The Tour Montparnasse — 210 metres of tinted glass and asbestos, opened in 1973, widely considered the ugliest building in inner-city Paris — is now also its most expensive governance failure. After more than a decade of planning, the tower's private co-owners voted this week by a three-quarters majority to kill the first phase of a long-awaited renovation, effectively stranding the emptied skyscraper in limbo. The numbers explain the revolt. The original overhaul — new glass facade, vegetation, a hotel across three floors, a greenhouse at the top, modernised office and leisure spaces — was costed at a figure that then more than doubled to €800m. That price tag landed on a fragmented ownership structure of French investment funds and insurers, none of whom signed up for a bill of that magnitude. The asbestos removal alone is a significant operation before any aesthetic work begins. The timing is brutal. The building permit granted for the renovation expires at the end of November, and this week's vote was the last opportunity to launch before that deadline. The tower has already been emptied and closed in preparation for work that will now not begin. This summer, fire officers responded after pieces of glass fell from the facade onto the street below. The building is not just idle — it is actively degrading. Philippe Goujon, the rightwing mayor of Paris's 15th arrondissement, called for all parties to "come to their senses," refusing to accept that a decade of development work could be discarded. Four co-owners who still want renovation, including telecoms tycoon Xavier Niel, issued a joint statement urging all co-owners, financial partners, and public authorities to meet and "examine all the solutions." Some co-owners hope a scaled-down project could be agreed upon. The tower's problems exist within a larger urban transformation. Architect Renzo Piano has been separately tasked with overhauling the shopping centre beneath the tower and nearby buildings, creating new pedestrian spaces and replacing grey concrete with planted greenery. Local officials are now racing to insulate that project from any contagion if the tower renovation stalls indefinitely. The Socialist mayor's office wants "an alternative solution to be proposed" to prevent the site from remaining at a standstill. Opposition councillors on the left have floated a more radical idea: demolish the "obsolete" tower entirely and replace it with a park that would have a cooling effect during summer heatwaves. That proposal, while politically attractive in an era of urban heat, would require buying out or compensating every co-owner — an even more complex negotiation than the one that just failed. What Paris has now is the worst of all outcomes: a 59-storey building emptied of tenants, closed for renovation that isn't happening, with a facade shedding glass and a permit about to expire. The co-ownership structure that was supposed to distribute risk has instead distributed veto power. Nobody is extracting value from this tower — nobody can. The building is generating negative value for every party: owners paying carrying costs on a dead asset, the city losing tax revenue and bearing safety liability, and residents living beneath a crumbling monolith with no timeline for resolution.