Urban volumetric imaginaries and the mediatization of China’s low-altitude economy

In the bustling cities of today, the space above our heads is no longer just empty sky. It is becoming a new frontier for transportation, logistics, and surveillance, a realm where drones and electric flying vehicles are beginning to operate. This emerging field is often called the "low-altitude economy," a term that describes the commercial use of the airspace just above our cities. For decades, we have been used to thinking of cities as flat maps, with roads, buildings, and parks arranged on a two-dimensional plane. But as technology advances, the vertical dimension is opening up, turning the air between buildings into a potential highway system. This shift is not just about new machines; it is about how we imagine and govern the space we share. When a new technology arrives, the stories we tell about it—through news reports, government announcements, and social media videos—shape how we feel about it. These stories can make a complex, potentially risky change feel like an inevitable and perfect future, or they can highlight the dangers and disruptions it might bring to our daily lives. Understanding these stories is crucial because they determine whether we accept these changes or question them.

A recent study by researchers at Tsinghua University in China investigates exactly how these stories are being told about the rise of urban air mobility in China. The researchers wanted to understand how the media is shaping the public's view of this new vertical world. They gathered a massive collection of news articles and reports from 2015 to 2025, covering everything from early military drone tests to the latest promises of flying taxis. By analyzing thousands of these texts, they mapped out how the conversation has changed over time and what kinds of messages are being repeated most often. Their work reveals a powerful pattern: the media is not just reporting on new technology; it is actively constructing a specific vision of the future that makes the idea of flying cars and drone deliveries feel like a natural, uncontested progress, while quietly pushing aside the worries and risks that real people might feel.

The study found that the way the media talks about this "low-altitude economy" has shifted dramatically over the last decade. In the early years, around 2015 to 2018, the news focused heavily on military aspects, security concerns, and geopolitical tensions. The sky was discussed in terms of defense and national borders. However, as time went on, the conversation changed completely. By 2024 and 2025, the language had pivoted to focus entirely on economic growth, industrial development, and national pride. The words "military" and "security" disappeared from the top keywords, replaced by terms like "economy," "industry," and "development." The researchers observed that the narrative moved from a story of potential threat to a story of economic opportunity, framing the ability to fly as a new engine for the country's prosperity. This shift suggests that the primary goal of the current media narrative is to present the low-altitude economy as an essential and positive step for the nation's future, rather than a complex issue with many sides.

To understand how this positive image is maintained, the researchers looked closely at the tone and framing of the articles. They found that the vast majority of the coverage, about 56.7 percent, was framed as an "achievement." These stories celebrated breakthroughs, "world's first" milestones, and successful certifications. The media often linked these achievements to the idea of China leading the world in this new technology. In contrast, stories that discussed risks, such as safety accidents, privacy concerns, or noise pollution, made up only a small fraction of the coverage, roughly 17.2 percent. When risks were mentioned, they were often treated as isolated, manageable technical glitches rather than serious problems that could affect daily life. The researchers noted that the public is rarely shown as an active participant in this new world. Instead, people are portrayed either as passive beneficiaries who will enjoy faster deliveries and new sightseeing options, or as rule-breakers who might be fined for flying their own drones. The complex reality of living under a sky filled with machines is largely missing from these reports.

The study also uncovered a clever use of language that simplifies the complex nature of three-dimensional space. The media frequently uses metaphors that treat the sky like the ground. Phrases like "aerial highways" and "low-altitude corridors" are used to describe the paths that drones and flying vehicles will take. This language is powerful because it makes the idea of flying traffic feel familiar and easy to understand, similar to driving on a road. However, the researchers argue that this is a misleading comparison. The sky is not a flat road; it is a three-dimensional volume where many different users might need to share the same space, potentially leading to conflicts that do not exist on a two-dimensional street. By using these flat metaphors, the media effectively "flattens" the complexity of the situation. It makes the vertical space seem like a simple extension of the ground, ignoring the unique challenges of noise, visual intrusion, and the feeling of being watched that come with having machines flying directly overhead.

The researchers conclude that this media approach creates what they call a "discursive closure." This means that the stories being told are so consistent and positive that they close off other ways of thinking about the issue. By constantly repeating the message of progress and economic gain, and by using simple metaphors that make the technology seem harmless, the media makes it difficult for the public to imagine a different future or to raise concerns about the downsides. The result is a vision of the future that feels inevitable and perfect, a "hyperreal" version of the city where the messy, difficult realities of living with new technology are erased. The study suggests that this is not just a matter of bad reporting, but a strategic way of building public consent for a major change in how our cities are used. Before a single flying car lands in a neighborhood, the narrative has already been set to make it seem like the only logical path forward.

Ultimately, the paper argues that we need to be more aware of how these stories are constructed. The rapid rise of the low-altitude economy in China is being driven not just by technology, but by a powerful machine of words and images that shapes our expectations. The researchers warn that by accepting this simplified, optimistic view, we might be ignoring the real, lived experiences of the people on the ground. The noise, the privacy concerns, and the feeling of losing control over the space above our homes are real issues that cannot be solved just by calling the sky a "highway." To truly understand the future of our cities, we must look beyond the polished headlines and the promises of a frictionless future. We need to ask questions about who benefits from this new vertical world and who might be left behind, ensuring that the space above our heads remains a place for everyone, not just a zone for commercial expansion. The study serves as a reminder that the way we talk about the future is just as important as the technology itself, and that a truly democratic city requires a conversation that includes all voices, not just the loudest ones.