As cities grow and take on lives of their own, conflicts develop. Space gets tighter and we bump up against each other more often.
It happens in lots of ways. Car drivers resent cyclists and cyclists fear motorists. Shoppers want a convenient supermarket - but not so convenient it overwhelms their residential area with traffic. We like a night out - but not the noise if the music venue is too close to home.
And so it is with Canberra. It's a sign of a vibrant city which is morphing as prosperity takes the reality further from the planners' idealised vision.
Take Garema Place. It's the magnet for night owls. The names of the clubs give the flavour: "The Playground Bar", "Honkytonks" and "Hippo Co" all thrive on music, often live music from rock to jazz to blues. None of these musical genres is known for playing pianissimo.
But Garema Place is now the chosen site for a luxury hotel. Developers Geocon have submitted an application for a swish building with 215 rooms. The idea is that it will bring money to the city as more and more people visit.
Some of the paying guests of the hotel may well want to cross the road to take in the music in the clubs. But they will also want a good night's sleep.
The owners of the hotel will not want a string of complaints on travel websites moaning about the volume from the venues over the way. Such is social media that just one complaint of a sleepless night will turn away business even if another 99 guests have crossed the road and bounced around to the beat.
So what's to be done as Canberra grows into a mongrel city of mixed neighbourhoods rather than the neat one laid down a century ago where we live in one area, get entertained in another and work in a third?
In the classic movie "Spinal Tap", a heavy metal musician screams at the sound technician, "Take it up to 11". The needs of sleepy business travellers are different.
One of the areas which needs to be looked at is noise regulation.
The head of MusicACT, David Caffery, says that under the current system the night limit is 50 decibels which adds up to no louder than a conversation. Even the quietest club exceeds that. There is not a single rock, jazz or blues musician on this planet who could live with the shame of never letting rip beyond the whisper of a conversation.
In the classic movie "Spinal Tap", a heavy metal musician screams at the sound technician, "Take it up to 11".
The needs of sleepy business travellers are different. Hotel guests and late night revellers hear the world differently - even if they are one and the same person, going from the club back to the hotel room.
Something has to give.
As the law now stand, complaints from residents of the hotel (who are, by definition, from out of town) could result in the closure of an important part of the entertainment scene in Canberra.
Transient hotel guests spend money so their needs have to be met - but so do those of the businesses across the road (and which some hotel guests might want to visit and spend money in).
The regulations seem to come from a quieter era. Mr Caffery wants them changed so the measuring of noise from a neighbouring establishment should be from inside the hotel room rather than with the window open.
That seems sensible. Perhaps the hotel should also have double glazing to muffle noise. And, of course, good clubs are considerate clubs which keep the dial below 11.