(4 of 5)
Almost by definition, a city can be great only at the expense of other cities that are less than great. If the power, money and creativity that are now centered in London were divided with Birmingham, Birmingham would not become great, but London would be irretrievably lessened. A delight to live in and a joy to behold, Rome has certain qualities of greatness. It is redolent with tradition; it is the center of a universal religion; it has a people with character and a lively sense of politics. But it does not quite make the first rank of cities today, if only because Milan—cold but confident—controls too much of Italy's wealth and industrial power. The U.S., which is rich in both money and people, ought to be able to support two great cities, perhaps one on either coast, but it does not. A half-century ago, San Francisco looked as if it might become the great city of the West. Instead, it has remained a charming, eccentric and physically beguiling minor metropolis. Los Angeles, in the unlikely event that it ever should overcome its centrifugal forces, may yet become the Western colossus. Though it has many parts of greatness, Chicago, on the other hand, has always thought of itself as the "second city"—and so it always will be, if not third or fourth. Even without the political power that resides in a national capital—one of the usual prerequisites for civic greatness—New York, the cultural, financial and commercial capital, is thus the only truly great city in the U.S.
Pleasures and Vices
A city does not have to be comfortable to be great, but it nonetheless must have the amenities to make life tolerable. Misery should not force thousands to live on the streets, as it does in the big cities of India; residents must be able to move from one place to another without undue strain or great delay; the conditions of life, ranging from prices to climate, cannot be totally oppressive. A great city also must have within its boundaries a large leisured class to pay for the culture and pleasure that are the outward signs of its preeminence. Money cannot buy a great city, but a great city must have money. The late Ian Fleming's definition of a "thrilling city," which emphasized girls and food, was adolescent, but he was not altogether wrong. A great city is always tolerant, even permissive, and provides outlets for a wide range of human pleasures and vices.