San Francisco has a proud tradition of solving problems it doesn't have. The latest entry: reopening the debate over whether Cesar Chavez Street needs a new name.

Let's set aside for a moment the question of who would want to rename a street honoring one of the most consequential labor organizers in American history — a man who fought for farmworkers, immigrants, and the working poor with zero government salary and a whole lot of conviction. The kind of guy you'd think San Francisco would be into.

But fine. Let's say someone makes a compelling case. Then what?

Cesar Chavez Street runs nearly the full width of the city — from Dolores Park in the Mission all the way out to the water. That's not a quiet little cul-de-sac. It's a major arterial road. Replacing every street sign, every embedded curb engraving, every city map, every permit, every mailing address, every business registration, every GPS database entry? That's not an afternoon project. That's millions of dollars and years of bureaucratic slog.

We've seen this movie before. San Francisco spent enormous political energy renaming schools during the pandemic — schools that remained closed to actual students — and the whole effort eventually collapsed under public embarrassment and legal challenge. The city learned nothing.

Talk to people who actually live and work along Cesar Chavez and you'll find what you'd expect: locals who've built their lives around that address, small business owners who'd face real costs updating signage and paperwork, and longtime residents of the Mission who have a particular attachment to the name in a neighborhood with deep Latino roots.

Renaming streets isn't inherently wrong. Sometimes it makes sense. But in a city where Muni runs late, housing costs are crushing people, and the budget is a slow-motion disaster, the bar for spending political capital on street signs should be extremely high.

Cesar Chavez earned his name on that street. The burden of proof to remove it — logistically, financially, and historically — is massive. Until someone clears it, this debate should stay exactly where it belongs: nowhere near City Hall.