New York City is preparing to move forward with a major redesign of Fifth Ave., transforming the corridor between Bryant Park and Central Park into a more pedestrian-oriented boulevard with wider sidewalks, expanded public spaces, fewer vehicle lanes (supposedly one), additional seating areas, landscaping, and even bike lanes.
For many New Yorkers, the proposal raises a simple question: Why is the city trying to reinvent one of the most successful retail corridors in the world?
For decades, Fifth Ave. has been synonymous with luxury retail. It is home to flagship stores such as Cartier, Tiffany & Co., Gucci, Bergdorf Goodman, Harry Winston, and many of the world’s most prestigious brands. People travel from around the globe to shop there, dine there, stay in nearby hotels, and experience one of New York’s most iconic commercial streets.
Its success was not accidental.
Fifth Avenue became one of the world’s premier shopping destinations because it combined prestige with accessibility. Residents, commuters, tourists, business travelers, and affluent shoppers could reach it easily by taxi, private car, limousine, bus, subway, or on foot. It functioned as both a luxury destination and a vital transportation corridor.
Supporters argue that the redesign will improve the pedestrian experience. Perhaps it will. But anyone who regularly walks through Midtown knows there is another side to the story.
My concern is not simply about traffic. It is about what happens when commercial districts become oversized public gathering spaces.
Recently, my wife and I attended one of the final events at the legendary Sardi’s restaurant before it closed for renovation under its new ownership. Walking from 42nd St. and Seventh Ave. to Sardi’s on West 44th St., we found ourselves navigating what felt more like an obstacle course than a city sidewalk.
There were street vendors selling merchandise, Disney characters soliciting tourists for photographs and tips, dancers performing for crowds that spilled across the sidewalks, and groups of young people congregating with no particular destination. Our walk became a zigzag rather than a straight line.
Some people may view that atmosphere as vibrant and energetic. Others may find it chaotic, crowded, and less inviting.
As a five-time Broadway investor, I understand the importance of attracting visitors to the theater district. But I also understand that the overall experience matters. If getting to the theater feels uncomfortable or inconvenient, some people choose not to come.
That is why I find it interesting that governor Kathy Hochul recently committed another $150 million to support Broadway through tax credits and subsidies. The goal is to keep theaters healthy and preserve one of New York’s signature industries.
Yet at the same time, city planners continue pursuing policies that many believe make Midtown less accessible.
The contradiction is hard to ignore.
On the one hand, government officials are spending hundreds of millions of dollars to encourage people to attend Broadway shows. On the other hand, they are reducing traffic capacity, expanding pedestrian plazas, implementing congestion pricing, and redesigning streets in ways that may discourage visitors from coming into Manhattan.
Perhaps Broadway’s long-term solution is not more subsidies but greater affordability.
Immediately after this year’s Tony Awards, I went online to purchase tickets for a show I wanted to see. A front-row seat was priced at $795. My reaction was immediate: no thank you.
At those prices, it should not surprise anyone that some theaters struggle to fill seats. Empty seats generate no revenue. Full theaters create excitement, concession sales, repeat customers, and positive word-of-mouth.
The same principle applies to New York’s hotel industry.
I recently learned of a luxury hotel with more than 350 rooms that reportedly limits the number of rooms it makes available in order to maintain higher occupancy percentages and room rates. On paper, the hotel may appear to be operating at 50% occupancy. In reality, when measured against its total inventory, occupancy may be closer to 25%.
The owner may prefer higher rates and fewer guests. But fewer guests mean fewer restaurant customers, fewer bar patrons, fewer shoppers, and fewer visitors contributing to the city’s economy.
Go figure.
Accessibility matters. Whether discussing luxury retail, hotels, restaurants, or Broadway theaters, businesses generally perform better when customers can reach them easily and comfortably.
Recently, while walking across Midtown from Park Ave. to Seventh Ave., I was reminded of another challenge facing New York. Between the proliferation of cannabis stores and the widespread public consumption of marijuana, the smell was impossible to avoid. Frankly, I felt like I got high from the secondhand smoke.
Supporters of legalization often point to increased tax revenue. But that argument overlooks the impact on residents, tourists, families, and workers who did not choose to participate. Unlike alcohol, where someone else’s drink generally does not affect the person standing next to them, marijuana smoke often becomes everyone’s experience, whether they want it or not.
Before spending billions redesigning Fifth Ave. and hundreds of millions subsidizing Broadway, perhaps policymakers should focus on making New York cleaner, safer, more affordable, and easier to navigate.
New York became great because of commerce, accessibility, opportunity, and common sense. Fifth Ave. became a global destination because people could reach it. Broadway became a global attraction because people wanted to attend.
Joseph Aquino is president ofJAACRES, Manhattan, N.Y.