Cities<\/a>, my coauthor and I analyse 41 Romanian cities by combining two sources: (i) a large survey (Urban Barometer 2020; N = 13,380); (ii) an “objective” indicator of available amenities, constructed from OpenStreetMap and population data, at a fine scale (1 km\u00b2 grid).<\/p>\n\n\n\nWe use a hierarchical (multilevel) model to delve into and explain what determines satisfaction for those living in cities.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We distinguish dimensions that resonate with everyone: services and facilities, environmental quality (air, noise, cleanliness), governance (efficiency, trust in administration), safety and interpersonal trust, and more general satisfaction (financial situation, employment, etc.).<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The most striking result can be summed up in one sentence. Satisfaction depends heavily on trust, the feeling of security, and governance \u2014 and much less on local economic indicators.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Even more surprising: the “objective” amenities index (QOLI) is actually negatively linked with satisfaction once other factors are taken into account. In other words, in this sample, a city that is better equipped “on paper” does not guarantee a more pleasant experience.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This “services\/amenities paradox” does not mean that infrastructure is ineffective. It means something else. It only produces well-being if residents can picture themselves there, feel legitimate, and move around with confidence. Infrastructure alone does not create the feeling of living in a fair, safe, and reliable city.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
How can we interpret this paradox?<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Several plausible mechanisms emerge, which go far beyond the Romanian example. First, expectations sometimes grow faster than supply. In cities rich in amenities, residents expect a high, consistent, and fair level of service. Any disruption is costly in terms of perception, whether it involves delays, dirtiness, a feeling of neglect, or inequalities in terms of access. A city can therefore be well-equipped and yet frustrating for residents because the gap between the promise and the population\u2019s experience becomes more visible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Next, access matters more than mere presence. The population may perceive a park as being unsafe at night. A tram may operate irregularly. Cultural offerings may be abundant but might socially distance certain groups who do not feel welcome. A liveable city is therefore measured by take-up by the local population, reliability, and inclusivity, rather than by the number of items or services marked on a map.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Thirdly, governance acts as a bridge between infrastructure and well-being. When local authorities inspire trust, residents perceive services as reliable and consistent. They are more accepting of construction, transitions, and compromises because they see a clear direction and the ability to deliver. When trust is low, every malfunction becomes proof that nothing works, even in a city that is objectively well-equipped. Infrastructure stops being a reassuring public good and becomes a source of doubt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Finally, the effects of congestion and comparison weigh heavily for residents. Large cities offer more opportunities, which can boost satisfaction, but they also amplify daily irritations such as noise, travel times, crowding, or a sense of injustice regarding public priorities. Liveability then depends on the ability of local authorities to contain these \u2018\u2019costs,\u201d preserve breathable spaces, and maintain a minimum level of fluidity for the population\u2019s routines.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Quality of life \u2013 keeping daily promises<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
While rankings of the best cities to live in appear every year, they often overlook the essential point. A city is not “liveable” because it has many facilities, but because it keeps its promises every day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For elected officials and public services, it becomes necessary to measure trust and safety with as much seriousness as the kilometres of bike lanes or the number of facilities. This requires monitoring perception indicators, neighbourhood by neighbourhood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Authorities should ensure that access to services is visible and simple. What matters is not only the existence of a service but its continuity, its hours, real-time information, human presence, and mediation when the system malfunctions. This approach also leads to working on usage equity: a premium facility in the center can increase the feeling of exclusion if the outskirts feel forgotten.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Finally, communication should focus on reliability rather than promises, as residents are more likely to forgive a modest but solid offer than a bold ambition that disappoints daily.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Companies and employers must reconsider the challenge of attractiveness in light of the lived experience. One option is to invest in the “last social mile” in a broad sense. For example, partnerships with local associations, home-to-work mobility solutions, working schedules that are compatible with transport, or support for \u2018\u2019third places\u201d and local services.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
These choices improve the real lives of employees. They also encourage avoiding showcase projects that are disconnected. A campus or an iconic headquarters only has a lasting positive effect if the surrounding urban environment works and works for everyone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The question then becomes very simple. When investing in cities, are we looking to build infrastructure\u2026 or to build the trust that can be transformed into quality of life?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\nThis is the English translation of an article first published in French<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n