In Columbus, apparently, it's all or nothing. It used to be almost impossible to have sidewalk cafes, leaving wide sidewalks for pedestrians. Now the sidewalk cafes are increasingly permanent (even in snow), leaving little room for pedestrians. Until 2003, restaurants had to pay a $27 fee per chair over the 180-day "outdoor dining season" -- unless they had a liquor license, in which case the fee was $63 per chair (35 cents per chair per day). Starting in 2003, there was a $500 "cafe-table lease" (leasing the sidewalk space) per business the first year, renewable for $50 each year thereafter.
But the leased space soon became permanent, blocked off with fences bolted to the sidewalk. Even in snow and ice. Even when the storefronts became vacant. Here is a tour of sidewalks in the block immediately north of the Ohio Statehouse.

Cafe Brioso, on Gay at High. Solid, permanent fence; tables get lots of use.

Across Gay Street. Two storefronts that have been vacant for a year or two.

Next door to those two. This former cafe has been a hair salon for a year or two.

A few doors to the east. Fancy Due Amici next to funky Tip Top. Both nice places with active sidewalk cafes -- that make for a narrow public way year round, especially hazardous in winter.

I don't like Quizno's, but at least this sidewalk cafe makes sense.

Broad Street at High. I don't get it. An accident waiting to happen. The function of sidewalk is to provide a level surface for walking. So, why try to trip people with low barriers?

It's attractive, but totally impractical. Not just because of the danger to pedestrians, but because these decorative surfaces are expensive to buy and install, they don't hold up well and they are difficult and expensive to repair, and must be repaired more frequently.

Pretty. Silly.

High Street. Right around the corner from the previous abomination. A gated sidewalk community?

Same, from the other end. For almost two centuries, builders in Columbus knew how to do buildings that worked along with the gentle slope of High Street, with doors to each successive storefront a bit lower (or higher, depending on your direction). Each opened onto the common sidewalk. Now, suddenly, all the storefronts have to be at the same level, which means the sidewalk is on two levels.

Or is this an extremely permanent sidewalk cafe? This storefront is soon to be the next franchise of the Soup Nazi (Al Yageneh hates the moniker that has made him successful). Is that part of the sidewalk for customers only? Who knows? Not a word about it in the Dispatch, despite this very visible construction site at the Crossroads of Ohio, Broad and High.

Not much room for us little people, who are merely walking on the sidewalk and not eating at cafes.