speculative-designs

[speculative-designs]

Effects of War

By the mid-21st century, the world had plunged into unprecedented turmoil. Decades of relentless climate change had transformed fertile landscapes into arid deserts, while soaring CO₂ levels intensified global temperatures and weather extremes. In a desperate bid to avert famine, governments worldwide embraced genetically modified organisms (GMOs). However, these engineered crops backfired disastrously, contaminating food supplies and causing widespread health crises. As resources dwindled, nations fractured, and chaos ensued as factions battled relentlessly for control over the remaining arable land and food reserves. Society disintegrated under the strain of environmental collapse and human desperation, setting the stage for endless conflict and the erosion of humanity itself.

Effects of War

Samir crouched in the rubble, clutching a small, tattered doll he’d found buried near the barracks—a strange, fragile thing in a world where softness had no place. War had hollowed out everything inside him, training him to be quick, obedient, and numb. They called him “Scout” because he was small and silent, slipping through broken buildings to scavenge for supplies, feeling nothing as he passed remnants of lives long destroyed.

Tonight, amidst the ruins of a once-thriving city now consumed by conflict, he found a book lying in the dust, its faded cover showing children running through fields—an ironic relic of a lost paradise. He stared at it, a strange ache stirring inside him. This doll, this book—they made him feel things he couldn’t afford, emotions that sharpened his loneliness and softened the numb armor he’d built around himself. As he looked at the doll’s worn face, memories of a world with laughter and safety crept into his mind, pressing on him until they felt unbearable.

Before he could stop himself, Samir crushed the doll in his hands, twisting it until it was nothing but scraps of fabric. He threw the pieces into the rubble, the ache dissolving into emptiness again. With a final glance at the book, he tore it apart too, scattering the pages in the wind. It was better this way, he told himself. Without these pieces of the past—a past destroyed by climate failure and human greed—he could stay hollow, stay strong, stay alive in a world where hope was the first casualty of war.

[speculative-designs]

Dystopia 2145: Shadows of Tomorrow

In 2145, humanity's relentless pursuit of profit had left the earth scarred. The overuse of GMO fertilizers, driven by insatiable greed, had stripped fertile lands of their vitality. Villagers were forced to abandon their homes, migrating to overcrowded cities where fertile land was scarce and safe, genuine food was a distant dream.

Amara stood on the rooftop of her Habitat Harmony skyscraper, gazing at the towering buildings draped in greenery. These skyscrapers were not just homes but ecosystems, with rooftop farms and vertical gardens essential for urban survival. The Sustainable Food Synthesizer on her rooftop hummed silently, converting atmospheric CO₂ and local waste into nutrient-rich, synthetic food. While it provided necessary sustenance, the food lacked the authenticity and taste of traditional agriculture—a luxury now reserved for the elite. The masses depended on engineered sustenance, their connection to the earth severed.

As AI advanced, traditional jobs vanished, leaving society adrift. The government introduced Universal Basic Income (UBI), promising freedom from the drudgery of work. Initially, people embraced this new freedom, enjoying the conveniences of an AI-driven life. However, the marketed "healthy" food subtly harmed their health, and without the structure of employment, discipline eroded. Laziness spread, illness became rampant, and mortality rates climbed as the environment continued to deteriorate.

Desperate to restore order, the government collaborated with multinational corporations to create fake jobs—positions that gave citizens a semblance of purpose but produced nothing of value. These pseudo-employments kept people busy while corporations profited from a controlled and manipulated workforce. Simultaneously, the government inflated the prices of daily necessities, rendering real work economically futile and deepening societal dependency.

With AI handling all productive tasks, people turned to virtual reality for engagement, working nocturnal shifts in digital realms to feel connected. This fragmented their lives, disrupting natural rhythms and fostering a sense of alienation. To cope with the harsh realities, companies developed advanced survival suits—high-tech garments that protected individuals from pollution and monitored their health. These suits became both lifelines and tools of control, ensuring constant surveillance and maintaining societal compliance.

Amara felt the weight of her existence pressing down. The skyscrapers, once symbols of progress, now felt like prisons adorned with false greenery. The Sustainable Food Synthesizer provided sustenance but disconnected her from the earth. The fake jobs offered purpose but were hollow reminders of a society that had lost its way. As she looked out over the city, a lingering sense of unease gnawed at her—something was terribly wrong beneath the surface of this controlled utopia.

[speculative-designs]

The Night Shift

In a world facing the brink of resource depletion and overpopulation, humanity sought unconventional solutions to survive. By the year 2100, cities had become vertical ecosystems, with skyscrapers draped in greenery and rooftop farms supplying fresh produce. Urban agriculture and greenification were no longer novelties but essential components of urban life.

Amidst this transformation, a groundbreaking technology emerged: the DreamShare, a subtle device placed behind the ear, enabling people to collaborate and work within their dreams. This innovation redefined work and income, turning sleep into a time of productivity. Nights became communal workspaces where ideas flourished beyond the constraints of the physical world.

In the dream realm, traditional barriers dissolved. People's avatars were fluid and abstract, reflecting inner identities rather than physical forms. This shift fostered true gender equality and acceptance of diverse gender and sexuality expressions. Without preconceived notions tied to physical appearance, collaboration was based purely on merit and creativity.

However, the reliance on dream work brought unforeseen changes to the human form. Physical activity during waking hours decreased significantly. Bodies became more delicate, with leaner physiques and paler complexions due to reduced exposure to sunlight. Enhanced cognitive functions led to subtle enlargements of the cranium, symbolizing increased brain activity and reliance on mental faculties over physical ones.

Fashion and accessories evolved accordingly. Clothing became unisex and focused on comfort, utilizing adaptive fabrics that adjusted to the body's needs. Wearable technology was seamlessly integrated, monitoring health and encouraging physical activity when awake.

Not everyone embraced this nocturnal shift. Many cherished the sanctity of personal dreams and the importance of rest without obligation. Debates arose about mental health impacts and the erosion of unstructured sleep. Communities began advocating for balance, proposing designated nights free from dream work to reconnect with oneself and promote well-being.

These discussions led to societal adjustments. Guidelines were established to limit dream work hours and encourage daytime physical activities. Urban spaces were redesigned to promote movement and social interaction, with parks and communal gardens becoming central to city life. The emphasis on urban agriculture not only addressed food scarcity but also provided opportunities for community engagement and physical labor.

By integrating technological advancement with a renewed focus on physical and mental health, humanity found a harmonious path forward. The human form adapted, reflecting a society that valued both mind and body. In balancing innovation with well-being, people rediscovered the importance of genuine human connection—not just in shared dreams but in the tangible world around them.

[speculative-designs]

Effects of war

Samir crouched in the rubble, clutching a small, tattered doll he’d found buried near the barracks—a strange, fragile thing in a world where softness had no place. War had hollowed out everything inside him, training him to be quick, obedient, and numb. They called him “Scout” because he was small and silent, slipping through broken buildings to scavenge for supplies, feeling nothing as he passed remnants of lives long destroyed.

Tonight, he found a book lying in the dust, its faded cover showing children running through fields. He stared at it, a strange ache stirring inside him. This doll, this book—they made him feel things he couldn’t afford, emotions that sharpened his loneliness and softened the numb armor he’d built around himself. As he looked at the doll’s worn face, memories of a world with laughter and safety crept into his mind, pressing on him until they felt unbearable.

Before he could stop himself, Samir crushed the doll in his hands, twisting it until it was nothing but scraps of fabric. He threw the pieces into the rubble, the ache dissolving into emptiness again. With a final glance at the book, he tore it apart too, scattering the pages in the wind. It was better this way, he told himself. Without these pieces of the past, he could stay hollow, stay strong, stay alive.

[speculative-designs]

Child War

Samir crouched in the rubble, clutching a small, tattered doll he’d found buried near the barracks—a rare, forbidden treasure in a world where childhood had no place. War had erased everything soft from his life, leaving only drills, orders, and the endless hum of drones overhead. They called him “Scout” because he was small and quick, slipping through bombed-out buildings to scavenge for supplies. Tonight, he found a book lying in the dust, its cover showing children running through green fields he’d never seen.

Back in camp, he hid the book and doll under his shirt, knowing the commanders would destroy them if they saw. Holding these small objects felt like a quiet rebellion, a reminder of something he couldn’t quite remember—a life with color, laughter, a world beyond the smoke and ruin. In the dark, he whispered to the doll, feeling, for a moment, like he was still a child.

[speculative-designs]

Sarota (Dystopia)

The sarota lay on the cold, metallic countertop of a sleek, windowless kitchen, its once-warm brass sheen dulled to a muted, industrial gray. In this world, food was synthetically produced, designed for efficiency rather than taste, and fresh nuts were rare relics of a bygone era. No one cracked nuts anymore; instead, pre-portioned nutrient pods were distributed weekly by the government, each one identical, tasteless, and optimized for survival. But the sarota remained, passed down quietly through generations, a strange and impractical object in a world stripped of its past.

Mira, a young girl who’d never seen a tree, much less a nut, held the sarota with fascination. Its unusual shape seemed almost rebellious amidst the standard-issue utensils in her home. She didn’t know its purpose—no one did anymore—but there was a feeling to it, a memory embedded in its heavy weight and worn edges, whispering of a time when life held rituals, and food had meaning. Her grandmother, now too old to speak much, watched her handle it and gave a faint, knowing smile. For just a moment, the two of them felt the warmth of another time, when small things were precious and tools like the sarota brought families together. But the government didn’t approve of “antique” items; they encouraged citizens to discard “obsolete objects,” calling them hazards to productivity and focus.

Mira knew that soon, this strange little object would have to be taken away and recycled, but for now, she held it tightly, as if by keeping it, she could preserve a lost memory that could not otherwise survive in this sterile, controlled world.