American Neighborhoods: What France Has Abandoned

Published on April 9, 2026

I went to Chicago last May. It wasn't my first road trip to the United States—I had already visited Minneapolis, Houston, Boston, New York—but this stay crystallized an observation that had been troubling me for a long time. A fundamental difference in how cities work between the United States and France. A difference so striking that it made me realize what we had lost.

Neighborhoods That Still Work

I spent several days exploring Edgewater, Fulton Market, Lincoln Park, and Lincoln Square. Ordinary Chicago neighborhoods, with no particular pretension. And yet, something struck me immediately: these neighborhoods work .

The streets are clean. The people you pass look normal, dressed to go somewhere. It's not a question of aesthetics or wealth, it's more subtle than that. It's in how they walk. People walk with a specific purpose: they're going to work, shopping, taking their kids to school. Nobody is hanging around for no apparent reason.

I went into Target, McDonald's, Five Guys. Each time, the same impression: normal people who know why they're there. They take what they need and leave. Nothing extraordinary, and that's precisely what's remarkable.

In the morning and evening, Edgewater transforms into an improvised sports course. Dozens of joggers, cyclists, men and women in equal numbers . It's not a passing fad, it's a routine embedded in daily life. People take care of themselves because they know where they're going and what they can achieve.

More affluent neighborhoods amplify this impression. In Minneapolis and Houston, I had stumbled upon upscale residential areas. Impressive houses, carefully maintained parks, an atmosphere that breathes success. Not ostentatiously, just a visual certainty: these people worked hard and it shows. It's inspiring.

The French Contrast

Let's come back to today, 1 PM. I'm out of bananas, so I go down to the convenience store below my apartment in Toulouse. The first customer at the checkout is wearing flip-flops—it's 50 degrees outside—without socks, and is buying vodka. The second is visibly already drunk and is getting rum and a can of beer.

And there I am, with my bananas.

This isn't a moral judgment about these people. It's a factual observation: there's nobody else. No guy in a suit coming out of work to buy a sandwich. No mother getting yogurt for her kids. No normal people doing their normal shopping.

This scene perfectly illustrates the French problem: we all live mixed together in the same neighborhoods, regardless of our lifestyles or ambitions, whether you're poor or rich. The result is a form of uniform mediocrity. You pay full price for your apartment but your neighbor is subsidized. In the end, you encounter exactly the same people at the supermarket.

When I go to the Carrefour near my place, the observation is similar. Many people who seem idle, without a specific purpose. Compare that with my visits to American supermarkets: everyone knows what they're doing there.

Take the Canal du Midi in Toulouse. Theoretically, it's the perfect place to exercise. In practice, it's empty 90% of the year. The first two weeks of nice weather in March, the two weeks of back-to-school in September, and then nobody. The Canal lateral near my place? Deserted.

The Difference in City Centers

We like to mock American city centers. Too empty, without charm, without that European architectural beauty. But let's observe what actually happens there.

Manhattan is full of people who work. Office towers, businesses, shops open all day. At noon, restaurants are packed with professionals on their lunch break. And most importantly, people live there. Yes, it's expensive, but if you earn a decent living, it's conceivable. You can live where you work, in a real functional home.

Now, Paris. Very few people actually work in the center of Paris. Large companies are on the outskirts: La Défense, Courbevoie, Boulogne-Billancourt, etc. For housing, it's even worse. Nobody lives in the city center. It's simply financially unthinkable, even with an excellent salary. Parisians live in overpriced 480 sq ft apartments at the end of the RER line, and spend two hours a day commuting.

Toulouse's city center perfectly illustrates this paradox. The Place du Capitole is magnificent, the center is lively and animated enough to blow away any American. But to do what? There's no work. The housing consists of either student apartments, a few rare properties for the ultra-rich, or units owned by public or semi-public organizations.

And let's talk about these students. Spend a Tuesday afternoon in any French city center: hundreds of students on terraces, shopping, hanging around. Don't they have classes? No homework? Where does their money come from?

When I was at Web@cadémie, we had a tracker on our computers. 45 hours per week mandatory, time counted even for bathroom breaks. One week of vacation at Christmas, one month in August. No fall, winter, or Easter breaks. How is it that in French city centers, thousands of students apparently have all their time and money to spend?

Cafés illustrate this cultural difference. In France, terraces are always full of people sipping their coffee for hours. In the United States, people take their coffee to go on their way to work, or sit down with their laptop to work. Two different relationships with time and productivity.

The Parallel with School

This neighborhood system reminds me of how schools used to work. My aunt told me about her studies in France: classes were hierarchical. 6th grade 1 was better than 6th grade 2, which was better than 6th grade 3.

This system created a powerful incentive: if you worked hard, you could move from 6th grade 3 to 5th grade 2 the following year. You found yourself with students at your level, who progressed at the same pace as you.

Thomas Sowell describes something similar in A Personal Odyssey . Coming from a poor neighborhood, he was able to join better classes through his work. Result: he found himself surrounded by people who shared his ambition and will to succeed. It pulled him upward.

Today, everything is leveled. Everyone mixed together, regardless of level. We wait for the slowest, we slow down the fastest. Good students are bored and feel alone. They have nobody at their level to progress with.

Working hard won't make you change classes. You stay stuck with the same classmates, whether you work hard or not.

It's exactly the same problem with neighborhoods. In France, whether you work or not, you stay in the same place. You encounter the same people at the convenience store. You can't visibly "move up."

In the United States, if you work hard and succeed, you can move to a better neighborhood. You find yourself with people who share your ambitions. It's concrete, visible, motivating.

What Makes the American System Inspiring

The real advantage of the American system isn't luxury or wealth itself. It's the inspiration and dynamic it creates.

When you walk around an affluent neighborhood in Minneapolis or Houston and you see these magnificent houses, these impeccable parks, these fulfilled people exercising, it makes you want it. You tell yourself: "I want that. I'm going to work to have it."

In France, this inspiration no longer exists. We all live in the same average neighborhoods. The only difference is the amount of your rent, not your daily environment.

In the United States, people know where they are and what they can gain or lose. This awareness creates visible determination. The number of joggers in Edgewater in the morning and evening is proof. These people take care of themselves because it's part of a larger life project.

And most importantly, you can meet people like you. If you're ambitious and you succeed, you go to a neighborhood of ambitious people. You find yourself surrounded by people who understand you, who share your goals. It creates emulation, opportunities, encounters.

In France, you're scattered among everyone. You feel alone because there's no longer a concentration of people who are like you. They're drowned in the crowd.

The Crime Problem: Two Opposite Approaches

The American system isn't perfect. They have the same problem as France regarding the enforcement of criminal law, but on a smaller scale.

In Chicago, what's happening is revealing. Neighborhoods with crime aren't managed: nobody goes to prison, the police don't really intervene anymore. These areas quickly become unlivable. Nobody wants to live there anymore, prices collapse, and half the city becomes uninhabitable.

As LindyMan explains, half of Chicago is now an area to avoid. I could see it myself: taking the subway south, the change is brutal. The population changes, the streets deteriorate, trash accumulates. People hang around with no apparent purpose. You turn back quickly.

This situation creates enormous pressure on prices in the other half of the city. When half of Chicago is uninhabitable, everyone concentrates on the other half, causing prices to explode.

In France, we've leveled down differently. Crime and problems are distributed everywhere. Result: there's no longer a truly preserved place where you can feel absolutely safe, but there are no completely lost areas either (or at least, not as many).

It's an advantage: you don't risk ending up in a third-world neighborhood. But it's also a disadvantage: you can never really move up and extract yourself from the problem. You encounter it daily, regardless of your personal success.

What We've Lost

This visit to Chicago made me realize what's missing in France: the possibility of seeing your success materialize in your daily environment.

We can no longer surround ourselves with people who are like us. We can no longer live in an environment that reflects our efforts. We can no longer be inspired by the visible success of others.

This system of differentiated neighborhoods, I knew it in France when I was young. It existed. It was taken from us in the name of egalitarianism, by forcibly mixing everyone together.

The result is a form of collective resignation. Why bother if it doesn't change your daily environment? Why work hard if you're going to keep encountering the same people at the convenience store, whether you succeed or not?

The American system, despite its obvious flaws, offers something essential: a visible reason to get moving. The possibility of living the difference between succeeding and stagnating. The inspiration that comes from concretely seeing where you could go.

That's what we're missing. And that's what was stolen from us.