Last night, I stepped off a flight into Terminal B of the Indianapolis airport, where a police officer immediately rode past me on a bike. I thought that image perfectly captured the contradiction that airports embody: On one hand, they’re our most pure spatial manifestations of surveillance capitalism, where we temporarily trade freedom (mostly the kind we don’t really use anyway) for convenience and expedience; on the other hand, airports are some of the most pedestrian-friendly and car-free public spaces we have, futurist urbanist paradises that we can’t construct in the chaotic pluralism of the outside world. As Edwin Heathcote
#98: The Last American Hero
#98: The Last American Hero
#98: The Last American Hero
Last night, I stepped off a flight into Terminal B of the Indianapolis airport, where a police officer immediately rode past me on a bike. I thought that image perfectly captured the contradiction that airports embody: On one hand, they’re our most pure spatial manifestations of surveillance capitalism, where we temporarily trade freedom (mostly the kind we don’t really use anyway) for convenience and expedience; on the other hand, airports are some of the most pedestrian-friendly and car-free public spaces we have, futurist urbanist paradises that we can’t construct in the chaotic pluralism of the outside world. As Edwin Heathcote