Future Narrative #7 - Frictionless/Frictional Travel
This story came from a Data and Design lab that took place at the University of Edinburgh at the end of 2021. We worked with 50 participants from Scotland and abroad, all with interests in technology and travel. We used provocations of the weight of the past, the push of the present, and pull of the future to brainstorm a world for this narrative. A somewhat dystopian scenario is painted in which life choices - from having children, to career path, to travel - are tied to your overall carbon social score in Aberdeen in 2040.
Illustrated by Cat O’Neil and written by Máire Ryan.
Frictionless/Frictional Travel - Illustrated by Cat O’Neill
In 2040, Scotland stands as a beacon of environmental transformation.
Every street corner, every industry, and every individual life is calibrated to serve a greater ecological purpose. At the heart of this revolution is a sophisticated "score" system, which meticulously tracks citizens' ecological choices, rewarding or penalizing them based on their contributions to the planet. Catalysing significant social change, this bureaucratic development comes with a fresh set of challenges, through which personal rights come up against change for the greater good.
Two women move along the hillside. It’s possible to discern that one deliberately stomps up ahead, pausing only to scan the horizon and yell something back to their walking partner. The other ambles, stopping often to identify the flora and fauna that pepper the hillocks, to offer nods or shrugs to the barrage of questions their leader sends over the wind. You’d be right in assuming the woman in front is the elder sister: Naya, carving a stolid strut through Aberdeenshire’s seemingly never-ending rurality. Saskia, the baby sister, tethered at the waist by invisible genetic strings, is pulled along in her wake, giving the air of a twig obeying a river’s current. These treks are Naya’s way of meeting her sister so that she can assess her physical and mental health. Where Naya (anchored to her town) would much rather catch a film or sip a cocktail, Saskia is something of an environmental nut (as Naya often reminds her). By joining her sister out in the wilds, even though it is cold, uncomfortable and unstimulating for Naya, she offers Saskia an activity that won’t set her precious little brow in a furl. The fact is, Naya needs to believe this hike is for her sister. The reality is somewhat more complex.
If you ask Saskia–not that anyone does, since Naya is the talker–Naya’s resistance to progression is the only thing that embarrasses her about her sister. So much so that she very rarely mentions Naya outside of the family unit; colleagues at the world-renowned environmental charity she works for are always surprised when they find out she is not an only child. Saskia is so pensive, so dreamy. Romantic, in the artistic sense. Often to be found staring winsomely out of the window like a mid-19th century heroine, between bursts of breakneck typing (which somewhat shatters the illusion). She keeps to herself, mostly, constantly exploring ways she can make her moves to contribute to the cessation of global suffering. She’s always felt the world’s pain deeply and has been mocked for this relentlessly (by Naya, who else?) since she was small. The idea that she hasn’t cultivated this isolated air due to a childhood of solitude raises professional eyebrows, on the odd occasion that Naya’s presence makes itself known.
Naya’s presence is all too good at making itself known, that’s for sure. Despite only being 20 months apart, the big sister belongs to an entirely different world order. She would not necessarily describe herself as “traditionalist”, but quite a few loudmouths have hurled this at her mid-debate. The thing is, Naya would prefer “sentimentalist” as a moniker, but the world doesn’t seem to agree that her more archaic values are born of a strong connection to her youth. Rather, these values are often dismissed as “backwards”. Naya is boxed in: seemingly oblivious to the societal shifts that build around her like a construction site on overtime. She works in oil–once potentially controversial, now taboo–eats for fuel and consumes what is immediately, cheaply available. Back when she could travel, she would embark on business trips regularly, via the quickest (rather than the cleanest) routes. It was all about efficiency in the early days; the environment was an afterthought. She couldn’t have predicted her work ethic would sink her eco-scores, once they became a thing. She’s still a grafter and no one can take that away from her. For all the good it does her.
If anyone dares to get close enough to the sisters on the blustery hill, they’ll retreat: sharpish. The back-and-forth occurring as they ascend oscillates around one of their more contentious topics: having children. Naya, mother to four, is anathema to the Conscious Childbearing Cap due to her sizeable brood. An initiative designed to reward more careful family planning (and punish those who continue to contribute flagrantly to mass overpopulation). While Naya could see the logic of the initiative, she simultaneously felt her reproductive rights, her ancient duty, to be threatened. Thus, she had far more children than initially intended. Saskia irks her deeply in this regard. Although she hasn’t ever dared to voice it, the little sister is slightly galled by the elder’s politicised breeding. Not that Naya would need this confirming: Saskia is currently funding her eighth child abroad, having eagerly signed up to an initiative supporting poverty-stricken children in developing nations. They’ve never discussed this in detail, but Naya suspects the handsome additions to Saskia’s impressive eco-score (and, thus, her wallet) probably have something to do with this seemingly selfless gesture. Would she not like to have children of her own? Isn’t that what the whole point is? Saskia offers guarded, vague responses: maybe, someday, not right now. Saskia can afford to support double the children that Naya, ironically penalised for having so many, currently struggles to feed in the last, excruciating days before payday.
The next item on the nag agenda is travel. It pains Naya that Saskia isn’t exploring the world with more zeal, more carefreeness. Saskia who, due to her ecological diligence, has e-citizenships to no less than 15 progressive nations, and counting. These citizenships aren’t just symbolic–Naya’s done her research–they offer Saskia a treasure trove of privileges: not least door-to-door travel and countless work opportunities. Saskia has unfettered access to explore, to engage with the world, but she doesn’t bother to use it. It’s not just that Naya’s score currently limits her to the foothills just outside of her home in Aberdeen. It’s not just that she’d give almost anything to experience even 24 hours in a completely new context, away from the embarrassed or–even worse–condemning eyes of her neighbours. It’s mostly that her sister has all this potential to roam, to be free, and seems to be so resistant to embracing this. Saskia feels it would be cruel to inform her sister of an upcoming three-week work-and-leisure package she will be taking, exploring the Pyrenees and dipping into the countries they sit upon. She’ll want for nothing, and pay for nothing, travelling in the eco-friendliest transportation modes available throughout. It would feel like bragging, even though it’s Saskia’s hard work that’s earned her this adventure.
Two women move along the hillside. It’s possible to conclude that the sisters roam the countryside close to Naya’s home because Naya is very much stuck there. Prior to the new world order, we might have expected that Saskia’s hermetic lifestyle–driven by environmental guilt–would set her apart as the more socially questionable of the two. As it currently stands, in the Scotland of 2050, it is Naya who drew the short straw. While she could have adapted to the changes, implemented with rapidity but still sensible, she chose to dig her heels in. She’s being punished as a result of her lack of willingness to improve. It is Saskia, the follower, who truly leads the way, even as she stumbles behind her sister.
Provocation Questions
Considering the direction we are headed in the climate crisis, do you prefer a future with a carbon scoring system?
Why or why not?
And when do you think this might be implemented?