Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman of Saudi Arabia once envisioned a shining city stretching across the desert — 170 kilometers long, rising 500 meters into the sky, and reflecting the sun like a colossal mirror. “The Line” (aka Neom) was to be the beating heart of a futuristic civilization — a city without cars, powered entirely by renewable energy, where nine million people would live in harmony with technology and nature. Within its mirrored walls, universities, hospitals, malls, and homes would coexist, connected by a high-speed train that promised to cross the city in just 20 minutes.
But what began as a symbol of human ambition soon became a monument to its limitations. Despite its $1.5 trillion budget and promises of completion by 2030, The Line stumbled over the very laws of physics and economics. Engineers warned that the structure’s ambitious design — including a 30-story inverted crystal building — could sway like a pendulum and eventually collapse. The artificial marina that was supposed to sustain life would, without natural waves, stagnate and rot.
Costs spiraled out of control, reaching a projected $4.5 trillion — roughly equal to Germany’s GDP. The project demanded 60% of the world’s concrete and steel reserves to complete, an impossible feat. Construction slowed to a crawl. What was once a vision for nine million residents has now been downsized to a mere half-million.
Today, The Line stands as a ghostly scar across the Saudi desert — half-dug trenches, towering foundations, and empty camps where workers once dreamed of building the future. The world’s most ambitious urban project has become a modern ruin, visible even from space. The Line is no longer a symbol of innovation, but a reminder that even limitless wealth cannot outbuild nature or rewrite the laws of reality.