Now welcoming travelers along Highway 30 as they enter the city of Ames is a brief series of pillars of light. Like the pillar of fire sent by God that led the Israelites through the wilderness or like a fiber-optic cable carrying an important message, the million-dollar iridescent lights reassure travelers that Ames is indeed there and is a welcoming place, or so the city anticipated.

For many years, business owners in the southeast corner of Ames, through their organization called the South Ames Business Neighborhood, have worked to improve the aesthetic of South 16th Street and Dayton Avenue. Without question, their efforts have been successful. With the exception of the ruined truck stop on the south side of Highway 30, the area looks respectable.

But the culmination of the beautification project is the columns of light, one member of the South Ames Business Neighborhood suggested to the Daily in a recent article.

We hope that in the future, the city will spend the taxpayers’ money more wisely. Although the best intentions inspired this final phase of the project, the result is cheesy or, at best, cute. As reported in the Daily, members of the South Ames Business Neighborhood were concerned that the west-on-30 route into the city left its users with something wanting. One asked, “Why would you even stop? There’s nothing to make it look like there is something there.” A memorandum from May 22, 2012, describes the “lighted sculptural columns” as “a key component of the Southeast Entryway Project.” The purpose of the columns, the memo states, is to “create a stronger sense of arrival into Ames.”

What does Ames need, an arch over the highways that lead to it? The three rules of real estate — location, location, location — seem to have cheated Ames; the roads into town do not take visitors to the crest of some hill that provides a stunning vista that shows Ames and the fields beyond.

There is nothing wrong with that. Both Interstate 35 and Highway 30 run along the periphery of Ames. Indeed, unless you’re actually on the City Council, work or live there, or work with the Planning and Zoning Commission, chances are those two roads mark the boundaries of town. Unlike metropolitan areas such as Des Moines, only one highway actually runs through the city, and it is Highway 69, which becomes Grand and Duff Avenues in town.

Although routes into the city probably should be well maintained and improved or upgraded as necessary, budgeting first $1,058,236 and later $974,420 for a dozen light columns — even though the project was paid for using grants from the Iowa Department of Transportation and not just money from the sales and property tax payers of Ames — seems unnecessary. How can a million-dollar set of light columns be more worthwhile than, for example, basic road repair elsewhere around Ames or investment in the public school system or lower property taxes?

We realize that many agencies were involved in the decision to beautify Highway 30 with light columns and that large portions of the funds available had stringent usage requirements, but overall, we have to ask a question larger in scope than the city of Ames. Why do we tie up our money in projects designed to good feelings rather than a better world? When it’s a choice between subjective appearances that, depending on the witness, may or may not be worthwhile on the one hand and tangible improvements that actually get used and have objective value on the other, perhaps we should try the latter.