What was it the wise manicurist Madge said in the old TV ads for Palmolive dish soap? Ah yes: “You’re soaking in it.”

In San Francisco, we’re up to our pierced nipples, not just our knuckles, in everything Richard Florida describes in his new book The New Urban Crisis. Economic inequality. Segregation. NIMBYism. A disappearing middle class. Resentment. Florida calls it “winner-take-all urbanism.”

Among Florida’s so-called superstar cities, San Francisco stands out as having a “crisis of success.” I’m sure there are people out there living the SF dream one blissful yoga class at a time who have not noticed, but most of us either feel it personally or can’t avoid everyone else talking about it. You’re probably familiar with the broad outlines:

The Bay Area has 11 of the 28 U.S. zip codes where median home prices top $2 million.

The average San Francisco one-bedroom rents for well above $3,000 a month, by most accounts.

The Bay Area’s income equality, in the top three among large U.S. metro areas by Florida’s measure, is akin to that of El Salvador.

In 2016, South of Market and a few other neighborhoods attracted more venture capital than any other nation outside the U.S.

In more than 25 percent of S.F. neighborhoods, the “least advantaged” are at risk of “substantial” displacement.

I’m cherry-picking a bit, in part because Crisis is packed with data. But suffice to say the myriad charts, maps, tables, and indexes won’t surprise anyone following our civic debates and challenges.

Florida is a professor at the University of Toronto and New York University and co-founder of City Lab. His 2002 book The Rise of the Creative Class not only coined an enduring phrase — he’s good at that — but also celebrated what, in turn, has led to backlash on the left, and more significantly the right.

The creative class is not to blame for the rise of Donald Trump. Still, Crisis is a mea culpa of sorts. Florida notes how Creative Class and all the consulting he’s done since then to help cities capture the shiny technocratic future have steered him to a course correction.

“In little more than a decade, the revitalization of our cities and our urban areas that I had predicted was giving rise to rampant gentrification and unaffordability, driving deep wedges between affluent newcomers and struggling longtime residents,” he writes. “I found myself confronting the dark side of the urban revival I had once championed and celebrated.”

Some local progressives might take this as a welcome renunciation: The main celebrator of the urban tech elite is having a come-to-Peskin moment.

Not so fast. Florida’s new book is also a doubling down: “The way out of the New Urban Crisis [it’s surprising the capitalized phrase doesn’t come with a copyright sign] is more, not less, urbanism.”

He also warns against scapegoating the tech class, arguing that we need more startup culture, not less: “Of course, the migration of high-tech startups and tech workers into urban neighborhoods does put pressure on real estate, and this is especially the case in San Francisco,” but the tech sector is a net positive. This is partly because cities can use the higher tax revenues “to address and mitigate the problems that come with them. High tech doesn’t deaden cities; it increases their innovative capability considerably.”

Is the main celebrator of the urban tech elite having a come-to-Peskin moment? Not so fast.

American urban gentrification has mainly taken place since 2000, but San Francisco is among a few cities (including New York and Boston) where it began in the 1980s and continues apace. While gentrification is definitely a problem in Florida’s worldview, he hedges here and there. It is a “more a symptom of urban success” than a driver of it. In other words, when cities do good things, like encourage transit use and discourage sprawl, there are knock-on effects.

He acknowledges the “cultural erasure” that can turn black- and brown-majority neighborhoods into white ones, but cautions against “knee-jerk resistance to change” or hostility toward new urbanites. “The even more pressing problem” for Florida “is the much larger number of neighborhoods that [gentrification] bypasses entirely, those where racially concentrated poverty persists and is deepening.”

Does this general point about American cities miss the specifics of San Francisco? Yes and no. According to the latest census figures, the city’s African-American population has dropped from 13 percent in 1980 to roughly 6 percent today. The Latino population has plateaued at 15 percent after decades of growth.

Florida doesn’t dispute that the danger of displacement is high. For those who can resist displacement, however, the prospects of upward mobility in San Francisco’s metro area are among the best in the country.

The New Urban Crisis avoids focusing on any one city, let alone ours, but from the many mentions and data points Florida offers, we can glean a few things. San Francisco has a more concentrated core of the hyper-urbanism driving the divide Florida rues. In addition, so much of what our city strives for — political liberalism, economic growth, transit-friendly policies, an educated and creative populace — is correlated with economic inequality and income segregation, according to Florida. SF in many ways is farther along the path of the ideals, as well as the nightmares, of what 21st-century American urbanism represents.