Where this started
Two suburbs, forty minutes apart.
I grew up on the Gold Coast — Southport and Ashmore first, then Mudgeeraba from about eleven. Every suburb had a reputation. Some were meant to be rough, some were meant to be the good end of town. Nobody ever explained why — it was just what people said.
Then one day in the early nineties I got driven up to Runaway Bay, and I remember thinking every single house there was a mansion. Same city, forty minutes from where I lived. I was a kid — I couldn't work out what made one different from the other, and I didn't have the words for it. But the question never left me.
What I know now is that the difference between two suburbs forty minutes apart is almost never random. It's schools. It's what the people there do for work. It's how the land was zoned, who's moving in and who's leaving. And the reputations are often twenty years out of date — some of the areas I was warned about as a kid have done better since than the ones people pointed at.
So when someone tells me a suburb is good, or that a suburb is rough, I don't take their word for it. I go and look at the numbers. That habit — checking the story against what a place is actually doing — is the whole job. I've been practising it since before I knew it was one.