The Metaverse: Part 1
A papier-mâché world
Have you met the Metaverse? It reminds me of a “Pinky and the Brain'' episode from the 1990s. If you are not familiar with the series, the premise is that Brain (a highly intelligent and maladaptive lab mouse) tries to take over the world in every episode, but his dopey sidekick Pinky manages to unwillingly thwart every plan. The particular clip that comes to mind is the first episode of Season 2. Brain masterminds a plan to build a papier-mâché copy of the Earth and lure everyone to the new Earth with the promise of free t-shirts. Then Pinky and the Brain would return to the original Earth to rule. Turns out, everyone likes the copied Earth and stays there, leaving the Brain with no one to rule on the original Earth.
Are humans that divine?
Over 55% of the world’s religiously affiliated population (including Christians, Muslims, and Jews) shares a history that includes stories from the Bible in which God destroys the earth to start anew (by flood in the story of Noah), and the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah (destroyed by fire) are burned to the ground since God finds no person worth saving there. Is the metaverse the 21st century’s version of putting our future in the abandonment of the urban ills of today and into the promises of what might come tomorrow?
Throughout history, people have sought to create newness, be it in response to destruction, opportunity, fortune seeking, or improving on “undesirable” conditions. The irony of acting on our innate tendencies to eschew old for new is that we have so often left human and environmental destruction in our wake. And intentional planning and design do not guarantee superlative, or even better, results. While perhaps successful in an academic sense, Brasilia and Chandigarh were experiments in creating new cities using a “tabula rasa” approach to planning from the top down. Out of these designs came legendary pieces of modernist architecture that are resounding failures in human-scale considerations and experiences. Other planned attempts have been mixed in the reviews of history. The suburban planning of post-WWII America changed the landscape of the country (and influenced the design in many places around the world), and planners have been dealing with the negative implications of mass-suburbanization for decades (from environmental degradation to public health epidemics to flooding and resiliency challenges). And sometimes planned attempts have been outright destructive: the introduction of ‘urban blight’ as a post-WWII government term gave license to condemn - legally - and destroy communities of color across the United States.
I get why people want to make places better. In real life, people, communities, and leaders have to work constantly to sustain and improve living conditions, economic opportunities, transportation, and public spaces.
The irony of acting on our innate tendencies to eschew old for new is that we have so often left human and environmental destruction in our wake. And intentional planning and design do not guarantee superlative, or even better, results.