Every August for the last five years, Condé Nast Traveler has released what's become one of our most shared, discussed, and controversial lists: the friendliest and unfriendliest cities in the U.S. and the world. Our readers nominate cities during the annual Readers' Choice Awards survey, and admittedly, the definition of "friendly" is up to them: Do the locals smile and say "hi" on the street? Do they point you in the right direction when you're standing on a corner, looking befuddled, map out? Or is it more about the friendliness of the city itself—how easy it is to navigate, how safe it feels, how convenient things are? More often than not, it's a mix of the two, but it certainly leads to some impassioned comments. Unfortunately, the list also seemed to perpetuate long-held stereotypes of "dirty," "scary," or "unsafe" cities.

Consider the annual takedown of Newark, N.J.; it consistently ranked as the "unfriendliest city" in the U.S., though sometimes for dubious reasons (did anyone actually go beyond Newark International Airport?). Its residents spoke up in defense of their home, offering a more complete picture of a city that values the arts and diversity. It appeared that, while picks for the friendliest cities seemed thoughtful and varied, the unfriendliest cities were overly simplified. Is Los Angeles unfriendly? To people who hate to drive, absolutely—but that's only one side of L.A. Are rising African cities unfriendly? Or just not built with the tourist in mind, concerned as they are with their rapidly growing economies?

Post-Charlottesville, we want to encourage love, not hate; exploration, not isolation. We'd rather call out the places that make you feel at home, and give other cities a chance to charm you in unconventional ways. That's why we're only publishing the lists of the friendliest cities in the U.S. and world this year. It's time to change the conversation.