless people stops—or there is movement back to Paris—after the games, it may tell the full story.”

In 2020, the IOC, an institution with a history of bribery and corruption and involvement in hospitality and doping scandals, put out a strategic roadmap agenda. The agenda seeks to reform the Olympics and the IOC. And Paris, as a host choice, may be part of it. “This isn’t a sullied country using the Olympics to improve its image. This is a sullied Olympics using a country to decontaminate itself,” Jon Werthiem, Sports Illustrated executive editor writes.

There are a few economic upsides to cling to in France’s story, though. Firstly, its eco-smart and sustainability plans to make the games pro-bike, pro-pedestrian, anti-jet, and anti-car are forward-thinking and will save costs. Secondly, Paris may be able to replicate the efficiencies of London 2012 and L.A 1984, since—like those former hosts—it doesn’t need to construct any new buildings, just rehab old ones. 

France has had the ball in its court since 2017, and in a few months, it’ll play before global spectatorship. If the country has learned from mistakes of past hosts and has properly executed its pre-game strategies, it’ll be evident in the aftermath of the tournament. If not, the results would hardly be surprising.  

Several studies published last year have revealed one particular difference that should be grounds for measured optimism. Figures for office occupancy and downtown recovery tend to look a lot better in smaller cities than in the biggest markets—a fact often lost in the media. For instance, building-security firm Kastle’s heavily reported count of badge swipes covers only the top 10 metros, and shows only slow back-to-work progress. 

Big Back-to-Work Contrasts Between Cities

A fuller picture comes from a trio of academic researchers who analyzed smartphone-location data that business-intelligence firm SafeGraph had collected through mid 2022. Their “Remote Work and City Structure” study, published in July of 2023 by the National Bureau of Economic Research, found that while trips to central business districts remained at about 60% in the largest cities, they had, on average, returned to pre-pandemic levels in smaller cities. 

The central-business-district traffic stats were especially bad for the largest cities, with Chicago, Los Angeles, and New York all under 50% CBD visits—and sometimes closer to 40%—during the time frame of this study.

Research published last July by Stanford University’s Institute for Economic Policy Research adds another dimension. In the “The Evolution of Working from Home,” researchers observed that “the work-from-home rate rises strongly with population density,” accounting for more than 40% of all paid workdays in the highest tier of urban density that three researchers surveyed. 

A similar pattern surfaces in the findings of the University of Toronto’s Downtown Recovery Rankings project, also based on phone location data. Its roster of the top ten cities with the highest percentages of unique visitors to downtown (relative to a 2019 baseline) features only one city among the ten biggest in the country: Phoenix. 

That list also includes some striking contrasts between bigger and smaller cities separated by under 100 miles. Milwaukee’s 86% recovery far outpaced the 61% stat for Chicago, just down Lake Michigan, and the 87% figure for Colorado Springs easily bests Denver’s 67%. 

Experts point to a few factors that can explain this divergence: the types of employers and professions, the pain of commutes for them, where people live, and how much they might be willing to pay to live closer to those jobs.

Some Professions Demand More Office Time

“The difference is huge,” says Nicholas Bloom, an economics professor at Stanford and one author of the research paper. “The key driver of this is industry.” 

As that report notes, work-from-home rates vary widely by industry sector. Information technology was most tolerant, with employees reporting that they worked an average of 2.55 days a week from home in the first half of 2023. 

Financial and insurance came in second, with 2.28 WFH days a week reported, followed by professional and business services (for example, consulting and accounting), at 2.04 days a week.

Sectors that require hands-on, face-to-face work—hospitality and food services, transportation and warehousing, retail and manufacturing—all had employees reporting less than a day a week of remote work. 

In other words, the high profile of finance in New York and information technology in San Francisco helps explain their lagging return-to-work rates. Higher shares of blue-collar work can lead to different outcomes elsewhere—like Milwaukee.

“We’ve seen about 70 new companies move in who are mostly high-tech manufacturing,” says Corey Zetts, executive director of Menomonee Valley Partners. 

That neighborhood west of downtown Milwaukee has a history of manufacturing that left a legacy of pollution. But its 21st-century version is greener. Zetts noted the growing presence of the Spanish firm Ingeteam, which builds components for wind and solar energy installations and is now moving to build EV chargers in Milwaukee. 

“For us, we’re really seeing things return to normal,” she says. “On any given day, the parking lots, the bike racks, look like they did in 2019.”

Remote Work’s Effects on Neighborhoods

Ferdinando Monte, a professor at Georgetown University and one author of “Remote Work and City Structure” noted that when professional tasks can be done remotely, workers’ interest in going downtown can vary based on their odds of having interesting interactions with other people at work. 

“For bigger cities, a lot of the value was in personal interactions,” he says. But as more of your coworkers aren’t there, that becomes a bit of a vicious circle.

Monte added that reduced in-office populations can also drag down employment in sectors that assume in-person work, citing trends in food service work around Washington.

“Total employment in restaurants is basically at pre-pandemic levels,” he says. “But in the last year, all of the jobs that have been added have been added outside D.C. proper.” 

Long Commutes Can Hinder the Return-to-Work Process

Scoop Technologies, a San Francisco developer of workforce collaboration services, maintains a Flex Index of remote-work flexibility that reveals a similar pattern between bigger and smaller markets. 

The firm’s list of the 10 most flexible metro areas is based on estimates from employee surveys and publicly posted office-presence requirements covering 8,000+ companies. It leads off with San Francisco and San Jose, followed by Austin, Seattle and Boston. Meanwhile, its list of the 10 least flexible metros is all such smaller cities as Chattanooga, Wichita, and Tulsa. 

Rob Sadow, Scoop co-founder and CEO, pointed to another key issue: “the underlying traffic and pain in getting back to the office.”

In other words: more stoplights and brake lights ahead mean less willingness to get in the car and turn the key (or press a “start” button). 

“Atlanta tends to have a little bit lower return to office rates compared to more suburban or rural areas in Georgia and the Southeast,” Sadow says, nodding to the commuter congestion routinely clogging the ribbons of concrete that slice through the Peachtree City. “And part of that is driven by the traffic situation.”

The Stanford paper observed that firms in the information, finance, and business-services sectors are particularly prone to inflicting bad commutes on their employees because they cluster in dense urban centers.

As the report concluded: “That makes it all the more appealing to avoid the commute, thereby saving time, money, and aggravation.”

Census Bureau data about pre-pandemic commute times may also serve as a forward-looking indicator about workers’ willingness to get in a car, board a train or bus, or hop on a bike. Compare, for example, the 2019 one-way averages for New York and San Francisco—38 minutes and 35 minutes—with Milwaukee’s 24 minutes. 

“Our commute times have never been very bad,” says Zetts—who also says she’d like to see the neighborhood’s pre-pandemic bus service restored.

Monte noted that larger metros should be able to offset bad driving commutes with better public transit: “Bigger cities tend to be the ones that have better transportation infrastructure.” 

But many transportation services, such as the Washington area’s Metro heavy-rail system, face severe funding shortfalls in part because fewer people are working in offices and paying transit fares. 

Many employers have now moved to parcel out the pain by requiring workers to show up in the office for only part of the week. Kastle’s stats now include a peak-day graph, which has been showing Tuesday as the top in-office day for hybrid workers.

“I think we will increasingly settle into two to three days at the office, two to the three at home,” Sadow says. “When three goes to four is when employees find they’re really frustrated.” 

Monte says he’s seen the same, calling three days of five in an office “kind of the norm.”

Longer Commutes from Big Suburban Homes

Where and how people live can also affect how anxious they are to resume working in offices. The Stanford paper noted another reason for high work-from-home rates in information, finance and insurance, and professional and business services. They pay more, and that additional income often results in larger abodes that people may be more reluctant to leave.

As the paper’s authors write: “Higher earners typically have nicer homes with more room for a home office.”

In a guest post on Scoop’s blog last April, University of Southern California economics professor Matthew E. Kahn crunched Flex Index workplace-flexibility metrics with Zillow median home-price data and found a link. A doubling of home prices was correlated with a six percentage-point drop in onsite-only workers. 

He also found that companies based in more liberal states, as measured by President Biden’s share of the popular vote in 2020, were more likely to allow WFH. Commented Kahn: “Blue State bosses of firms are more likely to be progressives who prioritize worker quality of life and want to help family-focused workers to ‘have it all’.”

That may track with all 10 of the cities at the least-flexible end of the Flex Index being in states that voted for Trump (Arkansas, Florida, Oklahoma, Kansas, Kentucky, and Tennessee), many of which also have smaller cities. 

The NBER paper, meanwhile, found that the economic incentives worked the other way in cities with higher return-to-work metrics: Workers were more willing to pay extra for housing closer to their jobs.

What Monte described as “that willingness to pay to be close to office work”—more inelastic demand, in economic terms—declined for both large and small cities at the start of the pandemic. “But then it returned to where it was for these smaller cities.” 

Either way, an employee’s choice of housing can constrain their future workplace choices for years to come. As Monte put it: “The people that used to live there now live outside.” 

Remaking Cities for Workers

Many cities are now working to square the circle by moving away from neighborhood monocultures, with offices in a business district and housing nowhere close, in favor of mixed-use quarters that have office and residential on the same block or within blocks. 

One common shortcut to that is to convert office buildings into housing—assuming their floor layouts allow a subdivision of a cubicle farm into apartments. That has the added advantage of eliminating the need to find new office tenants for those structures.

And even cities that have done well at getting people back to offices are taking this route. “We are seeing some conversions to residential,” Zetts says of downtown Milwaukee.

“We are moving increasingly to a world where people are going to live and work close to each other,” says Sadow. “The era of Microsoft creating the Redmond campus where 50,000 people work is probably past.”