New York and LA don't like each other. That's the story, anyway. East Coast grit versus West Coast sunshine. Subway rats versus canyon coyotes. Pizza that folds versus pizza that doesn't deserve the name. But here's what nobody talks about: people who've actually lived in both cities share a quiet understanding about how the world […]
New York and LA don't like each other. That's the story, anyway.
East Coast grit versus West Coast sunshine. Subway rats versus canyon coyotes. Pizza that folds versus pizza that doesn't deserve the name.
But here's what nobody talks about: people who've actually lived in both cities share a quiet understanding about how the world works that the rest of America finds either baffling or offensive.
I've spent years in both places, and I've watched this play out dozens of times — the moment someone from New York and someone from LA lock eyes at a dinner party in, say, Austin or Nashville, and just know they're operating on the same frequency.
Here's what that frequency sounds like.
1. Ambition isn't a personality flaw
In most of America, saying "I want to be the best at what I do" out loud will get you a sideways look. There's a deeply embedded cultural norm — particularly in the Midwest and South — that ambition should be quiet, humble, and preferably disguised as something else.
In New York and LA, ambition is oxygen. It's the baseline assumption. You moved to one of the most expensive, competitive cities on earth — obviously you want something big. Nobody's going to make you feel weird about it.
This doesn't mean everyone in these cities is a ruthless climber. It means the conversation around wanting more from your life doesn't come loaded with guilt. You can talk about your goals without someone immediately trying to ground you with "but are you happy though?"
According to Bureau of Labor Statistics data, workers who relocate to major metro areas see measurably higher earnings growth — and that's not an accident. These cities select for people who are willing to sacrifice comfort for opportunity.
People from both coasts know this. They just stopped explaining it to everyone else.
2. Paying $18 for a salad makes sense when you understand the actual math
This is the one that drives the rest of the country absolutely insane.
"You paid HOW MUCH for lunch?" is a sentence every New Yorker and Angeleno has heard from a relative back home. And at some point, they both stopped trying to justify it.
Here's what people outside these cities miss: the cost of a salad isn't just ingredients. It's rent on a storefront in a walkable neighborhood. It's wages in a city where minimum wage is $16-17 an hour. It's the convenience of eating well without owning a car or driving 20 minutes to the nearest restaurant.
Both cities have figured out that time is the real currency. When your commute, your network, your cultural life, and your lunch spot are all within walking distance or a short ride, the math changes entirely. You're not paying $18 for leaves and dressing. You're paying for a system that lets you move through your day without burning hours in a car.
People in New York and LA don't even argue about this anymore. They just Venmo and move on.
3. Small talk is a waste of everyone's time
There's a reputation both cities share: people there are "rude."
Spend a week in either place and you'll realize that's not what's happening. What's actually happening is efficiency. People in New York and LA have collectively decided that the 10-minute preamble before getting to the point — how's your family, how about this weather, did you catch the game — is a luxury they can't afford.
This isn't coldness. It's respect for your time and theirs.
Research from the American Psychological Association actually found that people in denser, more economically competitive environments develop faster communication styles as an adaptive behavior. It's not a character defect. It's an environmental response.
Someone from Dallas might find it jarring when a New Yorker cuts straight to business. Someone from Portland might think an LA producer is being "fake" because they smiled and then immediately pivoted to the ask. But people from both coasts understand: the smile was real, the pivot was respectful, and neither of us has time to pretend we bumped into each other by accident.
4. Trees aren't decoration — they're infrastructure
This one surprises people.
You'd think the two most concrete-heavy cities in America would be the last places to care about planting trees. But people from New York and LA are quietly, fiercely aligned on this — and they'll both tell you the rest of the country doesn't take it seriously enough.
New York has planted over a million trees through its MillionTreesNYC initiative. LA has committed to expanding its urban canopy through City Plants, specifically targeting neighborhoods that have been left to bake under asphalt for decades. These aren't feel-good PR campaigns. They're responses to a problem both cities understand in their bones: when you pack millions of people into a dense environment, green space isn't a luxury. It's a survival mechanism.
Research from Nature Scientific Reports found that urban tree canopy directly reduces heat-related mortality, lowers energy costs, and measurably improves mental health outcomes in dense populations. People in New York and LA don't need to read the study. They feel the difference between a tree-lined block and one without it every single day.
In much of America, trees are scenery. Nice to have. A landscaping choice. In New York and LA, people understand that a tree on your block isn't aesthetic — it's the difference between a livable street and an unlivable one. And both cities have decided, independently and without much fanfare, that planting more of them is one of the smartest investments a city can make.
It's a weirdly unifying thing. Ask someone from Brooklyn and someone from Silver Lake what their city needs more of, and before they say anything about transit or housing, there's a decent chance they'll both say trees.
5. Your job title is your introduction, and that's not shallow
"So, what do you do?"
In a lot of America, leading with this question is considered gauche. It implies you're sizing someone up. That you care more about status than substance.
In New York and LA, it's the most natural opening line in the world — and it means something completely different than people think.
It's not "how much money do you make?" It's "what are you passionate enough about to do in a city that will eat you alive if you're not committed?" The question is an invitation to talk about what drives you. In cities where people routinely sacrifice space, savings, and proximity to family to pursue something, asking what that something is feels like basic human curiosity.
The sociologist Richard Ocejo documented this phenomenon in his research on urban work cultures — in high-density creative economies, professional identity and personal identity overlap significantly more than in other parts of the country. People aren't defined by their jobs. But they chose their jobs deliberately, and they want to talk about that choice.
Someone from New York and someone from LA both understand this instinctively. It's everyone else who reads it as shallow.
6. The "cost of living" argument is missing the point entirely
Every Thanksgiving, someone's uncle pulls out the "you know, I could buy a four-bedroom house here for what you pay in rent" line. And every year, people from New York and LA smile politely and change the subject.
Not because the uncle is wrong about the numbers. He's absolutely right. But because the conversation is comparing two completely different value systems.
What the cost-of-living comparison consistently misses is what economists call agglomeration effects — the measurable economic advantages of being physically near other ambitious, skilled people. Your next job, your next investor, your next collaborator isn't a LinkedIn message away. They're at the coffee shop. They're at your kid's school. They're at the bar on Friday.
People who've lived in both New York and LA understand this viscerally. The rent isn't just buying you square footage. It's buying you access to a density of opportunity that simply doesn't exist in most places. And that access compounds over time in ways that a mortgage payment in a mid-sized city never will.
Is it for everyone? Of course not. But the people who've made the trade know exactly what they're paying for — and they're tired of being told they're bad at math.
7. You have to leave to understand why you stayed
Here's the one that catches people off guard.
Almost everyone who's lived seriously in New York or LA has had the moment where they nearly left. The rent hike that broke them. The winter (New York) or the traffic (LA) that finally felt unbearable. The creeping realization that this city doesn't care whether you make it or not.
And many of them did leave — for six months, a year, sometimes longer. They moved to Austin or Denver or Lisbon or Bali. They took the remote job. They got the house with the yard.
And then a strange thing happened. They started to miss it. Not the inconvenience or the expense, but the energy. The feeling of being surrounded by people who are all trying to build something. The random Tuesday night where you end up at a gallery opening talking to someone who changes how you think about your entire career.
A Pew Research study found that a significant number of people who relocate away from major metros eventually return — and that the primary driver isn't economic. It's social and cultural.
People from New York and LA know this truth in their bones: you don't understand what these cities give you until you try living without it. And once you understand it, the complaints about rent and rats and traffic become background noise.
It's the one thing both coasts agree on completely — and the one thing that's almost impossible to explain to someone who hasn't felt it themselves.
The bottom line
New York and LA will keep arguing about bagels and beaches and which city is "better." That argument is eternal and honestly kind of fun.
But underneath the rivalry is a shared understanding about what it means to choose difficulty on purpose — to live somewhere that demands more from you because you believe you have more to give.
That's not elitism. It's a bet on yourself. And people from both cities recognize it in each other instantly, even if they'd never admit it out loud.
What’s Your Plant-Powered Archetype?
Ever wonder what your everyday habits say about your deeper purpose—and how they ripple out to impact the planet?
This 90-second quiz reveals the plant-powered role you’re here to play, and the tiny shift that makes it even more powerful.
12 fun questions. Instant results. Surprisingly accurate.
