This is part three of the series Four Cautionary Tales for Abu Dhabi. Click Here, to read more about the series and access the other parts.
It took a couple of years of operation for Masdar City’s elected board of directors to realize that their hopes for a carbon-neutral and zero-waste city were unreachable. That is, unless some drastic steps were taken. The residents of Masdar, despite all the behavior correction workshops they were forced to attend, displayed a shocking amount of irresponsibility. Electricity and water consumption were far above the city’s benchmarks, litter was too often seen on the streets, and some of the new buildings with high-tech facades were even vandalized. No one could explain the residents’ perverse carelessness.
The final line was crossed when the city woke up to find that dozens of walls had been sprayed with graffiti the night before. Each wall was defaced with a different short statement. It was obvious that this was a coordinated effort, later to be condemned as an act of “verbal terrorism.” To generalize, we can say that the graffitied statements were all confessions expressing bottled-up guilt from failing to live up to the city’s sustainability goals. They included: “I keep the AC on year-round,” “I take long showers,” “I sometimes pick flowers from street planters,” “I dropped a plastic wrapper once and didn’t pick it up,” “I throw all my trash in the recycle bin,” and so on.
Most Masdarians thought the comments were funny and identified with their rebellious sentiment. This was the result of their deep anxiety regarding their self-worth, and the constant guilt they felt about their behavior that was “murdering Mother Earth,” as the board liked to preach. That feeling was by then widespread throughout Masdar’s population. The residents had for several years been scolded by the board of directors and official media outlets: described as wasteful, ignorant, and ultimately undeserving to live in Masdar City. In one famous televised interview, an especially grumpy board member said: “The truth is that Masdar City would be better off if a plague came tomorrow and wiped out half its population.” Only after a moment’s reflection did he add, “the bad half of course.”
Needless to say, the board did not find the sprayed statements funny. They held an emergency meeting the day after the “Open Confessions Incident,” as it became locally known. They knew that unless they made some tough decisions, things would slip further into disorder, and their sustainability goals would sink deeper into oblivion. The board was prepared to do anything it took. They activated a little-known clause in Masdar’s constitution called the “Green Law.” Originally, this set of extreme measures was designed to counter existential crises that the city might face. Now, it gave the board unlimited power and suspended any future elections that could replace them. In the next few days, new laws came in quick and merciless succession.
One—Electricity and water consumption was immediately cut in half. Any residence that exceeded its allotted amount was subject to a large fine and public humiliation. The punishment of public humiliation took different shapes, mostly depending on the creativity of the ruling judge, but there were some popular methods. For example, the head of the household would be forced to wear a red Kandura or abaya (traditional Arab garments for men and women respectively) for an entire week. Their specific crimes would be embroidered in bold green letters that contrasted sharply with the red fabric.
Two—To achieve further reduction in water consumption, all street plants needing artificial irrigation (which is all of them: it’s a desert) were ripped out. To counter this sudden loss of greenery, all streets were painted green, in addition to the bottom 50 cm of all buildings. To complete this “Green Foundation” policy, all residents were required to wear green shoes and pants/skirts. Outfits that were not divided at the waist, such as Kanduras and abayas, were either half-dipped in green paint, colored green entirely, or outlawed.
Three—Littering was raised from a misdemeanor to a felony, resulting in immediate deportation from Masdar. To enforce this law, the “Green Force” was formed. They wore a white uniform with a green mask, cape, and boots (they would later have their own comic book series, cinematic universe, and TV show). Members of the Green Force were stationed on every street, where they spent day and night making sure the law was respected. Their methods were so terrifying that children were scared of mistakenly dropping anything from their hands for fear it would be considered littering. Hearing of this, the board adjusted this law by adding the “5 Second Rule” amendment: if an item is dropped in a public space and not picked up in five seconds, it is considered littering. One of the Green Force ‘heroes’ would rush in, confront the criminal, handcuff them, and drag them to the nearest Green Den, to never again be seen in Masdar.
Four—Three new ministries were established. The first was called the Green Eyes. They conducted absolute surveillance. Nothing happened in a public square or in one’s bedroom without them knowing. All offenses were recorded; all offenses were punished. Their confusing slogan was: “You Have Nothing to Hide.” The second was the Ministry of Reeducation. They organized weekly reeducation workshops that lasted for most of the weekend. Between lectures, demonstrations, and group exercises, nothing was left unexplained. Masdar’s residents were taught exactly how they were expected to live their lives. More than anything else, the ministry’s educators prided themselves on their incredibly detailed instructions, resulting in what they called “total pedagogy.” The third was the Ministry of Extreme Crimes Against Nature. They dealt with crimes deemed so egregious that the existing judicial system was under-equipped to handle. I would rather not speak about their day-to-day work.
Once these laws—and many others like them—went into full effect, life in Masdar City changed drastically. At first, the residents complained and even tried to organize a few protests. But that didn’t last. The board quickly established the Ministry of Public Nagging, and the civic peace was restored. On the other hand, the board considered these new laws a shattering success. Masdar was consuming less electricity and water than ever before. Additionally, the city was able to dismiss all its street sweepers since there wasn't anything to sweep. Everything was running smoothly and efficiently. For the first time since its inception, Masdar truly became a zero-energy and zero-waste city.
The international media jumped on this amazing success story. Journalists were sent to report on the city’s pristine streets and interview the city’s board of directors. They usually started their articles with something like: “From the endless sands of the Arabian desert, a new hope for humanity is rising like a blazing phoenix…etc.” Also, policymakers and urban planners were sent from around the world to learn from the city’s experience. As a result, similar sustainability policies were tried in other global cities, though with unpredictable results. But what impressed the visitors most was how “well-behaved” the Masdarians were, although they were always disappointed to discover that they were too shy to give interviews. When approached by a visitor, Masdarians usually glanced at the official guide accompanying the visitor, respectfully declined to be interviewed, and hurried along their way.
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