When the statue, pulled off the street by a crane, finally hit the ground, many passersby breathed a sigh of relief. The daily visual shock finally dissipated, and citizens no longer had to grapple with that awkward feeling.

Similar incidents have been happening in multiple cities in succession. The official reason is straightforward—complaints far exceeded expectations, and public outcry overwhelmed all other considerations.

This angered the art community. Discussions in the art academy's chat groups exploded, with voices shouting "populism crushing art" nonstop. But there is an overlooked twist here: public art is not just that solitary piece admired in a gallery. It stands every day outside your building, at your commute intersection, becoming a "neighbor" to every passerby.

Some local governments are taking serious measures. Certain cities now require new statues to undergo hearings first, inviting elderly residents to participate, providing a full 30-day public notice period. If community opposition is strong, the project is scrapped and started over. Cultural and tourism departments are also drafting new regulations, explicitly stating: art must first withstand the scrutiny of ordinary people before discussing so-called depth.

To put it plainly, what is the essence of a city? It’s not an experimental ground for artists, but a place where millions live daily and seek their livelihood. Statues can be bold, avant-garde even, but don’t let people coming home from work feel suffocated. Aesthetics have their thresholds, but public space has no retreat—it must be built on empathy.