At their best, mega-events are extraordinary disruptors. They galvanise people, institutions, and resources. They shift timelines, accelerate decision-making, and attract investment that might otherwise take decades to unlock. I refer to this as the “catalytic energy” of events—an energy that can spark civic imagination and collaboration.

But without a long-term vision, that energy dissipates. Events without clear strategic purpose risk becoming one-off spectacles—memorable, yes, but shallow in terms of lasting impact. The London 2012 Games demonstrated both the potential and the pitfalls of this. Its physical regeneration of East London—particularly Stratford and the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park—was widely praised. Why? Because the Mayor at the time, Ken Livingstone, had a clear urban development goal: use the Games as leverage to transform one of London’s most deprived areas.

In contrast, the Games’ second headline ambition—to “inspire a generation” of young people to take up sport—lacked clear ownership, a defined strategy, and consistent investment. It fell flat. The lesson is clear: catalytic energy must be captured through vision and structure, not left to chance.

A central argument from I make is that too many cities retrofit their urban goals around the event, rather than using the event to advance pre-existing priorities. This “event-first” logic often leads to awkward compromises—projects rushed for the sake of deadlines, or infrastructure built without long-term use in mind. In worst-case scenarios, it results in white elephants or broken promises to communities.

Instead, cities should begin with a place-first strategy. What are the biggest social, economic, or environmental challenges we face over the next 30 years? How can a mega-event serve as a tool—not a distraction—to accelerate our progress?

Again, London’s regeneration model offers a useful template. The event was chosen and designed to fulfil a long-standing urban goal—not the other way around. But this logic remains rare. Cities still too often pursue the event for the event’s sake, then scramble to justify its value after the fact.

Franchise holders are starting to respond. The IOC, for example, now discourages unnecessary venue construction, promotes flexibility in bidding, and requires stronger sustainability planning. But it’s ultimately up to cities to lead with vision—and demand that events conform to that vision.

One of the more paradoxical features of mega-events is that the very organisations designed to deliver them—the Organising Committees—are typically disbanded within weeks of the closing ceremony. This leaves a gap just when the legacy phase should begin.

I highlight the need for durable governance structures that survive beyond the event itself. In London, the Olympic Delivery Authority and London Legacy Development Corporation were established with clear mandates, multi-year funding, and political consensus. They provided continuity, shielded the project from short-term political shifts, and ensured the long-term vision was resourced and protected.

The contrast with Rio is instructive. Despite moments of promise, Rio’s Olympic legacy faltered due to institutional fragmentation, lack of sustained investment, and minimal integration with broader city planning. Rio didn`t lack vision or a long term plan, but financial and political hiatus overtook events and put the plan on hold.

Legacy also requires dedicated, ring-fenced funding—not just contingency money or end-of-project leftovers. Too often, public funds are used to plug budget gaps or build temporary infrastructure. Instead, funds should be allocated specifically for long-term social and urban outcomes, with independent oversight and community input.

The final ingredient? Time. Legacy is a 30-year project, not a three-year plan. Cities must think intergenerationally—planning for impact that endures long after the confetti has settled.