The Hard Truth About New York

In the weeks following September 11, New York newspapers ran stories about various "plans" for rebuilding the World Trade Center: Some of the papers ran architectural sketches of what the new towers might look like. Prospective developers were asked to comment. No less a fool than Donald Trump was quoted at length about how it should be done.

It was an odd bit of boosterism, since all involved (the newspapers, developers, politicians, and various commentators) understood perfectly well that the World Trade Center would never be rebuilt -- could never be rebuilt -- because no insurance company in the world would ever underwrite such a risk. And even if there was an insurer willing to underwrite such a risk, no company in the world would take office space anywhere north of the "new" World Trade Center's 50th floor.

The stories about rebuilding the World Trade Center come less frequently now, but they still pop up from time to time. They are emblematic of New York's denial -- everybody's denial -- about the reality of the city's near future.

The fact is, the city is in for a very bad run. New York is estimated to be $4 billion in the red as of this writing -- and that amount is likely to rise to $6 billion. As the city's fear-driven economy continues its slide and as tax receipts consequently fall, the current $4 billion shortfall will probably double in 6 to 12 months. New York's annual budget is roughly $40 billion. Does anyone believe that the newly elected mayor will go to the policemen's union, the firefighters' union, or the rescue workers' union and say, "Guess what? You'll have to take a 25% pay cut"? Does anyone believe that the next mayor will turn to the teachers' union and the sanitation workers' union and say, "We can't cut police and fire, so we're going to have to cut your wages and benefits by two-thirds"?

The "solution" will be higher taxes. The commuter tax, repealed three years ago, will be reinstated. The sales tax will be hiked. Various usage fees will increase. And all of that -- and more -- will not be enough to cover the shortfall. To cover the shortfall, New York must get an average of $1,000 more from its 10 million regular consumers. That's simply too much to expect, given the current economic realities. It wasn't too much when all of the hotels were filled, when the restaurants were putting tables out on the street to accommodate the crowds, and when Broadway shows had lines around the block. But those days are long gone -- in fact, they started to fade well before September 11. People now come to New York to see ground zero, not Riverdance. And they don't feel like eating afterward.

There's a tipping point to everything, and New York is in danger of tipping over. In the wake of September 11, the financial-services industry has begun to decamp to Connecticut and New Jersey. The stock exchanges will have to build virtual and redundant systems away from Manhattan. Truth be told, the only reason financial-services companies are in New York is because every other financial-services company is there. If Citigroup, Merrill Lynch, and Morgan Stanley move half of their operations to Stamford, Connecticut, then a kind of critical mass will be there. Once that starts to happen, it takes on a life of its own -- and all of a sudden, being in New York, which once seemed so essential, will not seem so important anymore. Fidelity does just fine in Boston.

Before the Internet, you really did have to be there to play the game. But you don't now. Think about the news business, another huge New York employer. When the World Trade Center towers came crashing down, the offices of the Wall Street Journal (located across the street at the World Financial Center) suffered collateral damage. Meanwhile, editors and reporters, working with cell phones, beepers, and email, regrouped in cyberspace and put out the next day's edition without missing a beat. They didn't need to reside at the World Financial Center. The lesson was quickly learned: A month later, Peter Kann, who runs Dow Jones (which owns the Journal), announced that more than half of the Journal's New York staff would be relocated to New Jersey.

In the 1950s and 1960s, white flight from "inner cities" transformed the American landscape. In this decade, byte flight, fueled by fears of terrorism, will do the same. And nowhere will this occur faster than in New York. This is the truest thing that I can tell you: All of those commuters who ride trains, subways, and buses, and who drive their cars into Manhattan, don't want to do it anymore. If it were possible, they would work anywhere else but there.