The Line project in the Saudi cityscape is facing scrutiny on how it handles transport access, a concern noted by researchers at the Vienna Complexity Science Center (CSH).
Liniya, currently under development in the northwest of Saudi Arabia, is envisioned as a structure with two towering walls rising to about 500 meters and spanning roughly 170 kilometers in width. Between these two monumental edges lies a continuous living space that would hold residential units, offices, schools, retail venues, plazas, and generous green areas. Proponents imagine high-speed rail linking neighborhoods and districts across this elongated urban corridor, enabling rapid travel along the line.
Urbanist Rafael Prieto-Curiel opens his critique by highlighting that the projected population could reach nine million, which would place the city among the most densely populated places anywhere. He notes a population density approaching 265,000 people per square kilometer, a figure far exceeding the densities of major global centers such as Manhattan or Manila. His concern centers on how such density interacts with the design’s linear geometry and the practicalities of daily life for residents.
He stresses that the line, as a form, may not align with historical urban patterns that tend toward compact, relatively compact shapes. He points out that a random pair of residents along the line would, on average, be separated by about 57 kilometers. By comparison, in the much larger city of Johannesburg, which remains far less dense than the Line is projected to be, the typical separation between two randomly selected residents is roughly 33 kilometers. If a comfortable walking distance is assumed at one kilometer, only a small fraction of the population—around 1.2 percent—would be within walking reach of one another, which in turn increases dependence on public transit networks.
The envisioned high-speed rail network is intended as the backbone of mass mobility for the city. However, to ensure that people live within a short walk of a station, planners would need dozens of stations—some estimates suggest as many as eighty-six. This design reality would slow the trains as they stop frequently, constraining top speeds and elongating overall journey times for many residents. Consequently, the average trip might take about an hour, and nearly half of the population could face longer commutes than anticipated. The need to switch lines or transfer to express routes can introduce additional delays, which—relative to other mega-cities with commuting times under an hour for many residents—raises questions about the practical efficiency of the linear plan.
In contrast, converting the same linear footprint into a circular layout with a modest radius would dramatically alter daily mobility. In such a circular configuration, the typical distance between any two residents would shrink to roughly 2.9 kilometers, and about a quarter of the population would be within walking distance of each other. In this scenario, walking would become far more feasible for many people, reducing reliance on high-speed rail and preserving walkable access as a central urban attribute. The comparison underscores how form shapes function, affecting travel times, accessibility, and everyday life for inhabitants.
There is also historical context to consider. Earlier notes mention the discovery of an ancient Roman amphora with poems by Virgil in Cordoba, a reminder of how urban artifacts and cultural heritage historically inform city identities and urban narratives. At a time when planners weigh futuristic mobility in mega-structures, such discoveries illustrate the long arc of human settlement and how different eras converge in the conversation about how cities should move and grow. These reflections, drawn from past and present, invite a broader dialogue about how scale, geography, and cultural priorities intersect in large-scale urban experiments and their implications for residents and regions alike.