San Francisco loves a good ribbon-cutting moment. And now, the Marina Safeway — that beloved, slightly chaotic grocery store where Lululemon-clad locals have pushed carts past each other for decades — is getting a development glow-up.

On paper, it sounds fine. New housing units, maybe some retail, the kind of mixed-use buzzwords that make planning commissioners nod approvingly. But let's pump the brakes for a second.

This city has a remarkable talent for pouring energy into projects that feel like progress while the actual crises — a housing permitting process that moves slower than a Muni bus on game day, a street safety situation that remains genuinely alarming, a small business environment that's still recovering — get a collective shrug.

The Marina Safeway site is prime real estate, no question. And yes, if done right, adding housing there is a good thing — we'll say that plainly. More units, more density, less exclusivity. Fine. Great, even.

But here's the uncomfortable question nobody in City Hall seems eager to answer: how long will this take, how much will it cost taxpayers in subsidies and process, and who actually benefits when all is said and done?

San Francisco has a habit of celebrating the announcement of a project as if it's the same as completing one. We've seen too many glossy renderings age into disappointment. Too many community meetings that stretch across years while the need for housing grows more urgent by the month.

If city leaders want credit for solving the housing crisis, they should streamline permitting, cut the bureaucratic red tape that makes building here absurdly expensive, and stop treating every development like a multi-year negotiation seminar.

The Marina deserves thoughtful development. So does every other neighborhood in this city. But a shiny new project at a beloved grocery store shouldn't be mistaken for bold governance — not while the real structural problems collect dust on someone's desk at 1 Dr. Carlton B. Goodlett Place.

We'll believe it when we see the keys in residents' hands.