A look into Saudi Arabia's 'The Line': a futuristic utopia or dystopia?

digital rights researchers to deem it a ‘surveillance city.’

Intended to be a 110 miles long smart city with a population of nine million, resulting in a population density 38 times that of Hong Kong, Saudi Arabia’s ‘The Line’ raises questions as to whether it is merely a vanity project or an effective plan for some futuristic utopia.

Located in the province of Tabuk, near the border with Egypt, it is estimated to cost around $200 bn (some estimates placing it near $1 tn) and bring more than 400,000 jobs to the region.

As part of Crown Prince Salman’s ‘Saudi Vision 2030’ project, it is the latest in a whole heap of futuristic developments in the gulf region, the most recent being of course the Qatari FIFA World Cup. It is indeed hard not to contrast this project with the current atmosphere in employment; the region’s seemingly lax approach to workers’ rights and often underpaid South Asian immigrant labourers working under wealthy employers illustrate a different picture than that of the project.

In terms of engineering, it seems like a challenging project and will no doubt be one of the wonders of the modern world, should it be completed. It is intended to be completely carbon neutral, with no cars or roads. Logistically, however, it will be interesting to see how the state deals with supplying a city 110 miles long.

Logically, cities span an open area; the rationale behind the linear design is an interesting one that will ostensibly provide a shorter travel distance. Will we see transportation of the future, with possibilities including Maglev or even ‘Hyperloop’ trains?

In its early days of construction there have already been ‘issues’ to say the least. The project has displaced the native Howeitat tribe, even sentencing three to death after refusing to vacate their homes.

No ma er the investment and engineering complexity, from a moral standpoint, actions as rash and strict as this so early into the project do not bode well for the future.

From an economic point of view, even for a state as rich as Saudi Arabia, financing the project has proved challenging. The ‘Public Investment Fund’, one of the largest sovereign wealth funds in the world, saw certain contributors withdraw from the project.

This began with the assassination of journalist Jamal Khashoggi in the Saudi consulate in Istanbul around four years ago. Since then companies such as JPMorgan, Blackrock, Google pulled out of conferences, alongside major media houses.

Thus, even with the project’s estimated £514 bn worth of assets, it is unlikely for construction to be completed on time, especially if Western, ‘supports’ continue backing away.

Transportation of the future with possibilities including Maglev or even Hyperloop trains

Also, whilst the regime has made sure to emphasise the ‘no emissions’ part of The Line, worldwide construction industry itself accounts for nearly 40% of worldwide energyrelated CO2 emissions.

It is difficult not to see the dystopian aspect

To take a more philosophical point of view, however, it is difficult not to see the dystopian aspect. Coming from an absolute monarchy with a differential approach to human rights, the city’s data collection scheme has caused some

It is physically impossible to build a 1,600 ft tall building out of low carbon materials. Philip Oldfield, of the University of New South Wales, has estimated the carbon footprint of construction to be approximately 1.8 Gigatonnes of CO2 equivalent (for comparison the entirety of the UK produced 0.5 Gigatonnes CO2 equivalent in 2021 according to the ONS).

To summarise, whilst it will no doubt be a testament to mankind’s ingenuity and be a leap into the ever-promised ‘cities of tomorrow’, The Line is yet the latest thought experiment that is gone too far. The human cost has already been large enough, with the mentioned death sentences, and it is a harrowing thought to wonder what lies in store.

The great outpouring of support for Jacinda Ardern this past week marks her widespread impact as a leader adored by many beyond her nation’s borders. Ardern first a racted significant international a ention as the country’s youngest leader in 150 years. When she had a baby in office and brought her newly born daughter to the floor at the United Nations she was portrayed as something of a feminist icon for juggling such a politically demanding career with motherhood. Nevertheless, reactions to her departure reflect an interesting array of interpretations of her time in office.

Women have often been plagued by patriarchal expectations that they cannot embody the ‘true’ masculine traits of leadership: decisiveness, confidence, an ability to make ‘tough’ decisions. Yet once female leaders embody such traits, they are labelled coldhearted, unlikeable and ‘bossy.’ Moreover, Toril Aalberg and Andres Todal Jenssen’s research ‘Gender Stereotyping of Political Candidates’ shows that women are more likely to be asked how they will balance their careers with domestic-life and childcare than their male counterparts. Additionally, women’s private life get more media coverage and their appearance is highly scrutinised by the press, namely the misogyny directed at Hilary Clinton during the 2016 election. Such circumstances have long disincentivised many women from a political profession. Thus, like many before her, Ardern had to contend with sexist lines of questioning such as in 2017 when she was asked if a Prime Minister should be allowed maternity leave. More recently, when meeting Finnish Prime Minister Sanna Marin, both leaders were asked if they were meeting because they were “similar in age and have got a lot of common stuff there.” at older women like Clinton or women of colour like Diane Abbot. Her heterosexual relationship and position as a mother has no doubt reassured those suspicious of her ‘feminine qualities’ that she retains certain gender roles. Thus she has been saved from the criticism directed at single or childless female politicians, such as Julia Gillard who was told her decision to remain “deliberately barren” proved she was an unempathetic leader. Thus, while we should commend Ardern’s more humane and a less masculine form of leadership, we should not ignore the benefits of her compliance with received notions of womanhood.

The question is how did Ardern manage to avoid sexist labels ascribed to her while in office? How did she become famous for inspiring ‘feminine’ leadership in contrast to female leaders before her? Sheer political success may be the answer. From her decisive handling of the Christchurch terrorist a ack to her careful management of the coronavirus pandemic, it's no surprise personal a acks have less sting when political success remains high. Moreover, her unique leadership style and political honesty has bolstered her popularity. Her emotional intelligence and willingness to engage with voters in a down to earth manner has served to build a sense of trust that politicians usually struggle to create. Her advocacy for kindness and empathy contrasts heavily with the hallmarks we see in the populist ‘strongman’ leaders like Putin, Trump, or Bolsonaro. Finally, her willingness to admit self-doubt has humanised her to voters and begun to break the taboo that leaders should always be 100% confident in their own political decisions.

It was inevitable that some pessimisticjournalistic commentaries would condescendingly read Ardern’s exit as the final proof she had to face up to the restrictions imposed on her by her gender. The same publications that once celebrated her achievements as a woman now argue she maybe wasn’t that exceptional after all. The BBC came under fire for its headline: "Jacinda Ardern resignation: Can women really have it all?" condescendingly implying that Ardern’s departure was a result of her trying to juggle more roles that any woman is capable of. Fortunately, the BBC retracted the headline, but it raises the question of whether high achieving women suffer from increased gender bias once they leave office and the glamour of their ‘exceptionalism’ fades.

Nonetheless, part of the reason Ardern has received more favourable media a ention is undoubtedly due to certain social biases. Her youth and status as a white woman prevents her from receiving cruel criticism levelled

If anything, Ardern’s reflection that she no longer has ‘enough left in the tank’ should not be taken as caving to the calls of motherhood. Instead, it should be seen as a courageous decision by a well-established leader to hand the reins over to someone else with more dedication to give. If only other political leaders were as self-aware and less concerned with their political legacy, we might have more selfless and truly democratic leadership.