This article appears in print in the July 2018 issue. Click here to subscribe.

Life in Seattle feels punitive these days. Yes, we have the consolation of living in one of the most beautiful settings for a city anywhere in the world. And there’s never been a time when consolation has seemed more important. We also used to feel like a haven from many problems—a town that figured out the balance between work and play, between pleasure and responsibility, between nature and urban life. Many folks came to Seattle in the late 20th and early 21st centuries looking for comfort, to kick back, to be a little more like their true selves here rather than someone stuck in a rat race. People wanted less glitz and more real; a town laid back enough, you could find yourself. Seattle made it easy. We were relatively accepting, tolerant. Our politics were open, our social hierarchies flat. We were a middle-class city, for better or worse. Big enough to get lost in, small enough to feel comfortable.

But living here feels different now. People move here for ambition, using the city as a stepping-stone to somewhere else. Nearly half of those who move here don’t intend to stay more than five years. As for glitz, luxury high rises now abound. We were once a bit of a haven from urban growth—now we’re the exemplar of it.

For many of us longtime residents, today’s civic life and economic realities feel like a punishment much of the time.

It’s easy to feel punished if you try to go anywhere. There’s a war on bikes, a war on cars, even a war on pedestrians. Streets and sidewalks are being torn up for endless rounds of construction. Even our detours have detours. Roads are on “diets,” parking has been eliminated or priced out of sight. We live in a massive construction zone with the promise of slow progress (a quarter-century wait for light rail’s build-out) and future impediments (taking down the Alaskan Way Viaduct, finishing State Route 520 and repaving Interstate 5). We tell ourselves, “It’s worth it because it’ll all be better someday.” But will it? Will the city ever slow down enough for things to settle, for people to catch up? If you’re here for only a few years, does it matter?

Affordability—the lack of it—feels punitive as well. Seattle’s median home price in April was $820,000—up $43,000 in one month (and likely up even more by the time you read this)! Let that sink in. Rents are sky high. The current cycle of growth thrives on gentrification and displacement—that is its purpose, to increase values, because low-income and settled communities are not profitable. Yet we also punish builders with too many rules and regulations. We’ve divided into YIMBYs and NIMBYs: pro-growth and anti-growth. The world is more complicated than these polar opposites. But our debates often feel like they are fought from two distant corners, each of which is half right.

People are quick to publicly shame anyone they disagree with. I think about the scolding delivered by City Council member Kshama Sawant, who ripped liberals for offering condolences on the death of Barbara Bush; or council member Mike O’Brien being unceremoniously ejected from a Nordic Museum after-party by a host who was mad about a bike path. Community meetings about the homeless have turned nasty as did the debate over a head tax on Amazon and other large employers.