Los Angeles: City of Dreams or City in Denial

I should probably start this by saying: I was born in Detroit.

We moved away in '78 but I’ve always been proud of my birth city. Hell, I remain a Detroit Lions fan today; spending many years with nothing but hope and an old Barry Sanders jersey... so I know about both dreams and denial... but I digress.

CITY OF DREAMS OR CITY IN DENIAL

My point is, I've seen what happens when a city built on dreams starts running out of them. And before you say, “But LA isn’t Detroit!”—I know. LA has better weather, better tacos, and significantly fewer buildings set on fire for insurance money. Apologies for bringing up fires in the LA area.... But the thing about decline is that it rarely looks like a collapse from the inside. At first, it’s just a handful of people leaving. Then, it’s a few too many empty buildings. Then, one day, you look around and realize that the middle class has quietly vanished, and no one knows exactly when it happened.

That’s why I can’t help but see some familiar signs.

A Tale of Two Cities in Transition

Picture this: It’s the late 1970s in Detroit. Once a booming metropolis fueled by the auto industry, the city now faces an exodus. Assembly lines are shutting down. Factories stand quiet, their smokestacks no longer billowing. Neighborhoods empty out as the middle class flees to the suburbs, leaving behind abandoned storefronts and hollowed-out streets. The city doesn’t collapse overnight—it erodes, slowly, as people cling to the idea that the golden days might still return.

Now, shift the scene to Los Angeles in the 2020s.

The palm trees still sway, the freeways are still jammed, and the Hollywood sign still casts its familiar silhouette against the hills. But look closer. The middle class is vanishing. Sound stages sit empty, waiting for productions that may never come as studios tighten their belts, move productions out of state, or replace jobs with AI. Writers’ rooms shrink, budgets get slashed, and streaming services cancel shows before they even have a chance to find an audience.

And yet, despite this downturn, LA keeps building. Luxury live/work spaces with floor-to-ceiling windows and rooftop decks rise across the city, promising a curated urban lifestyle—for a price. These high-end units sit half-empty, their rents designed for an economy that no longer exists, while just outside, the unhoused population grows and the people who once made LA’s creative industry vibrant are being squeezed out.

It begs the question: Is LA evolving, or just in denial?

A Familiar Pattern

There are eerie parallels between today’s Los Angeles and Detroit in the late 20th century. Detroit’s collapse was triggered by the decline of the auto industry—an economic shift that gutted the city’s working class. In LA, the entertainment industry, once a reliable path to success, has changed beyond recognition. Streaming, AI, and corporate takeovers have reshaped the business, leaving many longtime professionals struggling to find their footing. The tech industry, once a hopeful economic force in LA, has also begun contracting, with layoffs and relocations to lower-cost states.

I know many editors and producers who once enjoyed a decent middle class life but have recently left Los Angeles for a lower cost of living—Texas, Idaho, Ohio, Maryland... even Florida! And I’ve had countless conversations with others who say, “I’ll give it one more year, but I can’t do another 2024.” 

The reality is, earning a stable, middle-class living in LA is becoming nearly impossible.

What Happens Next?

A city without a middle class is a city that can't sustain itself.

With no middle class, the city shifts into a highly stratified, two-tier system:

• The ultra-rich, who exist in enclaves and are largely insulated from urban decline.

• The working poor, who struggle to afford basic living expenses and take on multiple jobs just to survive.

LA is dangerously close to this cycle. Soundstages are empty. Middle-class creatives are moving out. Small businesses can’t afford rent. Yet the city keeps building luxury apartments and high-end retail, hoping the dream will sustain itself.

At some point, something has to give. Either rents drop, wages rise, or the city’s entire economic model collapses under its own weight. The question is whether LA will fix itself before that happens—or if it will, like other cities before it, wake up one day and realize the dream is over.

Los Angeles has always been built on dreams. But dreams have to evolve.

As someone smarter than me once said, “The only constant in life is change.” The question is whether LA will embrace it before it’s forced to.

What do you think—does LA have a path forward, or is it still pretending nothing is wrong? What can we do to save the dream of Los Angeles?