In the realm of global ambitions, few projects are as emblematic of hubris as Saudi Arabia’s Neom and its flagship, The Line. Promoted as a marvel of futuristic urban planning, it promises to reshape not only Saudi Arabia but the future of civilization itself. However, beneath the shiny veneer of high-tech promise lies an unsettling pattern: the overestimation of technological feasibility, the unrealistic projection of economic benefits, and the often misguided priorities of political elites seeking symbolic victories. The sudden reassessment of The Line’s feasibility underscores a critical flaw in the neoliberal obsession with megastructures—an overreliance on grandiosity that often manifests as a reckless diversion of public resources.
The Saudi government, driven by the vision of Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, envisioned Neom as a new economic frontier that would diversify away from oil dependence and reposition the kingdom at the forefront of futuristic development. Yet, this narrative conveniently glosses over the fundamental questions that any rational investor or policymaker should ask: Are the technological innovations truly feasible? Will the costs outweigh the benefits? And crucially, does this pursuit serve the broader interests of the Saudi people or simply the ego of a regime eager to impress the world?
The recent strategic review conducted by consulting firms is a long-overdue reality check that exposes theCORE veneer of progress. Instead of perpetuating the myth of inevitability, this moment offers an opportunity—albeit a painful one—to realistically evaluate whether these utopian visions are merely mirages built on overly optimistic forecasts and political bravado.
The Financial Pitfalls and the Limitations of Technological Fantasies
At the heart of the controversy is the immense financial investment required for the Neom project, with estimates soaring as high as $1.5 trillion—an astronomical figure that demands rigorous scrutiny. The project’s grandeur, centered on The Line—a 105-mile linear city with ultra-modern skyscrapers and a high-speed rail system—sounds impressive, but close inspection reveals troubling doubts. Are the technological components, such as high-speed transit or sustainable urban infrastructure, even viable on this scale? Many experts argue that these innovations are more aspirational than practical, especially considering the complexity of executing such plans in a desert environment with limited existing infrastructure.
Compounding the issue is the fragility of the economic assumptions that undergird the project. The Saudi government’s heavy reliance on oil revenues—a traditional and volatile source of income—is increasingly untenable in a world shifting toward renewable energy and dropping oil prices. With crude benchmarks falling to around $70 per barrel in recent times, the fiscal sustainability of giant projects like Neom becomes skeptical at best. Public finances are under pressure, and the once seemingly unlimited fountain of petro-dollars is now more of a dwindling trickle. This reality demands a more cautious approach, yet the political allure of technological supremacy continues to fuel unrealistic expectations.
Moreover, the over-optimistic forecasts provided by consultants and contractors, often driven by a desire to keep their lucrative contracts intact, have historically created inflated expectations. These “yes-man” mentalities distort reality, leading to critical misalignments between projected and achievable outcomes. When the inevitable recalibration occurs, disillusionment follows—poorly managed expectations, loss of trust, and the questioning of the very legitimacy of such grand projects.
The Political and Social Costs of Oversized Ambitions
The human element often takes a backseat in these high-stakes gambles. While the Saudi regime touts Neom and The Line as symbols of modernization and progress, the social costs are often disregarded or understated. Massive infrastructure projects of this nature tend to prioritize visual spectacle over the needs of everyday citizens. Long-term planning must incorporate genuine local engagement and focus on improving quality of life for existing residents rather than pouring billions into futuristic constructs that may never materialize.
Furthermore, the political narrative surrounding these projects risks becoming a form of escapism—an attempt to distract from persistent issues such as unemployment, inequality, or regional tensions. When large-scale development plans stumble or require scaling back, it not only strains government credibility but also erodes public trust in leadership’s ability to pursue meaningful growth. A focus on quick wins and symbolic gestures often eclipses the need for economic reforms rooted in sound policy, education, and diversification strategies that are truly inclusive.
The projected downsizing and re-evaluation of The Line’s scope signal a shift toward reality—a recognition that hyper-ambitious projects, driven by political ambitions and untested technologies, can do more harm than good. This pragmatic approach, although less glamorous, offers a chance for Saudi Arabia to refocus on sustainable development grounded in attainable goals rather than fleeting illusions of technological utopia.
Despite the political repetition of lofty goals and technological dreams, there remains an urgent need to question whether such grand visions serve the long-term interests of the nation or merely the image of its rulers. The real progress for Saudi Arabia—and similar nations—will be measured not by the tallest skyscraper or the most futuristic city but by the capacity to foster a resilient economy, a fair society, and a sustainable environment.