Issues
This human history expert says we’re wired to work, not relax – but here’s why it’s a good thing
Albert Steck talks to Hans-Joachim Voth
Isn’t it time to stop seeing work as a burden and start recognising its capacity to improve our lives and those of others? Journalist Albert Steck quizzes academic Hans-Joachim Voth about how meaningful labour can improve our wellbeing and why humans aren’t just designed for leisure.

We all wish for a sense of fulfilment in our lives – a topic that you’ve studied. So what’s the secret?
First, let me explain how we arrived at our conclusions. In the 1930s the US government compiled 1,500 biographies of ordinary people and stored them in an archive. With two colleagues, I analysed these fascinating life retrospectives. Our central question was: what mattered most to people?
And what was the answer?
The most important source of fulfilment was work and not primarily for financial security. It was about doing something meaningful, mastering tasks and receiving appreciation. Taking pride in one’s achievements, contributing to a greater whole and camaraderie were key.
What other factors were crucial?
Close family relationships and the individual’s role in their community, including contributions to their neighbourhood, city or associations that earned them social recognition.
Today work often has a bad reputation and is portrayed as a burden. But your study shows that no factor is more pivotal for happiness.
That’s right. The concept of a “work-life balance” assumes that happiness and your job are in opposition. It suggests that if I spend one more minute at work, that’s one less minute of “real life”. But the biographies that we analysed show that this dichotomy doesn’t really exist. It’s only by doing something meaningful that we find fulfilment.
That might be true for a doctor but does it also apply to a cashier, for example, or a factory worker?
Absolutely. That’s a key aspect of these stories. Across all social classes, the findings were almost identical. Regardless of gender, ethnicity or age, the factors for life satisfaction remained the same. I was especially impressed by the example of a librarian who took great pride in helping others by giving them access to certain books.
Satisfaction is subjective. Doesn’t that weaken the significance of your findings?
That is a valid point. Happiness is very moment-dependent. I feel good after a meal or napping but I can’t build a life plan around these things – no one should eat or sleep all day. These biographies are valuable because they offer a retrospective view. We can see which decisions and priorities were worthwhile and which weren’t.
How did you analyse the 1,500 biographies?
We used artificial-intelligence tools but ensured that they interpreted the texts in a similar way to people. Even human researchers reach slightly different conclusions when reading the same texts. AI is useful as long as its deviations are no greater than those between two people. We tested more than 15,000 samples to ensure that the AI provided reliable results.
What’s the main conclusion of your research? Does our society need to rediscover its love of work?
Today we vilify work and glorify leisure but that’s nonsensical. Your career is far more than just a means of earning money to pay for fun in your free time. Consider what happens when people lose their jobs: unemployment insurance might cushion their loss of income but their sense of life satisfaction drops significantly. It’s because work contributes greatly to their personal fulfilment.
Even when the work is hard?
Work rarely brings the same kind of pleasure as a theme park and some people in the biographies that we analysed didn’t enjoy their jobs – for example, a butcher in an industrial slaughterhouse. But humans aren’t built for constant entertainment. I agree with French writer and philosopher Albert Camus, who said that we should think of Sisyphus as a happy man. Even difficult work allows us to use and improve our abilities, build relationships and take pride in our achievements.
Switzerland’s Social Democratic Party wants to limit the working week to 38 hours over four and a half days. Do you see this as progress?
No, because it conveys the idea that work is hostile. And economically it would be harmful. Furthermore, if we reduce work hours too much, people won’t be able to fully develop their skills. To become an expert in something, you need time – roughly the well-known 10,000 hours.

A common argument for reducing working hours is to tackle rising stress.
That’s a valid concern. Not everyone handles stress in the same way. Still, society is going in the wrong direction by constantly complaining about it. Tackling professional challenges is a positive experience. It teaches us to achieve ambitious goals. An athlete at the start of a 100-metre race feels a rush of adrenaline.
The trend towards a leisure society is ill-timed. As a result of demographic changes, we lack workers and shorter hours will only make the problem worse.
Yes, and then there’s the harmful “age guillotine” of retirement. It’s pointless to automatically exclude capable older people from the workforce. The idea that the retirement of a 65-year-old creates a job for a younger person is false. This isn’t a zero-sum game. Every working person creates more work for others. Plus, tax revenues increase.
Yet many people oppose raising the retirement age. In France, for example, protests erupted when reforms were attempted in 2023.
Politics has created false expectations. People think, “I paid into the system so I’m entitled to retire at 62.” When the retirement age increases, people feel as though something is being taken from them. Work then feels like a punishment. But in truth, it’s a privilege to be needed and contribute to society.
With longer life expectancies and delayed entry into the workforce, is a shorter working life a waste of valuable human capital?
Exactly. We strive to treat resources sustainably but waste vast amounts of human capital in the labour market. Tax systems contribute to this by failing to reward work sufficiently. Highly educated people often work less to save on taxes.
What can be done to make work more attractive again?
Two things, which are especially relevant to Switzerland: first, focus on the apprenticeship system, which introduces young people to the working world early. People who study until 30 often struggle to transition into working life. They’ve never been inside a company and see the work environment as hostile.
And the second thing?
We must value all kinds of work. If there is a deep divide between “educated elites” and less formally trained workers, it destroys social cohesion. In Switzerland, even unskilled workers can earn a decent income without having to rely on government aid. A heavy dependence on the state, as in many European countries, undermines people’s motivation for individual responsibility.
About the writer:
Hans-Joachim Voth is the scientific director of the UBS Center for Economics in Society. This interview by Albert Steck was first published in the Neue Zürcher Zeitung and was translated by Monocle.
Ditch the treadmill and take this happiness prescription to extend your life
A Swedish professor of internal medicine and endocrinology, Fredrik Nyström is a firm believer in the notion that happiness can extend your life. Can a walk through a forest with a canine companion or quality time spent working on your car’s engine really make you healthier than someone who spends endless hours in the gym? It’s a controversial theory but he is determined to spread the good news.

How would you describe your philosophy?
Do what makes you happy because that feeling will ultimately make you healthier. In recent years, various studies have tracked people who are at roughly the same level of health – taking into account their body weight, their risk of cardiovascular disease and so on. And they show that those who simply say that they are happy really do live longer and with fewer complications compared to those who don’t have that belief.
This is an important finding. It means that you should sometimes allow yourself that extra bit of chocolate because if taking a bite out of the bar gives you a sense of contentment, that could translate into something that makes you healthier. You can see evidence for this in the obesity paradox: when you compare the mortality rate of people who are overweight or slightly obese to that of skinny people, you see that those in the former camp tend to live longer. It has to do with allowing yourself time to enjoy life – to bask in the sun, have a treat and drink wine. People tend to diminish their happiness by denying themselves the pleasures that are out there. That lowers the quality and length of their lives.
You have a reputation for going against conventional wisdom and the positions of other doctors. Tell us about what surprises – and annoys – people most about your research.
It’s probably when I mention that a moderate amount of alcohol is actually good for us. I am certain that this is true. Let’s start with the fact that drinking red wine with the evening meal is a fundamental part of the Mediterranean diet, which is the only diet that has been shown to reduce cardiovascular disease in a randomised trial (even when compared with a low-fat, alcohol-free diet). I have also shown through a randomised trial that cholesterol is lower among people who drink one or two glasses of wine every day for three months than among teetotallers. There is evidence that wine can substantially reduce glucose and blood pressure too. So I don’t think that it’s strange at all if drinking one or two glasses of wine ends up giving you a lower risk of something such as a microinfarct [a microscopic stroke].
It annoys the Swedish government quite a lot when I say this. These days the authorities tend to claim that no amount of alcohol is good for you. Members of the public get annoyed by this too. Let’s just say that there’s an ongoing debate but at least some people are listening to me.
That’s definitely good news for those of us who enjoy a glass of wine in the evening. What about exercise?
Everything in moderation: recent trials have clearly shown that there is a link between running too fast and atrial fibrillation [abnormal heart rhythm] in older people. There are also signs that you can do serious damage to your hips and knees.
Walking, on the other hand, is something that I really believe in. Lots of people track their steps and there’s nothing wrong with that. Walking to get steps seems like a good idea and I do it myself. But even better is the act of walking somewhere beautiful. Here in Sweden, we have forests that are freely accessible to anyone and it is very pleasurable to walk in them. And it’s the best when you’re with a dog. You have good company and can also let it run freely – so both you and your pet can gain happiness from the experience.
So it’s not so much the distance covered as the attempt to find small moments of happiness that matters?
Yes – well, at least moments of being content. Happiness is a strong word. I’m over 60 years old now and if you feel happiness even for a second at my age, you should feel extremely grateful for that.
If you think that something is beautiful and it makes you feel better, you should try to thrive off those moments as much as you can. For example, it’s usually very cold in Sweden, so I try to savour the few opportunities that I have for sun here.
I live outside a city with a view of a lake so it’s fantastic. Late spring, just when the summer is about to begin, is so beautiful, with different variants of green all over the place and birds singing full-throatedly. I try to take advantage of all of that. For people in northern countries, it’s all about making your own vitamin D.

That’s your age cohort sorted. What about the younger generations?
I have three children, who were born in the 1990s and 2000s. And I understand that they are the first generation that will be in worse health than their parents’ generations in roughly a century. It’s very sad and also totally unnecessary. The media has a hand to play in this, because all that we ever hear are reports about various crises.
It is rare to hear positive news – and there is a lot of it, from improvements in healthcare to the generational shift against smoking and pollution disappearing from our cities. There are plenty of things moving in the right direction. People just don’t realise that all of this is happening and they don’t talk about it enough.
What I try to pass on to my kids is a love of nature – and that it isn’t healthy to spend so much time on Tiktok or Youtube. That doesn’t make anyone happy. Take Sweden: it’s a fantastic country to wander around in and explore. This summer, my children are trying to master quite a large boat and they plan to sail over to an island in the Baltic Sea. It’ll be a challenge because of the waves, the lack of mobile signal and the risk that the winds from the west will push the boat off course. If that happens, they’ll end up in Estonia. But it’s an opportunity to enjoy nature and be free of their phones.
To sum up, then: you think that general activity rather than stringent gym sessions, marathons or structured high-intensity exercise is key?
Yes. Manual work is extremely important to me. I have built three houses with my own hands and rebuilt the engine of my second car from scratch several times. It relaxes me – and is the reason that I hate electric cars. I recommend having a hobby – anything other than just looking at your phone. For example, my wife has recently taken up pottery and my children are taking music lessons. It takes your mind off the tough things. Driving boats, mowing the lawn, walking the dog, planting flowers – these things make you content. I have so many colleagues in academia who are depressed from sitting around all day. You need an escape route. Go and fix your car.
Fredrik Nyström is a professor of internal medicine and endocrinology at Linköping University in Sweden. His book Lighten the Load on Your Shoulders! is published by Lava.
Hold on! Beltways are putting the world’s fastest travelator on trial
The moving walkway has long been a fringe fascination in the world of mobility. Science-fiction writers from Isaac Asimov to Robert A Heinlein imagined future cities bristling with speedy pedestrian conveyors but the technology hasn’t quite lived up to its potential. Now a US start-up called Beltways hopes to change this. In early 2026 the firm will hold a public trial at Cincinnati & Northern Kentucky International Airport (CVG) to deploy what it claims will be the world’s fastest moving walkway, capable of whisking standing users at a top speed of 16km/h. (Current travelators putter along at a maximum of 3km/h.)


“Transit is only useful if it’s faster than walking,” says John Yuksel, who co-founded Beltways with his brother, Matine, and envisions his “accelerator” walkways as a last-mile system pulsing through places such as New York’s Times Square. The siblings left jobs in Silicon Valley to start the company and are bringing to fruition an idea first envisioned by their father, Edip, when he was an engineering student at Turkey’s METU university. Edip drew up plans for a modular walkway system that could cut through traffic-choked Istanbul. Previous attempts at faster walkways – the trottoir roulant deployed by Paris’s metro agency more than 20 years ago or Thyssenkrupp’s Accel system, used in Toronto’s Pearson Airport – ultimately ran aground, largely due to mechanical and financial problems.
The first moving walkway was set up at the World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago in 1893, then a revised version by the same architect, Joseph Lyman Silsbee, featured at Paris’s Exposition Universelle in 1900. More than a century later, the “street of the future” might be about to arrive, and quicker, than you think.
Comment
Moving walkways can make urban spaces more walkable, efficient and sustainable. We’d be delighted to hop on.
The hidden threat to Europe’s defence is its own broken bridges and red tape
Mobility matters to continental security and inertia can be lethal. As states enforce different weight limits on their roads, tanks can grind to a halt at border crossings, diplomats and logistics officers can scramble for permits and customs clearances can take weeks to process. This tangled web of red tape neutralises any advantage Europe’s armies might hope to gain over a single-country adversary.
In the event of war, the ability to deploy troops and material swiftly across Europe is by no means a given when infrastructure and transport networks are in such a shoddy condition. A 2025 report from the European Court of Auditors found that it could take up to 45 days to secure permission to move equipment across the bloc’s borders. While it’s unlikely that an EU member state would prevent another from doing so, the existence of this bureaucracy speaks to a strategic paralysis at the heart of European military planning.
Equally disheartening is the state of the continent’s crumbling infrastructure. Many European bridges lack the strength to carry modern battle tanks. Germany has acknowledged the problem. What is worse, its central location means that its ageing roads and tunnels pose risks not only to national defence but to the continent as a whole. Until Germany’s many key bridges are made kriegstauglich (“fit for war”), armoured columns responding to an attack on the EU’s eastern flank might have to detour hundreds of kilometres in search of viable crossings. Part of Friedrich Merz’s relaxing of Germany’s debt break was to allow €500bn to be invested in upgrading the country’s infrastructure over the next 12 years. But these things take time – time we have to hope that Europe has.

Weak bridges expose a deeper paradox in Europe’s deterrence posture. Nato’s doctrine of “deterrence by reinforcement” rests on the premise that forces can flow rapidly to areas that are under threat, with backup arriving faster than an adversary can react. But how can Europe credibly promise that if its roads buckle under the vehicles that it needs in combat? At June’s Nato Summit in The Hague, allied states agreed that 1.5 per cent of the newly adopted 5 per cent defence-spend formula would count towards infrastructure upgrades – an important step but only the first.
The EU is not blind to this challenge. In 2018, it launched its first Action Plan on Military Mobility, pledging to try and harmonise cross-border procedures and invest in dual-use projects serving civilian and military needs. After Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, a second plan in 2022 prioritised reinforcing some railway bridges, widening tunnels and expanding ports. This said, the European Investment Bank estimates a significant shortfall in transport-infrastructure funding.
In March 2025, the EU’s defence and space commissioner, Andrius Kubilius, warned that at least €70bn will be needed to transform rail, road, sea and air corridors into a genuine “military Schengen”. At the same time, the bloc’s chief diplomat, Kaja Kallas, has, alongside Kubilius, pledged a comprehensive legal review to simplify and streamline procedures by the end of this year. Military mobility has also become a flagship area of EU–Nato co-operation.
But challenges remain. Underinvestment in critical corridors such as north-south links across Central and Eastern Europe undermine strategic depth. Plus, states are often reluctant to upgrade border-region infrastructure that chiefly benefits neighbours. Harmonising procedures across 27 sovereign systems demands political will that is fast outpacing implementation.
Europe can’t let these unglamorous roadblocks and strategic speed bumps linger. Military mobility isn’t an optional extra, it is the backbone of a credible defence.
In the UAE, flying taxis will soon be a reality
Zipping silently home from the airport in a sleek electric aircraft above the gridlock and noise sounds wonderful – and Dubai’s “flying taxis” are slated to make this a reality early next year, with four key points in the city earmarked as launchpads.
November’s Dubai Airshow is a clear signal of intent. A dedicated pavilion for clunkily named eVTOLs (electric vertical take-off and landing aircraft) will see companies such as Joby and Archer showcase models that they claim could be airborne and commercially operative by 2026. “We’ve expanded the show by 8,000 square metres,” Dubai Airports CEO, Paul Griffiths, tells Monocle. “A number of eVTOL firms are planning to fly their aircraft publicly for the first time. It’ll be tremendously exciting.”
Dubai has completed test flights and has plans to launch its first commercial air-taxi routes next year, linking four vertiports at Dubai International Airport, Downtown, the Marina and Palm Jumeirah. In Abu Dhabi, meanwhile, US-based Archer Aviation is to introduce its Midnight aircraft, capable of flying four passengers. It’s aiming to cut the tricky Abu Dhabi-Dubai journey from 90 minutes by road to a mere 20 minutes in the sky.

“The technology is ready now,” says Archer CEO Adam Goldstein. “Tesla led a revolution in battery tech that’s made its way into aviation. Governments are working with industry to shape standards and real capital is coming in.”
But why here, and not in Archer’s home market of the US? “Everyone in the UAE said, ‘We want to make this happen,’” says Goldstein. “It’s more agile and ambitious. From the Abu Dhabi Investment Office to Mubadala and Etihad, the alignment is unique – and it’s our gateway to the Gulf, India and the rest of Asia.”
There’s also the fact that such innovation couldn’t work elsewhere (yet). Imagine trying to land an eVTOL in Manhattan or London, where airspace is crowded, infrastructure outdated and regulators rightly cautious. Add in noise complaints, rooftop logistics, the danger of crashes and decades of urban planning designed specifically not to accommodate flying vehicles, and the whole thing starts to look absurdly far away. In cities where the average building permit takes months to secure, the idea of regular rooftop landings feels fanciful at best.
By contrast, the UAE has space, capital, a centralised system that accelerates decision-making and even favourable weather. Crucially it has the ambition, spurred on by a friendly but fervent rivalry between Dubai and Abu Dhabi that has already delivered competing museums, megaprojects and cultural districts. Flying taxis, it seems, are the next prize.
“This is just version 1.0,” says Griffiths. “Once we get greater endurance and payloads, you won’t need roads or traffic lights. You’ll simply fly.”
Inzamam Rashid is Monocle’s Dubai-based Gulf correspondent.
Monocle Radio’s The Entrepreneurs recently discussed flying taxis with Archer Aviation’s CEO – listen below:
How driverless taxis and remote-controlled cars have shifted into Estonia’s fast lane
Auve Tech: Autonomous last-mile shuttles
“These shuttles are essential for getting more people to use public transport,” says Silver Kalve, Auve Tech’s vice president of business development. The firm’s MiCa 2.0 shuttle – a fully electric, low-speed vehicle – eliminates the need for a driver. The cars use lidar (laser-based range detection) and camera fusion combined with AI to identify objects and predict where they will move next. The firm itself has plans to make moves globally, and the fleet is now operating on four continents and road legal in 15 countries. “Estonia has an innovation-driven mindset, along with a very strong digital society,” Kalve tells Monocle. “Autonomous vehicles were allowed on our roads as early as 2017.”

Bolt: Driverless taxis
Operating in 51 countries and with a €2bn annual revenue last year, ride-hailing company Bolt is planning to integrate autonomous vehicles into its platform by 2026. “We see long-term potential,” says Jevgeni Kabanov, Bolt’s president and head of their autonomous vehicle workstream. “[Though] still in their infancy, autonomous vehicles are going to transform how people live and move around cities.” Kabanov is convinced that Estonia’s digital-first attitude makes it a “natural hub for innovation.” But he is also mindful of how the shift to driverless cars might affect Bolt’s drivers. “They’re the backbone of our platform and power local economies.”
Elmo: For a car that’s roadworthy and remote-controlled
The firm behind the world’s first road-legal tele-driving technology, achieved a breakthrough in 2024 with its AI-powered SOS braking system. Remote-driven vehicles can now operate without a safety driver at higher speeds and no area restrictions. Launched in Estonia and Finland, Elmo’s technology is now operating on public roads in cities including Paris, Amsterdam and Los Angeles. A practical alternative to fully autonomous vehicles with lower hardware and deployment costs.
Read next: Why small electric vehicles are making a big impression in Cuba
How Gabriel Chipperfield saved a London street
Gabriel Chipperfield feels more at home running his property firm, Wendover Partners, than in the world of hospitality. But when the son of Pritzker prize-winning architect David took over the development of London’s Lancaster Gate Hotel in 2022 and began transforming it into flats, he felt that the surrounding area could also do with some help. “Bayswater is well located but underappreciated,” says Chipperfield. “It has some of London’s best period architecture.”
That’s why he started Foreign Exchange News, a bureau de change-cum-newsagent and café. “The money traders didn’t want to move out so we fused the concepts,” he says. Sol’s, a Spanish wine bar and deli, soon followed. When Monocle visits, diners are feasting on padrón peppers and croquetas, and clinking glasses of albariño. “A local resident told us that she had taken her house off the market since we opened Sol’s,” says Chipperfield, who has now taken over the premises next door to create Sol’s Sister, a florist and events space.
“We have had requests to create comparable ‘concepts’ in New York, Doha, Adelaide and Miami,” says the property developer of the now-humming high street. “But what we have achieved in Bayswater wasn’t about creating something that’s replicable.” Instead, he wants to revive the liveable neighbourhood where he grew up. “We should probably create a dry cleaner’s or a convenience shop next.”
sols.london; solssister.com





Read next: The Monocle City Guide to London, featuring the best hotels, restaurants and retail spots in the UK capital
What the Paris Air Show tells us about the future of flight
The deadly crash of an Air India Boeing 787 Dreamliner in Ahmedabad on 12 June – just days before this year’s Paris Air Show – ensures that the mood at Le Bourget on the opening morning is at odds with the sunny weather. Since Boeing’s CEO, Kelly Ortberg, cancelled his plans to attend and the corporation ruled out making any business announcements, attendees know that the event won’t be dominated – as it usually is – by the competition between the US manufacturer and its main European rival, Airbus. With that arm-wrestle momentarily paused, what are the great and the good at Le Bourget going to talk about this year?

As always with big commercial fairs, it helps to follow the money. With major geopolitical turbulence buffeting Europe, a huge rearmament effort is releasing a lot of money into the aviation sector. Indeed, pride of place on the tarmac has been reserved for two military planes – an Airbus A400M Atlas and Dassault Aviation’s iconic Rafale fighter jet – and some parts of the fair feel like an air-force base. Officers sporting aviators move among sprawling stands devoted to drones, missiles and radar systems, which wouldn’t have had such prime real estate a few years ago. Here’s what else is being discussed above the din of roaring jets.
Unmanned aerial vehicles
The threat and opportunity of uavs and drones hover over most conversations at the air show. “A €100 toy can now destroy a €100m aircraft,” as a European air-force officer tells Monocle. That cost-benefit analysis is reshaping procurement strategy. Drone swarms have already been tested as defensive shields for fighter jets – and are, if conversations here are to be believed, likely to become a standard operating procedure across the world’s air forces. Even as militaries scramble to adapt to the game-changing warfare being pioneered on the battlefields and in the skies above Ukraine, UAV technology is changing. “Ten years ago, we couldn’t detect anything slower than 50 metres per second,” says Eric Huber, Thales’s vice-president for surface radar. “Now we can see targets at 10 metres per second.” His company’s Ground Fire 300 radar tracks up to 1,000 simultaneous targets – an indication of how big drone swarms are expected to become.

During a Strategic Aerospace Seminar at the Hôtel de Bourrienne,Taras Wankewycz, the CEO of hydrogen start-up H3 Dynamics, argues that hydrogen-powered UAVs will redefine our understanding of stealth and endurance. “Electric UAVs are quiet and low signature but battery limited,” he says. “Hydrogen expands range dramatically.” Wankewycz tells Monocle that mobile units enabling liquid-hydrogen UAV supply will be a battlefield reality in the near future. Big players such as Airbus and Lockheed Martin are now pushing into unmanned systems, either through in-house development or strategic acquisitions. Yet many significant advances seem to be coming from software firms such as Helsing, which are marrying rapid deployment hardware with AI to speed up decision-making and co-ordination.
What was once a novelty is now a necessity. The organisers of this year’s show invited more than 100 start-ups to present what they are working on in a dedicated space. Many, such as France’s Aerix, are developing “dual-use” technologies for defence and civilian needs – from medicine deliveries and pipeline inspections to flying taxis. In the civilian space, there are still a lot of questions about regulation: how can drones and traditional aircraft share airspace safely? To what extent will authorities allow the buzz of delivery drones overhead to pervade urban life? One thing is clear: unmanned aviation, military and civil, isn’t on its way – it has already landed.




Manufacturing
With Boeing less present, Airbus is dominating the backrooms: the European giant has taken off with almost $20bn (€17bn) in deals, including prominent contracts with Saudi Arabian players such as Riyadh Air. But there are signs that the traditional duopoly is broadening as the Airbus-Boeing duel gives way to a more fragmented and dynamic landscape.
Brazil’s Embraer, already a leader in the regional jet space, is making headlines with its urban air-mobility arm, Eve, which has inked a $250m (€217m) deal for 50 Evtols (electric vertical take-off and landing aircrafts) with São Paulo-based Revo. China’s Comac C919 narrow-body jet – which has been flying over the People’s Republic since 2023 but is absent from Paris due to its lack of European certification – is courting Southeast Asian operators and quietly positioning itself as a viable third force. When it is certified in the next few years by European regulators, it could become a major player in the West, given the aircraft shortage that continues to blight the civilian flight industry. According to McKinsey, just 7,000 aircraft were delivered globally from 2019 to 2024, 5,000 fewer than projected before the pandemic. As a result of supply chain snarls, labour shortages and material delays, manufacturers and their suppliers are under immense pressure to catch up. This lag benefits leasing companies (rates for the 737 Max 8, for example, have soared by nearly 60 per cent since 2021) but hampers airline expansion.
Complaints from carriers, such as Air France, that European regulations are putting them at a structural disadvantage against state-backed competitors – combined with the fallout from transatlantic tariffs and geopolitical tensions – mean that it’s likely that governments will increasingly offer to prop up their national flag carriers when it comes to manufacturing and procurement. France has floated incentives to reshore aerospace production, while India and the UAE are tying purchases to local assembly deals, further complicating the equation for manufacturers that are duty-bound to ensure consistent production standards.
Monocle swings by the invitation-only Strategic Aerospace Seminar on the sidelines of the show, organised by Belgian think tank Premier Cercle. Here, one industry analyst tells us that commercial traffic will continue to grow by up to 5 per cent a year for the foreseeable future. With Nato countries ramping up defence spending, orders for commercial and military aircraft will rise – so building faster and delivering more reliably presents a big opportunity for anyone who can take advantage of this. But, as ever, a single weak link in the supply chain or safety concern can hold up the delivery of an entire aircraft. Nurturing the vast ecosystem of suppliers on which manufacturers rely is crucial, as going it alone is not an option – even for the giants.


Civil aviation
Airbus’s sale of 25 A350-1000s to Riyadh Air, a Saudi airline that hasn’t even flown yet, shows both industry-wide confidence in air travel and continued state support for the sector in the Gulf region. At this year’s event, Qatar Airways has been named the Skytrax World’s Best Airline for the ninth time. Emirates has come fourth this year; it has won the award four times since the inception of the prize in 2001. That’s a lot of visibility and prestige for two countries with a combined population of just 14 million. Saudi Arabia is looking to emulate their success at establishing brands that are admired for the quality of their service.
Meanwhile, low-cost carriers continue to gain ground across the globe (a notable exception is North America), creating a market that’s polarised between premium and budget experiences. “I wouldn’t be surprised if aviation ends up like fashion, dominated by low-cost carriers on one end and luxury brands on the other,” one industry insider tells Monocle at the Aéroports de Paris chalet.
Besides the shifting business models reshaping the carrier landscape, the future of civil aviation largely depends on logistical advances. Airspace is overcrowded, ground staff are overwhelmed and airport logistics are strained, as evidenced by the travel chaos in Europe this summer. Meanwhile, newer, lighter aircraft, such as the Airbus A321 XLR, are capable of bypassing traditional hubs, so airports will need to expand or adapt to increasingly crowded operating conditions. On top of congestion and less predictable weather due to climate change, conflict in the Middle East and Ukraine is restricting the available airspace. It all adds up, leading to lengthy delays, frustrating customers and costing airlines almost €90 per minute.


Alternative fuels
In a year dominated by big guns, the lower profile, less headline-grabbing booths dedicated to clean technology can be easy to overlook. Perhaps that belies a lack of momentum in sustainable aviation fuels (SAFs), even though EU mandates, which came into effect in January, impose minimum quotas for the use of sustainable fuels. The atmosphere is sluggish. With that deadline looming and lofty 2050 objectives of carbon neutrality still in place, both availability and the cost of SAFs remain a challenge. SAFs made by recycling food or agricultural and forestry waste can be used as a like-for-like replacement for kerosene (the primary ingredient in jet fuel) while producing up to 80 per cent less carbon emissions. That transition, if it happens, will make a significant dent in the aviation industry’s 2.5 per cent share of global emissions.
Production of SAFs doubled between 2023 and 2024 and is expected to double again by the end of 2025 but the International Air Transport Association has dubbed global progress in replacing fossil fuels as “disappointingly slow”. At fault is the continued abundance of fossil-fuel subsidies, as well as worldwide backtracking on sustainability goals, led by a shift in US policy.
With airline profit margins already razor-thin, few want to spend extra cash on greener fuel without government support. Partnerships between the public and private sector will be crucial in the SAF transition. Given the current economic and geopolitical headwinds, this doesn’t seem likely to be a top priority in a world of conflicts and tariffs.
Kevin Noertker, co-founder of Ampaire, isn’t making promises about net-zero moonshots. He’s starting small, with a combustion engine conversion that turns engines for Cessna Grand Caravans into efficient hybrid propulsion systems that cut fuel use by 50 per cent. “Like the Prius did for cars, they eliminate range anxiety, work with current infrastructure and are available now,” he tells Monocle. The solution that he is developing could eventually encompass passenger-jet engines but clearing regulatory hurdles and convincing the risk-averse to gamble on new technology will take time and effort. As long as SAFs still cost between three to ten times more than conventional fuel, it’ll remain a matter of baby steps where giant leaps are needed.



Space
While an F-35 roars overhead and commercial- aircraft deals are being struck below, there’s a quieter kind of aerospace ambition at the air show’s space pavilion. Monocle spots France’s prime minister, François Bayrou, making a hushed visit to the ArianeGroupe stand. Government efforts to reach and navigate space are nothing new but the interest in it as a place to do business is. “Satellites used to weigh 10 tonnes and cost $500m [€438m] to launch into orbit,” says Stanislas Maximin, a co-founder of the Reims-based rocket company Latitude. “New small satellites now cost less than €1m, so we’re seeing massive growth in launches.”
According to a recent report by Goldman Sachs, the satellite market could grow from $15bn (€13bn) today to $460bn (€400bn) in the next decade, with 70,000 low-Earth-orbit launches expected in the next five years. Latitude builds rockets for small satellite launches that Maximin promises are the cheapest on the market. “We just need a concrete slab and electricity,” he says. “Everything else – launchpad, rocket, even facilities – we can bring ourselves.”The main target market? Not governments or their armed forces but commercial clients. “It’s all about data,” says Maximin. “How do we understand our planet better? How do we build services that enable us to track containers or detect tanks?”
With generous public funding, home grown engineers and access to a world-class spaceport in French Guyana, France’s space start-ups are well placed. Latitude’s goal is to work up to 50 launches a year but early failures are expected, including at its first rocket launch, scheduled for the end of 2026. “I just hope that we don’t blow up the $4m [€3.5m] launchpad,” says Maximin with a laugh. As satellites become more accessible, space will become a marketplace – bringing with it unglamorous cargo, including regulation, waste-management procedures and maintenance headaches. Such things have yet to bring entrepreneurs back down to Earth and the optimism here is stratospheric.

Can this Cold War-era train revive the romance of rail travel?
In the Cold War’s great game of global prestige and influence, East Germany’s most mobile ambassador didn’t carry a passport – it carried people. Unveiled in 1963, the VT 18.16, later known as the SVT Görlitz, was the GDR’s answer to the West’s glamorous trains. A sleek, diesel-powered bullet of beige metal and burgundy, it transported party delegates, foreign dignitaries and business travellers from Berlin to Prague, Copenhagen and Vienna at a stately 120km/h. Inside were beech-veneer panels, deep-blue upholstery and rotatable seats modelled after those in a jetliner.
The SVT Görlitz was built not merely to move passengers but to stage a performance of modernity. That it was reservation-only – almost unheard of at the time – only burnished its brand. “Boarding the train felt like stepping into another world,” says Matthias Hebenstreit, who was just 18 years old when he took his first and only journey aboard it during a work trip. “It was like catching a glimpse of the future.”

Dubbed a “diplomat on wheels”, the SVT Görlitz offered a rare corridor between East and West. By the late 1970s, however, railcars were falling out of favour and the train was gradually withdrawn from service. Of the original eight, only three survived reunification. One sat mothballed for years in Nuremberg at the museum of national rail network Deutsche Bahn (DB), lacking a working engine or brakes.
It is this SVT Görlitz that is finally getting back on track. In a hangar in Halberstadt, a town in the state of Saxony-Anhalt, a team of railway enthusiasts and engineers is painstakingly restoring one to its former glory with the aim of resuming a service within Germany next year. “Getting a high-speed train such as this back on the rails is a way of making a legacy visible again,” says Mario Lieb, who is leading the effort.
More than 70 volunteers – mechanics, electricians, upholsterers, administrators and planners – have spent the past six years sourcing parts, stripping paint, replacing windows and reinstating fixtures with forensic attention to detail. Among them is Andreas Haufe, who oversees operations planning for the train’s return to the rails. A driver with DB in Dresden, he’s responsible for staff co-ordination, training and regulatory oversight – a wide-ranging role that reflects his personal commitment to the project. “For DB, I drive modern trains to Berlin, Hamburg and Rostock,” he says. “But this one is different.” Born into a railway family, Haufe was four years old when his uncle, one of the SVT Görlitz’s last certified drivers, brought him along on a refuelling run between Dresden Neustadt and Altstadt. “I still remember the sound, the atmosphere,” he says. “For me, it’s the most elegant train ever built in Germany.”


Of the €7m restoration budget, €5m came from public funds. The project aligned neatly with talk in Berlin of reviving the network’s international rail express routes. The restoration also happens to coincide with a moment when DB – beset by persistent delays, last-minute cancellations and overcrowded trains – is seeking to repair its battered image. Just 62.5 per cent of German long-distance trains arrived on time last year and the public’s patience is wearing thin. Patrick Schnieder, the transport minister, recently said that the state of the railways had become a national barometer. “People feel that things no longer function in the way that they should,” he told the German Press Agency. “That’s not just seen as a failure of infrastructure. It’s perceived as something more fundamental.”
Berlin-based revenue analyst Jessica Neumann joined the restoration as a volunteer, signing up as a photographer for the project. “It’s amazing how many people have a personal connection to this train,” she says. One couple wrote to say that they met in the SVT Görlitz’s dining car on a journey to Karlovy Vary in the 1970s. They struck up a conversation, fell in love and eventually married. Decades later, they hope to take that journey again.
Wherever possible, the restoration work is done in-house. “We have people here with a great deal of expertise,” says Lieb. But restoring the SVT Görlitz requires not just technical skill but an eye for nuance. “There was no unified interior across the eight trains,” he adds. “They were built in four batches, two units each, and there were notable differences in detail.” The team approached what remained with archival precision. Swivel seats, originally clad in grey-brown corduroy, were reupholstered in deep red with black side accents. The pattern of the dining-car curtains was faithfully reproduced. And the lighting? “The worn-out lamps had been replaced with pressed-glass fixtures,” says Lieb. “We had new ones produced by a local lighting maker, closely modelled on the originals.”



All of the fabrics now meet modern fire regulations and hidden systems such as toilet technology and door locking have been discreetly introduced to meet cross-border standards. Other aspects needed no improvement. “There was hot and cold running water on board already,” says Lieb. While the exterior, originally developed by Berlin-based architect Hans Gutheil, was leaner and sleeker than the more bulbous silhouettes emerging from West Germany, the interior was far more restrained. The aesthetic nodded subtly to Bauhaus principles, especially in the dining car, right down to the decorative end panels. “Of course, they had to work with what was available,” says Lieb. “But they still made something elegant.”
Though the SVT Görlitz emerged from a combination of constraint and ingenuity, the railway itself would soon face a very different challenge. After the fall of the Berlin Wall, the newly unified train network was less a public service than a profit-driven enterprise. “The early years were genuinely positive,” says Christian Böttger, a professor at Berlin’s University of Applied Sciences for Engineering and Economics, and an expert on Germany’s railways. He explains that as passenger numbers grew and freight volumes increased, new high-speed routes helped to make the national railway company a respected enterprise.



While the DB remains a pillar of German mobility, the emotional contract that it once held with the public has quietly lapsed. The railway still moves people but not, perhaps, in quite the same way as before. What’s missing isn’t just modern infrastructure or newer trains, even though the federal cabinet has just approved a €107bn support package. It’s more a sense that the railways belong to everyone.
That spirit, say the restorers, is embodied in the SVT Görlitz. If all goes according to plan and the train returns to the rails in 2026, there will be space for 238 passengers to come aboard, plus 23 in the dining car. “We even have a chef,” says Lieb. For some, the journey to Prague will be a sentimental one. For others, it might offer a glimpse of how rail travel once looked, sounded and felt, when it carried a sense of purpose and promise.
svt-goerlitz.de
Monocle comment
Focusing on function alone will only ever get you so far in the world of mobility. One reason why this train (and any worthwhile travel experience) lives long in the memory is that it embodies an idea missing from most providers today: generosity. It might sound idealistic – even improbable, given the degradation of the lower ends of train and plane travel – but zipping between cities or stops should be enjoyable. More often than not, this means natural materials, good low lighting, some soundproofing and sturdy construction. And what about some fun too? The odd plush finish – such as this deep-red upholstery – is a reminder that a little drama in our designs can go a long way.
Why global eyes are on South Africa’s next design stars
“Cape Town is such a vibrant city that it makes you want to create,” says Megan Hesse, co-founder of Anatomy Design, an interiors and product studio that recently opened a lofty new showroom in the De Waterkant neighbourhood. Hesse started her business with her partner in Johannesburg but later moved to Cape Town to tap into the latter’s booming creative scene. South Africa’s second-biggest city is a rapidly growing design capital where it’s getting easier to do business. This is thanks, in part, to a robust economy, which is expected to grow by 1.8 per cent in 2025 (outpacing the country’s forecast 1.3 per cent), with €304m in investment and more than 15,000 jobs directly created in 2024 by business initiatives, which support a host of sectors that include the creative economy.
This creative scene is building on solid foundations. It has hosted Design Indaba, an annual global conference that has attracted the likes of Tom Dixon and Milton Glaser since 1995. Cape Town Art Fair launched in 2013 and, a year later, the city was named the World Design Capital, stirring even more interest. “Cape Town has always had a very active, healthy design and creative scene,” says Gareth Pearson, who along with his partner Aimée Pearson co-founded Cape Town Furniture Week in 2023. The event grew from 80 exhibitors in its inaugural year to nearly 100 in 2025. “Cape Town is definitely having a moment,” says Aimée. “There’s an influx of like-minded people, as well as resources.”
Importantly, the city hasn’t just captured aesthetes and design-minded transplants looking for a permanent move but also tourism dollars. The city’s population is growing steadily; between 2020 and the end of 2025, it will have gained about 400,000 new residents.
“There is a lot of international traffic here,” says Chuma Maweni, a designer who creates functional ceramic pieces such as intricate chairs, mirrors and tables. Maweni, who works with the influential Southern Guild gallery (which has an outpost in Los Angeles), moved from the neighbouring Eastern Cape province to Cape Town in 2006. “The Western Cape has better opportunities and more art enthusiasts,” he says.



In terms of tourism, the first quarter of 2024 saw a 16 per cent increase in tourist arrivals via air travel, amounting to 336,000 visitors. This rising interest is stoking confidence in creatives and even impacting their work. “It’s an international destination so it feels very cosmopolitan but at the same time it’s very South African,” says artist and designer Tshidzo Mangena, who moved to Cape Town and recently launched his design studio after practising fine art for years. Two decades ago, this was much more difficult.
When James Mudge started his furniture business in 2006, there was only a handful of furniture makers in the city. The country was still emerging from the hangover of apartheid. “Sanctions only ended in 1994,” says Mudge, as he walks Monocle through his impressive showroom and factory. “Ten years is not that long in the spectrum of an economy.” What started as a one-man band is now a sprawling warehouse in the industrial area of Paarden Eiland on the outskirts of Cape Town, where Mudge’s signature wooden tables and chairs are manufactured. He brought the entire production in-house a few years ago – a savvy move, given that electricity cuts still aren’t unheard of, despite infrastructure improvements.



Though Cape Town is arguably the most efficiently run metropolis in the country, it has had its problems, from those cuts to water shortages and safety issues. “There are all kinds of challenges,” says Carla Erasmus, co-founder and designer at Bofred, a contemporary design studio that crafts sculptural chairs, sconces and lamps. Erasmus remembers a time when the studio couldn’t make its bestselling items because they required clay and there was a shortage of water. “We just had to work around it,” she says, adding that it doesn’t faze them any more.
One thing that set South Africa’s design scene back in the early 2000s was the notion that the products made here weren’t as good as those from places such as Denmark or Italy, which had established design identities. This is despite South Africa having a long history of manufacturing, from textiles to woodwork and cabinetry. In the 1990s, many industries fell into decline, which undermined the confidence of the manufacturing scene. “It got depleted and people started importing,” says Erasmus. But, as pioneers such as Mudge, Haldane Martin and Xandre Kriel began paving the way and producing better-quality products, perceptions shifted, kick-starting demand and creating space for makers.
Designers have been grappling with this inferiority complex for years. “We have all been so obsessed with overcoming this idea that things made in South Africa might not be great and all of the imported stuff is amazing,” says Mudge, adding that this mindset is what drove the industry to improve. “We have tried so hard that we have ended up with products that have their own essence and flavour, and are different from what’s available in Europe and America. You go to these international trade shows and, while the products are cool, they’re all the same. Because we are separate from that, we have developed our own language, which I think is incredible.”


For many here, this means leaning into a fresh but distinctively African aesthetic. Maweni’s clay chairs riff on Zulu and Xhosa ceramics, while Mangena’s series of decor pieces and furniture is named after progressive African cities, such as the muscular, wooden Kigali chair. “I’m trying to redefine stereotypes about African design,” says Mangena.
Indeed, it seems that there has never been such an appetite for African art and design, with fairs such as Art 3 Lagos and Nairobi Design Week drawing global attention. Margot Molyneux, founder of Design Week South Africa, remembers sitting around a table at Milan Design Week a few years ago with a group of people from Europe and the UK, who quickly turned their attention to her. “All of these people wanted to know where I came from and what was happening in Cape Town,” says Molyneux. This curiosity prompted her to launch her design week event in 2024, a three-day immersive fair that hosts product launches, talks, meet-ups and showcases in Cape Town and Johannesburg. “There’s international attention on Africa; it feels sort of like the last frontier,” she says. “People want to know what is happening in this continent. And there is a lot going on.”
Indeed, in the past few years, more brands have launched and even opened standalone shops. Bofred recently unveiled a new glass-fronted space on the second floor of a shopping hub on buzzy Harrington Street, while furniture designers Pedersen 1 Lennard opened a bricks-and-mortar outpost with pieces that can be purchased in-store. New makers are arriving on the scene too. At the Ramp, an artist-led space on an industrial street in Paarden Eiland, architects and furniture makers share a communal workspace. In the workshop at the back, there’s the constant hum of a saw or sander. It’s here that artist and designer Gabriel Hope creates his custom cabinetry and flatpack stools. His business has grown organically and flourished thanks in part to consumers who no longer want to import pieces but have regionally made goods instead. “There is an interest in trying to support smaller businesses,” says Hope.



South Africans, who are largely accustomed to political turmoil and international outsider status, tend to rally behind local industries that are doing well. And designers also garner support because they can customise products for their clients. “A little bit higher or a custom colour? No problem,” says Bofred’s Erasmus, adding that South African designers go above and beyond for their customers. And they can because prototyping here is easy so you don’t have to make a run of thousands of items. “But that’s also because the designers themselves want to create something unique,” she says. For some brands, multiple craftsmen will work on one piece of furniture. While this can create an artisanal quality, it also requires time. “It can take between eight to 12 weeks to make a sofa,” says Anatomy Design’s Hesse. “We don’t have big factories like they do in China where they are mass-producing,” she says. “There’s a man or woman sitting behind a sofa hand-stitching it. Which is so beautiful – all of these incredible hands that are poured into one piece of furniture.”
Tapping into the country’s craft scene has presented opportunities for many brands. At Ananta Studio, sisters Viveka and Rucita Vassen work with craftspeople to produce beaded lamps, vases and chairs in colours such as hot pink and emerald green, inspired by their Indian heritage. “There’s so much opportunity because there are a lot of crafters here,” says Rucita. The sisters (one studied fashion, the other graphic design) got the idea for the brand when they noticed craftspeople on the side of the street creating beaded flowers and animals. “We saw the untapped potential,” says Viveka. “As designers we thought, ‘How can we support them, grow the craft and take it to another level?’” Ananta now works with a host of artisans to produce collections of vibrant, beaded pieces that feel entirely unique but also true to the city. “There’s a feeling that Cape Town wants to put itself on the map,” says Rucita. “People travel from all over the world to go to design fairs and Cape Town should be on that map.” (Also, she adds, because it’s “such a beautiful destination”.) For creatives, there couldn’t be a better time to be producing here. “It’s exciting to be making things in Cape Town. You can feel that things are moving. There’s an energy that is starting to shift.”

Lessons from the Mother City
Here are three lessons that Cape Town can teach design-minded cities across the globe.
1.
Embrace constraints
Designers here have turned infrastructure challenges, such as water shortages and electricity outages, into opportunities for innovation, developing resilience and honing their output and design language.
2.
Use your geography
Separation from American and European design centres has prevented homogenisation and allowed Cape Town’s creatives to produce work that stands out, precisely because it’s different from the global mainstream.
3.
Come together
The Cape Town design scene thrives on shared resources such as communal workspaces and strong consumer support for regional businesses, creating an ecosystem where small-scale production can flourish.
