Imagine pouring trillions into a dream city in the middle of the desert, only to watch it shrink before your eyes. That’s pretty much what’s happening with one of the world’s most hyped urban projects right now. I’ve always been fascinated by these massive visions—bold ideas that promise to reshape how we live—but sometimes reality bites hard, doesn’t it?
A few years back, there was this grand announcement: a straight-line city slicing through the sand for over a hundred miles, packed with cutting-edge tech, no cars, everything within walking distance. It sounded revolutionary. But fast forward to today, and things look a lot different. The scale has been dialed way back, timelines stretched out, and questions are piling up about whether it’ll ever match the original hype.
What strikes me most is how this echoes some massive building booms elsewhere—places where entire districts or even cities were erected on pure optimism, only to sit mostly empty for years. It’s a reminder that no matter how much money or ambition you throw at it, cities need more than shiny structures to thrive. They need people, jobs, and real demand driving them forward.
The Grand Vision Behind the Linear City
Back in 2021, the idea was unveiled with a lot of fanfare. Picture this: a narrow, super-long urban strip, 170 kilometers from end to end, housing up to nine million people in a compact, eco-friendly setup. Everything powered by renewables, high-speed transport zipping you across in minutes, and daily needs just a short stroll away. It was pitched as the future of living—dense but green, innovative but livable.
The project sits within a much larger regional development aimed at transforming a remote northwestern corner of the country into a global hub for tourism, tech, and industry. The goal? Break away from relying so heavily on one commodity and build something sustainable for the long haul. Ambitious doesn’t even cover it.
In those early renders, it looked incredible—mirrored walls towering over the desert, lush green layers inside, drones buzzing around. Who wouldn’t get excited about that? But even then, some folks raised eyebrows. How do you actually fill a place like that? Where do the jobs come from? And crucially, who’s footing the ever-growing bill?
Cities aren’t just architectural wonders; they’re living ecosystems built on economic necessity and human activity.
That’s the thing. Planners sometimes get caught up in the design, forgetting that real cities evolve organically around work opportunities and community needs, not the other way around.
The Scaling Back: What Changed?
By late 2025, the reality has shifted dramatically. Reports indicate the initial phase is now limited to just a couple of kilometers—way down from the full length promised. Population targets for the near term have dropped to around 300,000 or less, a fraction of the millions once envisioned.
Completion dates keep pushing out. Some parts might wrap up in the coming decades, but the whole thing? We’re talking potentially 50 years or more, maybe even a century to fully build and populate. Funding challenges have hit hard, with the sovereign wealth fund reportedly writing down billions and pausing certain works.
Construction is ongoing in spots—piles going in, earth moving—but the pace and scope don’t match the early boldness. Priorities have shifted toward other infrastructure, like energy projects, while this flagship gets recalibrated.
- Original length: Over 170 km
- Current phase: Around 2-5 km by 2030
- Initial population goal: Up to 9 million eventually
- Revised near-term: Under 300,000
- Timeline extension: Full build possibly to 2045 or beyond
It’s not abandoned—far from it. There are still advancements, like marina sections and partnerships for design. But the dream has been tempered by practical hurdles.
Echoes of Empty Developments Elsewhere
This isn’t the first time we’ve seen mega-urban projects outpace demand. Think about those vast new districts built in anticipation of explosive growth, only to remain sparsely populated for long stretches.
In some countries, rapid expansion led to dozens of under-occupied areas. Massive investments in concrete and steel, fueled by easy credit and growth forecasts, resulted in neighborhoods with modern amenities but few residents. Some have filled up over time as economies matured and people migrated in. Others linger with high vacancy rates, a stark reminder of overbuilding.
Estimates suggest tens of millions of unused housing units in certain places, tying up resources that could have gone elsewhere. It’s not all doom—many “empty” zones eventually attracted life—but the initial mismatch cost dearly.
True urban success comes from matching supply to genuine demand, not forcing the issue with top-down decrees.
Urban planning insights
I’ve found that the most vibrant places grow bottom-up, responding to market needs rather than grand blueprints alone.
Why Demand Matters More Than Design
At the heart of these challenges is a simple truth: cities are labor markets first. People flock where there are jobs, networks, and opportunities. Fancy architecture helps, but it doesn’t create economic pull on its own.
For this linear city, the big question remains: what industries will anchor it? Tech hubs? Tourism? Manufacturing? Commitments have been slow, and without clear employers signing on, it’s tough to draw permanent residents.
Plus, building in remote desert adds layers of complexity—logistics, water, energy—all costly. When funding relies heavily on volatile commodity prices, fluctuations can derail momentum quickly.
Perhaps the most interesting aspect is how institutions play into this. Open, inclusive systems tend to foster innovation and attract talent better than rigid hierarchies. Merit-based opportunities, free exchange of ideas—these fuel real growth.
- Strong institutions encourage meritocracy
- Job quotas can distort markets
- Political freedoms spark creativity
- Transient workers build less community
In my experience, places that welcome diverse talents and allow bottom-up innovation thrive longest.
The Broader Push for Diversification
This project ties into a national strategy launched nearly a decade ago to wean the economy off heavy resource reliance. Vision 2030 has driven real changes: more women in the workforce, booming tourism, entertainment scenes taking off.
Non-oil revenues have grown, home ownership risen, and international investment poured in for sports and events. Progress on social fronts has been notable too—opening up entertainment, easing some restrictions.
Yet oil still dominates budgets and GDP. Prices swing, and so does fiscal room for big bets. Diversification is happening, but slower than hoped, with megaprojects absorbing huge sums amid tightening belts.
| Area | Progress | Challenges |
| Tourism & Entertainment | Strong growth | Sustainability |
| Non-oil Revenue | Significant increase | Still secondary |
| Megaprojects | Mixed, delays common | Cost overruns |
| Workforce Participation | Targets met early | Institutional barriers |
It’s a mixed bag—wins in some areas, stubborn hurdles in others.
Human and Environmental Costs
No discussion is complete without touching on the tougher sides. Relocating communities for these developments has sparked controversy, with reports of resistance met harshly. Environmental impacts in fragile desert ecosystems raise flags too.
Building sustainably means more than renewables—it involves respecting local peoples and habitats. Balancing ambition with ethics isn’t easy, but it’s crucial for long-term legitimacy.
What Does the Future Hold?
Looking ahead, phased approaches might work better—starting small, proving concepts, then expanding as demand builds. Attracting anchor industries early could create that vital pull.
Maybe hybrid models, blending top-down vision with organic growth, offer the best path. And learning from past overbuilds elsewhere could help avoid repeating empty expanses.
In the end, cities endure when they serve people’s real needs—jobs, community, quality of life. No amount of gloss can substitute for that foundation.
It’s fascinating to watch this unfold. Will scaled-back plans lead to something more realistic and successful? Or will challenges mount further? One thing’s sure: building the future is messy, but the effort itself signals big changes ahead.
These grand experiments teach us plenty about ambition, limits, and what really makes places come alive. What’s your take—can top-down utopias ever fully work, or do we need more grassroots momentum?
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