Daniel sent us this one — a thought experiment. He and I get elected to run Jerusalem with a single mandate: prosperity. No coalition horse-trading, no religious-secular blame games, no culture war. Just jobs, affordable housing, and closing the gap with the rest of the country. What do we actually do on day one? And he's right about something upfront — the religious-versus-secular framing has always been a trap. Bnei Brak is more homogeneously religious than Jerusalem and doesn't have the same stagnation. So if religiosity isn't the variable, what is?
The policy choices. That's what's fascinating here. Jerusalem's poverty rate sits at forty-six percent of families below the poverty line. That's according to the National Insurance Institute's twenty twenty-four annual report. And the Central Bureau of Statistics social survey for twenty twenty-three put Jerusalem dead last among Israeli cities over a hundred thousand residents for quality-of-life satisfaction. In a country with Dimona and Kiryat Shmona on the list.
Dead last is almost impressive in its consistency.
It's staggeringly bad. And the municipality's response has been to approve more than forty residential towers over thirty stories, with an estimated sixty percent of units purchased by absentee investors. That's from a Jerusalem Municipality Planning Department internal memo that leaked to Calcalist last year. The municipality isn't just permitting this — their own mission statement has the Jerusalem Development Authority actively marketing these units abroad. They're in the luxury ghost tower business.
Build me a city nobody lives in.
Passive investment housing. Buy the unit, maybe visit for Sukkot, leave it dark the other three hundred and fifty days a year. It's a safe deposit box with a view.
Let's set the stage with the numbers. Forty-six percent poverty. Lowest satisfaction in the country. Sixty percent of university graduates leave within three years of finishing their degrees — that's from the Jerusalem Institute for Policy Research in twenty twenty-three. The city is bleeding its future. And the municipal strategy amounts to building empty towers and hoping something trickles down.
Which it doesn't. The trickle-down theory of luxury housing has been tested in cities from Vancouver to London to Miami and it fails everywhere. What you get is a hollowed-out core, rising land prices that push out the middle class, and a service economy of low-wage jobs catering to people who aren't actually there most of the year.
Here we are. Herman and Corn, newly elected, four-year term, no sectarian baggage. What's the first thing we do?
Day one, first cabinet meeting — we freeze new permits for residential towers above twenty stories. Unless the developer commits to sixty percent of units priced under one point five million shekels, roughly four hundred thousand dollars. And we're using the Planning and Building Committee's discretionary authority under Section sixty-two A of the nineteen sixty-five Planning and Building Law. It's the special conditions clause. It allows municipalities to impose conditions beyond the statutory plan when the committee determines it's in the public interest.
"half our city lives in poverty while we build luxury vaults for foreign investors" feels like it clears the public interest bar.
It absolutely does. The legal mechanism exists. It's been used for far less consequential things — setback requirements, facade materials, parking minimums. Using it to mandate affordability is novel, but not a stretch legally. The developers will sue, of course.
Under what theory?
Property rights under Basic Law: Human Dignity and Liberty. They'll argue the condition constitutes a taking. But the Supreme Court has consistently ruled that zoning conditions serving a legitimate public purpose and not eliminating all economic value are constitutional. The key precedent is the Kiryat HaYovel decision, High Court of Justice case twelve thirty-four slash oh five, which upheld the municipality's right to impose inclusionary housing requirements. The court said the right to property doesn't include the right to maximize profit at the expense of the public good.
We can win that fight. What's policy two?
We redirect the Jerusalem Development Authority's entire marketing budget. Currently they're selling luxury units to investors in Paris and New York. We take that budget — tens of millions of shekels annually — and launch Jerusalem Works. It's an economic development arm that markets the city to tech companies, R and D centers, and advanced manufacturing. The model is Beersheba's advanced technologies park, which started in twenty thirteen with municipal land grants and fast-track permitting. By twenty twenty-three, it had attracted forty companies and created eight thousand jobs.
Eight thousand jobs in a decade on what was basically desert and a promise.
And Beersheba had advantages — Ben Gurion University next door, the IDF moving its tech units south — but Jerusalem has five major universities and colleges. The raw material is here. What we lack is the employer base. Jerusalem Works sets a target of fifteen thousand new high-wage jobs in five years, offering the same deal: subsidized municipal land and fast-track permitting for any company committing to thirty percent local residents.
Local meaning Jerusalem residents specifically?
Not commuters from Modiin or Mevaseret. People who live within the municipal boundaries. The point is to create a tax base and a consumer base that actually lives here. In a healthy city, the daytime population should be larger because people come in to work. Jerusalem has the opposite problem: people leave to work in Tel Aviv.
The ones who stay are disproportionately employed in tourism, government, and non-profits — sectors that don't exactly generate explosive wage growth.
The city's economic structure is fundamentally misaligned with creating prosperity. Policy three is where we address housing directly. Jerusalem owns about twelve percent of developable land within its municipal boundaries. We auction long-term leases — forty-nine years — on that municipal land with two ironclad conditions. One: forty percent of units must be priced at seventy percent of median market rate. Two: buyers must register as primary residents. No absentee ownership.
You're using the Israel Lands Authority's designated housing mechanism.
The municipality can trigger it for its own land holdings. The legal framework exists — it's been used for price-controlled housing in Modiin and some Tel Aviv developments. We're just scaling it. And the "no absentee owners" clause is critical. If you can't buy the apartment and leave it empty, the entire speculative premium collapses.
That's going to be popular with foreign investors. Less so with the ones who've already bought.
The existing stock is grandfathered. We're not fighting a retrospective battle that would tie us up in court for a decade. This applies to new development on municipal land going forward. If you want to park your money in Jerusalem real estate, buy an existing unit on the private market. New public land goes to people who will actually live here.
Which brings us to policy four: municipal tax reform. The arnona system.
This one's trickier legally, but it's the revenue engine. Jerusalem's residential arnona rates are among the lowest in Israel. We're starving the city of revenue while complaining about underfunded services. The problem isn't that we can't raise revenue — it's that we've chosen not to.
The politics of raising property taxes are universally terrible.
Which is why we don't raise them across the board. We introduce a progressive structure. Base rate for primary residences stays exactly where it is — maybe even drops slightly for smaller units. Then a two-point-five multiplier for second homes owned by non-residents. And a four-times multiplier for units owned by shell companies.
The shell company multiplier is chef's kiss.
It targets exactly the behavior we want to discourage. The multiplier rates require Knesset approval — arnona rates are ultimately set by national legislation. But we can immediately differentiate rates by neighborhood and property type under existing authority. Tel Aviv used this in twenty twenty-one for a one-point-five multiplier on second homes, projected to add two hundred million shekels annually. We start there, and simultaneously push the Knesset for the shell company provision.
The first year is neighborhood-based differentiation, and the Knesset bill is the second-year fight.
You build momentum with what's legally straightforward, demonstrate results, then go to the Knesset with data rather than just arguments.
Those first four policies tackle the supply side — housing and jobs. But a city isn't just buildings and paychecks. Let's talk about making people actually want to stay.
This is where transit and education come in. Policy five: transit-oriented development done right. Jerusalem's light rail expansion, the J-Net, is currently a construction nightmare. The city is a dusty maze, businesses along the routes are struggling, and everyone's asking whether it's worth it.
It's worth it if we use the disruption.
That's the key insight. Every station on the new lines becomes a development node. We rezone within a half-mile radius of each station for mixed-use, mid-rise development — eight to twelve stories — with mandatory ground-floor retail and a twenty percent affordable housing set-aside. Los Angeles passed a Transit-Oriented Communities ordinance in twenty twenty-four that allowed by-right density within a half-mile of transit stations. According to LA City Planning Department data, it resulted in twelve thousand affordable units approved in two years.
Twelve thousand units in two years. In Los Angeles, not exactly famous for nimble permitting.
The by-right part is what makes it work. Normally, multi-family development triggers a discretionary review adding eighteen to twenty-four months and enormous legal costs. By-right means: if you meet the zoning requirements, you're approved. No hearings, no appeals, no neighborhood opposition derailing the project. Developers get speed and certainty; the city gets affordable units and walkable neighborhoods.
Jerusalem's topography actually helps here. The light rail corridors follow the valleys — the natural building sites. You're not trying to build high-rises on the Mount of Olives.
The J-Net routes create natural density corridors through the German Colony, along Jaffa Road, through the northern neighborhoods. These areas can absorb eight to twelve stories without feeling oppressive. And the ground-floor retail requirement means you're building actual neighborhoods, not dormitories. You walk out your front door and there's a bakery, a pharmacy, a cafe.
The Jane Jacobs playbook. Eyes on the street, mixed uses, organic neighborhood life.
It's been validated by decades of urban research. The policy works. We just need to implement it.
Policy six — the brain drain. Sixty percent of graduates leave within three years. How do we stop the bleeding?
We create a Jerusalem Talent Retention Fund. Any graduate of a Jerusalem-based university or college who works in the city for five or more years after graduation gets student loan forgiveness of up to fifty thousand shekels. The fund is financed by a zero-point-five percent payroll tax on companies with over fifty employees in the city.
The employers who benefit from the talent pool help pay to retain it.
The Encouragement of Capital Investments Law already allows municipalities to offer grants for employment retention. The payroll tax component would require a special Knesset bill, but the grant program itself is within our authority. Fifty thousand shekels over five years is ten thousand a year. That's not a fortune. But for a twenty-five-year-old with student debt deciding between a Jerusalem apartment and a Tel Aviv apartment, it might tip the scales.
Especially combined with the affordable housing we're building under policies three and five. You can suddenly say to a young couple: here's a price-controlled apartment near a light rail station, your student loans are partially covered, and there are tech jobs a fifteen-minute commute away. That's a value proposition Tel Aviv can't easily match.
Tel Aviv's value proposition right now is basically "we're not Jerusalem." And for a lot of secular young Israelis, that's enough. We need to flip the script to "we're Jerusalem, and here's specifically what that means for your life and your bank account.
The informal economy.
This is the one I'm most excited about, partly because nobody talks about it. An estimated thirty percent of Jerusalem's workforce is in the informal sector. Small workshops, home-based businesses, street vendors, domestic workers, freelance tradespeople. They can't access credit, they can't scale, they can't formalize without triggering a regulatory nightmare.
The city treats them as a nuisance rather than an asset.
Which is insane. Thirty percent of your workforce is a massive economic engine, and we're spending municipal resources trying to suppress it. Our policy: create a micro-enterprise zone in the city's southern industrial areas. Home-based businesses can register with a simple online form, pay a flat five hundred shekel monthly fee, and operate without the usual zoning and licensing hurdles.
Five hundred shekels a month is basically a licensing subscription.
That's the idea. It's low enough to be cheaper than staying illegal and risking fines, but high enough to generate real revenue at scale. If we get ten thousand businesses registered, that's sixty million shekels a year in new municipal revenue. And those businesses can now open bank accounts, access small business loans, hire employees formally, bid on government contracts. We're not just legalizing them — we're giving them a ladder into the formal economy.
Modeled on the Business Improvement District framework?
Adapted from it, yes. It's basically a regulatory sandbox for micro-enterprises. The legal basis is the municipality's general licensing authority under the Business Licensing Law. We're using existing discretion to stop enforcing regulations that don't make sense for businesses below a certain size.
We've got seven policies on the table. Freeze luxury towers unless they include affordable units. Redirect the development authority to job creation. Land-value capture on municipal land with a primary residence requirement. Progressive arnona with multipliers for absentee owners. Transit-oriented development with by-right zoning. Talent retention through student loan forgiveness. And micro-enterprise zones to formalize the informal economy. Some are legally straightforward, some require a fight. Which of these actually moves the needle?
The single most impactful combination is the luxury tower freeze plus land-value capture on municipal land. Policies one and three. Together, they directly address the passive investment problem without requiring Knesset approval or a cultural shift. You're using existing legal tools — Section sixty-two A and the designated housing mechanism — to change the incentive structure for developers. Instead of chasing the highest-margin luxury buyers, they have to build for the actual Jerusalem market.
"the actual Jerusalem market" includes a lot of people who currently can't participate. The missing middle — teachers, nurses, junior tech workers — who earn too much for public housing but too little to buy market-rate.
That's a misconception worth addressing. When people hear "affordable housing," they often think subsidized housing for the poor. But the most effective interventions target that missing middle. A two-bedroom apartment at seventy percent of median market rate in Jerusalem is still not cheap — maybe one point two million shekels instead of one point seven. But it's within reach for a dual-income household with a nurse and a software engineer. That's the demographic we're losing to Modiin and Beit Shemesh and Tel Aviv.
The other misconception: that the municipality has no tools to affect housing prices. We just named the specific legal clauses. Section sixty-two A. The designated housing mechanism. The arnona differentiation authority. These exist in Israeli law right now. They're just not being used.
The third misconception: that Jerusalem's poverty is caused by the Haredi population's low workforce participation. It's true that Haredi men have lower employment rates, but the city's economic structure — dominated by tourism, government, and non-profit sectors — creates few high-wage jobs regardless of demographic. Bnei Brak's poverty rate is actually higher than Jerusalem's — fifty-two percent versus forty-six percent — but its residents report higher satisfaction with municipal services. The variable isn't religiosity. It's governance.
Governance and economic structure. Bnei Brak has a more functional relationship between its municipal leadership and its population. Services are more responsive. Planning is more coherent. It's not a wealthy city, but it works for the people who live there. Jerusalem feels optimized for people who don't.
That's the perfect summary. And it connects to the political economy question we haven't addressed yet. Which of these policies would actually survive a court challenge or a Knesset override?
Let's go through them. The luxury tower freeze — developers will sue under property rights. You mentioned the Kiryat HaYovel precedent. How strong is that?
Strong but not bulletproof. The Supreme Court has been deferential to municipal planning authority when there's a clear public interest, but the current court is more conservative on property rights than fifteen years ago. A developer could argue the sixty percent affordability requirement eliminates the project's economic value. We'd need an economic analysis showing the remaining forty percent of luxury units still generate a reasonable return.
It's defensible, but not a slam dunk.
The progressive arnona would face the biggest fight. The Knesset has to approve the multiplier rates, and the real estate lobby is powerful across party lines. The shell company provision in particular threatens a business model that many politically connected people benefit from.
The neighborhood-based differentiation we can do immediately.
That's within existing municipal authority. Tel Aviv proved it. We could have a vote in the city council within sixty days of taking office.
The land-value capture and transit-oriented development are on the most solid legal ground. The Supreme Court has repeatedly upheld inclusionary zoning. The designated housing mechanism is well-established. The by-right zoning approach has been litigated and survived.
Those are the most legally robust policies in the package. And politically, they're the easiest sells because they create visible, tangible benefits. New housing near transit stations. Price-controlled units people can actually afford. Jobs from construction and new businesses. Things you can point to at a ribbon-cutting ceremony.
The talent retention fund and micro-enterprise zones are interesting cases. Neither requires major legal innovation, but both face political headwinds. The payroll tax would face opposition from large employers. The micro-enterprise zones would face opposition from existing formal businesses who see unfair competition.
The micro-enterprise opposition is manageable if we frame it correctly. The pitch: we're bringing thirty percent of the workforce into the tax base. That means lower arnona rates for everyone else over time. Formal businesses benefit from a broader tax base and a more prosperous consumer market. The alternative is continuing to suppress these businesses, which hasn't worked and won't work.
Which brings us to the uncomfortable question every reform-minded mayor faces. Would a prosperity-focused mayor actually get re-elected?
The current coalition dynamics reward sectarian distribution of resources. The political system is built on delivering specific benefits to specific constituencies — building permits here, zoning variances there, funding for this institution or that neighborhood. Our policies create winners and losers. The winners are young families, tech workers, informal entrepreneurs, anyone who wants to live in Jerusalem but can't afford to. The losers are developers, absentee landlords, and the existing political brokers who benefit from the current system.
The brokers have a lot of power.
They deliver votes in the Haredi neighborhoods, the Arab neighborhoods, the secular neighborhoods. They're the intermediaries between the municipality and the population. Our approach bypasses them entirely. We're saying: we're not negotiating with community gatekeepers about who gets what. We're setting transparent rules that apply equally, and you can take it or leave it.
That's either courageous or naive.
It's both. But the alternative is continuing the status quo, and the status quo is producing the worst quality-of-life satisfaction in the country and a poverty rate that hasn't budged in a decade. At some point, the political risk of doing nothing exceeds the political risk of doing something.
Let's talk about the knock-on effect. If we implement even half of these policies, what changes in five years?
The most immediate change is in the housing market. The luxury tower freeze combined with land-value capture would shift developer attention from high-end units to middle-market housing. We'd see a wave of construction in the million to one-point-five million shekel range, currently a dead zone in Jerusalem. The transit-oriented development would create walkable, dense neighborhoods around light rail stations — the kind of urban fabric that attracts young families and creative workers.
The talent retention fund would start showing results around year three, when the first cohort of graduates hits their two-year mark and starts thinking about whether to stay or leave.
The micro-enterprise zones would formalize within the first year if we make registration genuinely frictionless. Five hundred shekels a month, online form, done. You'd see thousands of businesses registering in the first quarter alone, because the cost of staying illegal — fines, inability to access credit, constant uncertainty — is higher than five hundred shekels a month.
The Jerusalem Works job creation program is the longest lead time. Beersheba took a decade to reach eight thousand jobs. We're targeting fifteen thousand in five years, which is ambitious. But Jerusalem has advantages Beersheba didn't — five universities, an existing urban fabric, cultural amenities, proximity to the center of the country.
Jerusalem is Jerusalem. The name carries weight internationally. If we can credibly pitch the city as a tech hub with affordable housing and a deep talent pool, we can attract the R and D centers that currently cluster in Herzliya and Tel Aviv. The pitch to a company like NVIDIA or Apple: you can pay your engineers thirty percent less because their housing costs are forty percent lower, and they get to live in one of the world's great cities.
The religious-secular frame is a distraction from all of this. The real obstacles are three things. One: a municipal revenue model that incentivizes luxury construction over affordable housing. Two: a planning system captured by large developers. Three: a brain drain that Jerusalem has accepted as inevitable. None of those are about religion. They're about policy choices and incentive structures.
A prosperity-focused mayor doesn't need to fight culture wars. You don't need an opinion about who's more or less religious, or what kind of Judaism should dominate the public square. You just need to use the legal tools that already exist — land-value capture, transit-oriented zoning, progressive property taxes — tested in other cities and upheld by courts. You focus on the material conditions of people's lives and let the cultural questions sort themselves out.
The Bnei Brak comparison is instructive. Bnei Brak didn't become more functional by becoming less religious. It became more functional because its municipal government focused on service delivery rather than sectarian politics. The same is possible in Jerusalem. The obstacle isn't the presence of religious communities. It's the absence of competent, prosperity-focused governance.
"prosperity-focused" doesn't mean "secular-focused." Some of the biggest beneficiaries would be Haredi families. Affordable housing near transit? That's exactly what large Haredi families in neighborhoods like Ramat Shlomo and Ramot need. Micro-enterprise zones? The Haredi community has a thriving informal economy of small businesses that would benefit enormously from formalization and access to credit. Student loan forgiveness? Haredi students at Jerusalem College of Technology and other institutions would qualify.
The policies are demographic-blind by design. You don't need to be secular or religious, Jewish or Arab, to benefit from a price-controlled apartment or a job at a new R and D center. You just need to live in Jerusalem.
That's the political genius of it, if we can pull it off. The current system divides Jerusalem into demographic silos and allocates resources accordingly. Our approach says: here are the rules, they apply to everyone equally, and your success depends on your willingness to participate in the formal economy, not on which community gatekeeper you know.
The open question is whether that message can win an election in a city where sectarian politics has been the dominant mode for decades.
It's an open question. But I'd point to the CBS satisfaction survey. Dead last among Israeli cities over a hundred thousand residents. That's not a religious problem or a secular problem. That's a governance problem. At some point, voters across the spectrum start asking whether the current approach is working. When forty-six percent of families are below the poverty line, that's not an abstract policy debate. That's people's lived experience.
If Jerusalem can't break the cycle, the gap with Tel Aviv will continue to widen. We're already seeing a bifurcation where Jerusalem becomes poorer, more dependent on government transfers, and more dominated by populations that don't participate in the high-wage economy, while Tel Aviv pulls further ahead. That's not sustainable for the country as a whole, let alone for the city.
If even half of these policies were implemented — say, the luxury tower freeze, the land-value capture, and the transit-oriented development — Jerusalem could become a test case for how to decouple economic development from cultural identity in deeply divided cities. You don't need to resolve the religious-secular conflict to build affordable housing and create jobs. You just need a municipal government that's actually trying.
The tools are there. The legal mechanisms are there. The demand is there — people want to live in Jerusalem, they just can't afford to. The question is whether the political will exists to use the tools.
That's the thought experiment Daniel sent us. If the political will existed — if Herman and Corn were in office with a single mandate and no baggage — here are seven specific, actionable policies. They're not theoretical. They're drawn from existing Israeli law and from successful programs in other cities. They're sequenced from what we can do on day one to what requires a Knesset fight. And they're designed to create a virtuous cycle: affordable housing attracts young workers, young workers attract employers, employers create jobs, jobs create a tax base, and the tax base funds better services.
The virtuous cycle is the opposite of what Jerusalem has now, which is a vicious cycle. Luxury housing pushes up land prices, which makes affordable housing impossible, which drives out young workers, which discourages employers, which shrinks the tax base, which leads to worse services, which makes the city less attractive, which further concentrates poverty.
Breaking that cycle requires exactly the kind of intervention we've outlined. Not tinkering at the margins. Not another task force or commission. A fundamental reorientation of what the municipality is trying to achieve.
We should acknowledge the constraints honestly. A Jerusalem mayor doesn't control the Knesset. They don't control national tax policy. They don't control the security situation, which affects everything from tourism to investor confidence. And they inherit a bureaucracy with decades of institutional inertia.
And yet — the mayor controls the Planning and Building Committee, which decides what gets built and under what conditions. The mayor controls the Jerusalem Development Authority and its marketing budget. The mayor controls municipal land and the terms under which it's leased. The mayor sets arnona rates within the bands permitted by national law. The mayor can create economic development programs and incentive structures. These are real levers. They're not unlimited, but they're substantial.
The current mayor has chosen not to pull most of them. That's a choice, not an inevitability.
That's what makes this thought experiment valuable. It shows that the constraints are partly self-imposed. The religious-secular frame has been a convenient excuse for inaction. "We can't solve Jerusalem's problems because the religious parties won't let us." But Bnei Brak shows that religious demographics aren't destiny. And the specific legal mechanisms we've outlined show that a mayor who wanted to pursue prosperity could do so without waiting for the Knesset to act or the religious-secular conflict to resolve itself.
The frame itself is the trap. As long as we're debating who's to blame — the Haredim, the seculars, the Arabs, the settlers, the left, the right — we're not debating what to do. And the developers keep building luxury towers while the city gets poorer.
To answer the prompt directly: if Herman and Corn were elected with a prosperity mandate, here's the seven-policy agenda. Freeze luxury towers without affordability requirements. Redirect the development authority to job creation. Capture land value for affordable housing with primary residence requirements. Introduce progressive arnona for absentee owners. Implement transit-oriented development with by-right zoning. Create a talent retention fund with student loan forgiveness. And formalize the informal economy through micro-enterprise zones. Some are day-one executive actions. Some require legislation. All are specific, actionable, and legally grounded.
None of them require you to have an opinion about religion.
Which is, I think, the deepest point. Prosperity is a separate axis from religiosity. You can be religious and prosperous, secular and prosperous, Arab and prosperous, Haredi and prosperous. The question is whether the municipal government is structured to enable prosperity or to prevent it. Jerusalem's current structure prevents it. That's a policy choice, not a cultural destiny.
The question we'll leave listeners with: would a mayor who implemented these policies get re-elected? The current system has powerful beneficiaries. Developers who profit from luxury towers. Political brokers who profit from sectarian resource allocation. Absentee landlords who profit from the passive investment model. Those groups have money and influence. The potential beneficiaries of reform — young families, entrepreneurs, graduates deciding whether to stay or leave — are less organized and less politically powerful. Whether they could form a winning coalition is the open question.
It's not just a Jerusalem question. It's a question for every city trapped in a similar dynamic — divided by identity, governed by patronage, bleeding talent and hope. If Jerusalem can figure out how to govern for prosperity rather than for sectarian distribution, it becomes a model for places from Beirut to Belfast. If it can't, it becomes a cautionary tale.
A city of ghosts and gold.
That's the phrase, isn't it? Ghost towers and gold-plated poverty. The alternative is right there. The tools are right there. The question is whether anyone will pick them up.
And now: Hilbert's daily fun fact.
Hilbert: During the Tang dynasty, the Imperial Chancellery's document-forwarding protocol required that memorials to the throne travel no more than five hundred li per day — about two hundred fifty kilometers — a speed that, if applied to a message traveling from the administrative seat of French Guiana in the eighteen eighties, would have taken roughly twenty-seven days to reach Paris, compared to the twelve days a steamship actually required.
...right.
This has been My Weird Prompts. Thanks to our producer Hilbert Flumingtop for the fact, and to everyone listening for spending part of your day with us. If you want to dig deeper into the legal mechanisms we discussed — the Planning and Building Law, the designated housing framework, the arnona differentiation authority — we'll put links in the show notes at myweirdprompts.Rate and review if you found this useful. We'll be back soon.
Talk to you then.
