Olympic legacy — the enduring benefits accrued by a host city — does not arrive fully formed. Yet despite fewer than 50 cities ever having the privilege to host the Olympic or Paralympic Games, the announcement of a host city award often triggers reluctance, scepticism, or outright resistance. 

Headlines warn of overspending, displacement, and civic disruption. As Los Angeles prepares to host the Games for a third time in 2028, familiar debates have resurfaced: What does it mean to shine a global spotlight on the city once again, and why does the prospect invite such discomfort?

Is it because we have lost sight of what the Games can catalyze? Or because we forget that Olympic legacies emerge over time, shaped by long-term planning, community advocacy, and the continued commitment of residents long after the closing ceremonies? 

Media narratives frequently focus on cost overruns, pressure on public services, and the threat of unused “white elephant” venues. These concerns are not unfounded, but they often overshadow a deeper dynamic: resistance to change. Hosting the Games forces cities to confront their identity, their future, and the scale of collective ambition required. That intensity is often misread as risk rather than opportunity. 

Accelerating long-term change 

Few planning and delivery efforts in the modern world require the same scale of imagination as the Olympic and Paralympic Games. They are not merely events, but tests of cities and countries’ infrastructure, governance, and urban vision. Still, we tend to frame the opportunities as intrusions into urban life rather than springboards that can help cities push past longstanding bureaucratic and political barriers. 

There is an urban paradox at play. We want better transit, more inclusive public spaces, and greener infrastructure, yet when these improvements are tied to the Olympics, we hesitate. Decades of dire headlines about cost overruns and delayed construction have conditioned us to anticipate disappointment more than possibility. It is easier to recall failures than to recognize the quieter, ongoing stories of growth that often continue well after the global spotlight has faded. 

Consider Tokyo. Years after the 2020 Games, much public discussion still revisits costs or the absence of spectators during the pandemic. Yet, the Games brought the city significantly improved transit connections, accessibility upgrades, and human-centric public design that have already become integral to daily routines. Most who benefit from these enhancements rarely remember that the Games accelerated them. 

Barcelona offers another example. Before 1992, its waterfront was largely industrial and inaccessible. Today, it has one of the world’s most iconic urban beaches, a transformation that began before the Olympics but was propelled forward because of them, sustained by those who continued the work long after the world moved on. 

Of course, not every city has experienced such positive outcomes. Some failed to prioritize legacy or to be guided by clear vision, lacked governance continuity, or pursued investments without a long-term civic strategy. But acknowledging these shortcomings only reinforces a central truth: sustainable legacy is a function of intention, of clear vision that is well-communicated and accepted; it’s not inevitability. 

The long span of legacy

This is the real secret of Olympic legacy: it evolves over many years. It is not a static but a shared narrative of identity, ambition, and possibility; built slowly, shaped collectively, and reinvigorated over time. Cities like London have demonstrated this across domains from mobility to public space to cultural programming. In London’s case, more than £6.5–7.2bn of Games‑accelerated transport investment translated into lasting upgrades and deliberate shifts toward walking, cycling, and public transport — reinforcing sustainability and people‑centred movement as enduring features of the city’s mobility system rather than a one‑off Games response.

Which brings us back to Los Angeles. LA’s Olympic story has always been unconventional. In 1932, during the Depression, the city turned a profit and demonstrated that a modern Games was possible. In 1984, LA innovated a sponsorship model that protected public budgets and generated a surplus that funded $225 million in youth sports programs across Southern California.

As the city prepares for 2028, the challenge is different. It is not simply to avoid the pitfalls of past hosts but to leverage the moment to accelerate the region’s ongoing transformation. The LAX/Metro Transit Center Station — opened in June 2025 — is one such example, built to reduce car travel around the airport in anticipation of the FIFA World Cup 26™, Super Bowl LXI, and the 2028 Games. It links the airport to South Los Angeles via the K Line and signals the region’s broader ambitions for expanded equitable mobility.

Transformative legacies are city-driven

A truly successful host city looks beyond the span of competition to ask: How can the Games strengthen our long-term urban trajectory? It sees how legacy is agency — having the courage to imagine places capable of reinvention and transformation and then using the momentum of the Games to manifest change. Mobility, accessibility, and public realm improvements belong to residents and continue to evolve.

Sustainable legacy does not sit with the International Olympic Committee or a local Organizing Committee alone. It is strengthened when residents are empowered to take ownership, participate meaningfully, and shape a shared vision for what the city becomes long after the event.

The question is shifting from “Can we afford this?” to “Can we afford to let fear limit who we might become?” Hosting the Games disrupt the familiar long enough to reveal what else is possible. What follows — renewal or regret — depends entirely on the choices a city and its people make together.