America’s urban cities are at an inflection point. Persistent poverty, failing infrastructure, declining trust in government, and uneven economic growth are no longer abstract policy debates—they are lived realities. In cities like Trenton, New Jersey, these challenges have compounded over decades, not because of a lack of concern, but because of a failure to govern with discipline, strategy, and accountability.
That is the intent behind my new book, A City Worth Fighting For. While grounded in Trenton’s experience, the book speaks to a national reality: urban decline is not inevitable, but recovery requires a fundamentally different approach to leadership and governance.
In nearly two decades as a resident of Trenton, I have never seen—or heard of—a comprehensive operational strategic plan guiding the city’s future. Some will rightly point to the Trenton 250 plan, which represents outstanding, thoughtful work—a visionary, aspirational, and commemorative framework that reflects deep civic engagement, historical awareness, and hope for what the city can become. That vision matters. Trenton 250 should serve as the city’s north star—but it cannot function as its operating manual. Vision alone is not strategy.
What cities like Trenton lack is an operational roadmap that translates aspiration into execution: clear priorities, sequenced initiatives, defined ownership, performance measures, timelines, and fiscal discipline. A true strategic plan aligns policy goals—such as poverty reduction, service reliability, and economic growth—with day-to-day operations across departments. Without that connective tissue, even well-intentioned efforts remain fragmented.
Equally absent from the conversation is budget strategy. Cities cannot afford to simply roll budgets forward year after year. When spending is not intentionally reviewed, waste becomes institutionalized. Reducing unnecessary expenses, improving efficiency through process quality, and reappropriating savings toward higher-impact outcomes—such as infrastructure reliability, workforce development, and poverty reduction—must become standard practice, not exceptional leadership.
One of the most troubling omissions in urban governance is the lack of poverty reduction as a measurable goal. Too often, cities focus on managing poverty rather than reducing it. Programs multiply, spending increases, yet systems remain unchanged. Poverty persists not because of a lack of effort, but because its root causes are embedded in how government operates.
Another missing word is quality. Without process quality, government produces predictable results: waste, inefficiency, missed timelines, inconsistent enforcement, and poor service delivery. Cities are complex enterprises—multi-million and multi-billion-dollar organizations responsible for infrastructure, public safety, utilities, and economic development—yet they are rarely managed with the rigor expected of high-performing institutions.
Faith institutions, foundations, and nonprofit organizations do extraordinary work every day treating the symptoms of hardship. Churches, mosques, synagogues, and community-based organizations provide compassion, stability, and hope. But compassion cannot substitute for competence. When government systems are fragmented or inefficient, even the best community efforts are forced to operate upstream against a constant current of dysfunction.
The challenges ahead are intensifying. Aging infrastructure, fiscal constraints, workforce shortages, climate risk, and rising public expectations will demand more from local government—not less. Federal infrastructure dollars and private investment offer opportunity, but without capable governance, those resources will be wasted or reinforce existing inequities.
This moment demands more than passion. It demands competence.
Trenton is not unique—but it is instructive. If cities are governed like enterprises with a moral mission—anchored in strategy, process quality, fiscal discipline, and accountability—urban America still has a future worth fighting for. The ultimate measure of leadership is not rhetoric or activity, but whether systems are redesigned to reduce poverty, improve services, and restore trust. That is the central argument of A City Worth Fighting For: government must work better so people can live better. Our obligation is simple and profound—to govern with intention and competence so that our neighborhoods and our cities are, in fact, decent places to live. The window to act is closing.