Instagram served me a post that I didn’t ask for. I read the whole thing and then hated myself a little. Classic.
It’s in Italian, sorry to the international readers. You can bridge that gap in about four seconds these days, and the point is universal anyway.
The post is about Milan. Friends of the author(s) keep leaving because the city has become too expensive and too competitive, and the people who stay keep losing the people they love. The author treats this as a new, Milanese phenomenon.
That was the first thing that bugged me. It isn’t new and it isn’t Milan. It’s been happening everywhere for at least 20 years, and I know because I lived it.
The expat treadmill
Eighteen years ago I moved from Milan to Luxembourg. Back home, or to borrow from the post, I was “the guy who found an opportunity abroad.” In Luxembourg my social life was a constant churn. People came and went. After a while, I was even able to produce a reliable stat. The first breaking point was around 6 months and the big one was at 2 years. I left after 6 (years). Some friends lasted all 18, are still there, and even got the passport.
It’s not pleasant. When you’re far from home, every friendship takes effort and every departure is a loss.
It also explained something I’d misread for years. I used to think expats rarely befriended locals because of different habits. (My wife insists we say “immigrants,” and she’s right.) The real reason is simpler. Locals have been burned before, and they don’t want to pay the same tuition twice.
I’ve had this conversation, almost word for word, with other parents at my kids’ school here in Switzerland. They hold back because they know we might leave. Why invest in a relationship with a short expected duration? That’s a rational response to incentives, and I can’t even be annoyed at it.
Making peace with the half-life
After two decades I’ve made peace with it. You’ve probably heard the line about not crying because it’s over but smiling because it happened. It sounds like a refrigerator magnet, but it works as a mental model. Go into the next friendship knowing its duration is uncertain and the exit is less brutal.
And a departure isn’t a hard stop. My 7-year-old FaceTimes her London friends regularly and visits about once a quarter. They visit us too. Last weekend a family that moved back to Boston two years ago called us because they had a layover in Zurich and wanted to meet. Friendship survives distance at a cost. It’s just a different cost.
My friends who never left our hometown probably wouldn’t get this. But it’s doable.
I’ve written before that I always feel a bit “not at home” here. Zurich could be the last stop or I could leave in six months. I don’t (fully) control that, and it’s not ideal. But I prefer it to the alternative. Everything is a trade, and the skill is knowing what you’re buying, what risk you’re carrying, and why you chose it.
What the post gets wrong
The author sees all this as a force acting on them, something they can’t control. That’s only partly true.
Living in constant competition for your spot is exhausting, and I understand why people are unhappy about it. But it’s just a market doing what markets do, which is allocate scarce resources. The post even admits Milan offers opportunities that are almost unique in Italy. High demand for a scarce thing means competition. That’s the price tag.
Why Milan costs what it costs
Part of the cost comes from Italy itself. Ineffective, sometimes counterproductive economic policy makes Milan less attractive than other European cities, and in a way you can’t see, it also holds prices down, because fewer people want to move there. Look at electricity or taxes generally. Both are far higher in Milan than in Zurich, a city everyone calls expensive. Taken alone, those things push people toward other destinations.
Then there are the local quirks, and in most of the world these reduce to one thing: housing.
The fix is easy to state. Build more houses.
It’s also easy to see why it doesn’t happen. The people who gain from cheaper housing are the ones who don’t own yet. The people who lose, or think they lose, are the ones who already do. Now ask who votes for the mayor. And ask who can speed up or block new construction.
There’s a subtler force too. We all want a lively city, but we don’t want a crowded one. Nobody likes traffic jams or packed trams. So actively or passively, we all help keep a lid on the supply a city can produce.
You have to outwork the next guy
So “trying hard” to keep your spot isn’t enough. You have to try harder than the person next to you. If you think about it, that’s been true of almost everything: getting into university, getting the job, finding the partner.
I was listening to Cem Karsan the other day talk about how life is unfair. and how few people cope with that. I haven’t even mentioned luck here, and luck matters. You can push harder and still end up behind someone who pushed less. Maybe your sector fell out of fashion. Maybe your employer lost to a competitor. Maybe you decided you don’t want to push that hard, which is a legitimate choice.
On this point I agree with the author: don’t read it as personal failure. But also own the fact that you control your inputs and not your outcomes. Your results depend on what everyone else is doing too. Get over it. Nobody is “taking away” your friendships or your happiness. You were never owed either. (Santa isn’t real either, while we’re at it.) Call me cynical, but that’s how it is.
Most of the author’s frustration comes from the feeling that something is being taken. It isn’t, or at least no more than the author took their own spot from someone else. It’s the old attribution bias. When I get the promotion, it’s about me. When I get fired, it’s about someone or something else.
A listener asked on our podcast: “What do I do about rising inflation? My margin gets eroded every day. Is there a solution?” I get the feeling. The answer never changes. Get a better-paying job. Ask for a raise. Compete and win.
A few days ago an Italian entrepreneur, Salvatore Aranzulla, complained that AI cut his company’s revenue by 80%. His business is essentially a website of long guides for fixing simple tech problems and choosing products. (I’ve never visited, so I’m going on reputation.) I doubt he ever considered that his site disrupted someone else’s business. Maybe the people who got paid to fix tech problems for the less tech-savvy lost customers to his guides. Maybe the makers of some widget saw sales drop because of his reviews. He surely cost someone something. But I bet he never saw it that way. It’s just AI wrecking his business.
The lemonade
Italy has long worshipped the stable job. Against that background, a post like this shouldn’t surprise anyone.
Living like this isn’t great, and I say that as someone who feels it. But I’ve also been among its first beneficiaries. And I don’t think the alternative is appealing. Unless you were born King, you’re better off squeezing the lemons you have than daydreaming about a world that doesn’t exist.
What I am reading now:
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