There’s a curious intersection outside the local high school in La Crescenta, California. It’s not curious because of its design—nothing fancy, just an unassuming street where kids walk to class, neighbors cross with coffee, and cars glide by with variable awareness. It’s curious because of what it doesn’t have: a stop sign.

Now, you might think: surely, if a stop sign is needed, someone just installs it. But the tale, like so many in our modern civic life, is stranger than fiction and more tragic than epic. One frustrated resident put it plainly: he’d been asking for years. Attending meetings. Raising concerns. But nothing happened. The County’s response? It wasn’t just about installing a sign—it would require a capital improvement project. Studies. Timelines. Reviews. Committees. Years.

This is the Rule of Nobody in action.

Phillip K. Howard coined the phrase “the rule of nobody” to describe the bureaucratic paralysis that defines much of our public life today. It is not the tyranny of an autocrat but the tyranny of systems so rule-bound that no one is empowered to say “yes” or “stop” or “go.” There’s no villain here. Just a system designed to protect itself from mistakes—and in so doing, ensures nothing gets done.

It’s not just stop signs. In Los Angeles County, “public engagement” too often looks like a single workshop on a random weeknight, advertised via a government website few residents have bookmarked, documented in dense PDFs that most will never read. Consider the La Crescenta-Montrose Visioning Workshop—described here and summarized in a PDF. These gatherings, while well-intentioned, suffer from selection bias: the retired, the zealous, the professionally engaged show up. The other 90%—those picking up kids, working a night shift, or simply disillusioned—do not.

This is the shape of our civic decay: rituals of participation without the power to decide. A process, not a plan. We check the box, and call it engagement.

This isn’t about blaming planners or public servants. Many are doing the best they can within rigid constraints. But we must ask: what if the process itself is the problem?

Why can’t all 33,000 residents of La Crescenta glimpse and shape the future of their neighborhood?

Why can’t we use augmented reality to visualize potential changes? Imagine holding up your phone to see what a plaza might look like at the strip mall. Or how bike lanes might feel on Foothill Boulevard.

Why can’t we crowdsource ideas through low-friction digital tools? A simple interface, where one could swipe on sketches of streetscapes like a civic Tinder. It wouldn't replace expert planning—but it would surface the vibe, the desire, the gut-check of a place.

Why can’t we select a randomized sample of residents, like a civic jury, to go deep into the planning tradeoffs? Give them stipends, training, time to dig deep into our shared future. Let them deliberate. Then let them recommend what happens next.

In short: why can’t we do better than nobody?

La Crescenta is a microcosm. What happens here—decisions delayed, processes clogged, public will unheard—happens across the country. The absurdity isn’t just that it takes a capital project to install a stop sign. It’s that this absurdity of ignoring the legitimate requests of the people is accepted as normal practice. It's the resulting cancer that eats at the heart of our civic soul.

As former California Governor Jerry Brown once said in reflecting on civic decline:

“Without the trust of the people, politics degenerates into mere spectacle; and democracy declines, leaving demagoguery and cynicism to fill the void.”

Maybe it’s time to reimagine—not just what our streets look like, but how we decide together.

Let us move from the rule of nobody to the practice of somebody—someone empowered, accountable, and imaginative. Someone who might just be your neighbor.

• Part 1: Street Improvements in La Crescenta (CV Weekly, the local newspaper)

• La Crescenta-Montrose Visioning Workshop Summary PDF

• County Planning Blog Post on the Workshop

• Phillip K. Howard’s book: The Rule of Nobody: Saving America from Dead Laws and Broken Government

• Check out the ongoing saga of the Crosswalk Collective for an LA area revolt against public works procedural purgatory. More here.

• Nurturing an Internet of Oaks – A Protocol for the Foothills

• Out of the Fires: Forging the Future of the Foothills

• Reimagining a dusty abandoned golf course in an anytown suburb of Southern Californi

There’s a curious intersection outside the local high school in La Crescenta, California. It’s not curious because of its design—nothing fancy, just an unassuming street where kids walk to class, neighbors cross with coffee, and cars glide by with variable awareness. It’s curious because of what it doesn’t have: a stop sign.

Now, you might think: surely, if a stop sign is needed, someone just installs it. But the tale, like so many in our modern civic life, is stranger than fiction and more tragic than epic. One frustrated resident put it plainly: he’d been asking for years. Attending meetings. Raising concerns. But nothing happened. The County’s response? It wasn’t just about installing a sign—it would require a capital improvement project. Studies. Timelines. Reviews. Committees. Years.

This is the Rule of Nobody in action.

Phillip K. Howard coined the phrase “the rule of nobody” to describe the bureaucratic paralysis that defines much of our public life today. It is not the tyranny of an autocrat but the tyranny of systems so rule-bound that no one is empowered to say “yes” or “stop” or “go.” There’s no villain here. Just a system designed to protect itself from mistakes—and in so doing, ensures nothing gets done.

It’s not just stop signs. In Los Angeles County, “public engagement” too often looks like a single workshop on a random weeknight, advertised via a government website few residents have bookmarked, documented in dense PDFs that most will never read. Consider the La Crescenta-Montrose Visioning Workshop—described here and summarized in a PDF. These gatherings, while well-intentioned, suffer from selection bias: the retired, the zealous, the professionally engaged show up. The other 90%—those picking up kids, working a night shift, or simply disillusioned—do not.

This is the shape of our civic decay: rituals of participation without the power to decide. A process, not a plan. We check the box, and call it engagement.

This isn’t about blaming planners or public servants. Many are doing the best they can within rigid constraints. But we must ask: what if the process itself is the problem?

Why can’t all 33,000 residents of La Crescenta glimpse and shape the future of their neighborhood?

Why can’t we use augmented reality to visualize potential changes? Imagine holding up your phone to see what a plaza might look like at the strip mall. Or how bike lanes might feel on Foothill Boulevard.

Why can’t we crowdsource ideas through low-friction digital tools? A simple interface, where one could swipe on sketches of streetscapes like a civic Tinder. It wouldn't replace expert planning—but it would surface the vibe, the desire, the gut-check of a place.

Why can’t we select a randomized sample of residents, like a civic jury, to go deep into the planning tradeoffs? Give them stipends, training, time to dig deep into our shared future. Let them deliberate. Then let them recommend what happens next.

In short: why can’t we do better than nobody?

La Crescenta is a microcosm. What happens here—decisions delayed, processes clogged, public will unheard—happens across the country. The absurdity isn’t just that it takes a capital project to install a stop sign. It’s that this absurdity of ignoring the legitimate requests of the people is accepted as normal practice. It's the resulting cancer that eats at the heart of our civic soul.

As former California Governor Jerry Brown once said in reflecting on civic decline:

“Without the trust of the people, politics degenerates into mere spectacle; and democracy declines, leaving demagoguery and cynicism to fill the void.”

Maybe it’s time to reimagine—not just what our streets look like, but how we decide together.

Let us move from the rule of nobody to the practice of somebody—someone empowered, accountable, and imaginative. Someone who might just be your neighbor.

• Part 1: Street Improvements in La Crescenta (CV Weekly, the local newspaper)

• La Crescenta-Montrose Visioning Workshop Summary PDF

• County Planning Blog Post on the Workshop

• Phillip K. Howard’s book: The Rule of Nobody: Saving America from Dead Laws and Broken Government

• Check out the ongoing saga of the Crosswalk Collective for an LA area revolt against public works procedural purgatory. More here.

• Nurturing an Internet of Oaks – A Protocol for the Foothills

• Out of the Fires: Forging the Future of the Foothills

• Reimagining a dusty abandoned golf course in an anytown suburb of Southern Californi