To 2025 and beyond

If anyone were to ask me (and nobody has, ngl) about my year’s experience of LinkedIn in 2024, it would be frustration and dilemma. I’m frustrated with the gradual rise of misleading and intemperate “conversations” that have crept into my LinkedIn feed. And not just any dilemma: the dilemma about what to do when you see something wrong in your feed. When I say “something wrong”, I don’t mean a matter of different opinion; I mean conspiracy theories, alienating opinions masquerading as fact, bigotry and plain old disrespect.

The weirdest conspiracy theory (in my opinion) is that 20-minute or 30-minute cities are ways of restricting and controlling people; so weird that I don’t know how to argue against it. In my LinkedIn feed, there has been a sharp increase in green-washing from fossil fuel corporations and corporations who depend on their custom?—?that’s annoying. A special mention goes to the comments that pour scorn on the aesthetic and environmental qualities of wind and solar farms, while ignoring those same qualities of coal- and oil-burning power stations. To paraphrase Douglas Adams, it is an interesting fact that never in any language in history has there been the phrase “as beautiful as a power station” except in sarcasm. Then there has been a continual stream of abuse against young people and often against women, especially those who express an opinion. Finally, there are the outrage comments, where “what a load of BS spewing from a sewer rat like this individual” substitutes for “Sorry, my esteemed colleague, could I just point out a difference in our opinions?”

The problem is that if nobody contradicts an article or comment that is simply not right, those without knowledge or opinion may take it as fact. Maybe that’s the way conspiracy theories start: someone says they saw Elvis alive and kicking, nobody contradicted him/her, and next thing we have riots at the gate of Graceland. I’ve tried to start a conspiracy theory. I suggested that the one-directional toll on the Sydney Harbour Bridge causes a traffic vortex that is slowing down the rotation of the earth, or that the wind the traffic generates will start cyclones. But either my efforts were too puny or that’s not the way conspiracy theories start after all. Either way, nobody contradicted me and now I’m wondering if I’m onto something and the rotation of the earth is slowing down because of the traffic.

Nothing fans the flames of incandescent outrage like bicycle lanes, or so it seems on Australian LinkedIn. I’m not sure what it is about bike lanes that is so anger-inducing. Perhaps it’s a kind of road rage, a reaction to those few pesky cyclists on their token metre’s width of road who zoom past queues of drivers sitting in air-conditioned, air-polluting machines. And much of the insult seems to be that cyclists don’t have to register their vehicles, nor pay registration fees, nor contribute in any way to the upkeep of roads. It’s a weird logic, that seems to be driven by driving a car. Apparently, drivers don’t see the freedom of cyclists to keep moving through congested streets and think “Hey, I should do that”. They think “Hey, that shouldn’t be allowed. How dare they? They should drive and add to the queue that I’m in, so that my delays becomes worse and so that the road’s surface is damaged a tiny bit more quickly. And then they should pay registration fees and fuel taxes to fix it. They should drive so that they emit as many pollutants into our stressed atmosphere as I do so I don’t feel such guilt.”

Let’s not dwell on the bigotry, the disrespectful, the ugliness that has been in some areas of LinkedIn through 2024. That’s my dilemma right there: suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous absurdity, or take to keyboards against a sea of troubles even though there’s no prospect of defeating them.

Mostly, I’m frustrated and cross with myself, because despite never posting a comment without first having a night’s sleep, I can see in my review of my year’s worth of contributions to topics, that I’ve been far more waspish than I thought. I feel like LinkedIn, the most popular social media platform for workers, should be a bit more adult and a little less troll-ish. But then so should I. If I wanted to take part in exchanges with indignation and vitriol, I’d join the weirdly named X formerly known as Twitter.?

On reflection, I think social media platforms are the modern equivalent of the Tower of Babel. They all seemed to have started out with high-minded aspirations: bring people into contact with each other (albeit virtually), give them convenient access to information about others and who the hot girls at Uni are, let people in businesses and professions debate important issues while promoting their goods and services. In the end, all they do is emphasise our differences and prevent understanding in a spiral of invective and anger. The more we engage in building our towers of understanding, the less we understand each other and the less patience we have for others.

Last year, transport modelling’s own rock star, Tom van Vuren, gave me some advice that I’m heeding: never celebrate the end of anything. So this year, after my rant about bad comments and what not, I’m looking to 2025, not celebrating the end of 2024. Firstly, I’m going to be more kind when I feel I have to comment on anything. I predict that I am going to fail in that to some extent. I’m also looking forward to the AITPM online technical conference in February, and the main conference in September. Also, there’ll be the Modelling World Conference, that I will certainly miss. Again. Finally, I’m pretty sure that I won’t solve my dilemma, but next year, I’m going to try to trim my feed, block out at least some of the things that stress me, respond to fewer comments and try to bury my head in the digital sands of the internet.

And now I’ll make some forecasts of what is going to happen in each month of 2025. I’m using a 3-step quantum equilibrium strategic forecast model, in which every possible state is modelled and a forecast only manifests when you look at it. AI has been used liberally to produce these prophecies, at least in part. Here they are:

January 2025

• Nobody turns up to the conference for Transport Modelling for Time Travel.

February 2025

• Chocolate Rain: Scientists discover a way to make chocolate rain from clouds, leading to a global chocolate shortage as everyone rushes to collect it. Petrochemical corporations quickly concoct a way to create a chocolate substitute from oil, and demand reaches the point where there’s no more oil for combustion engines.
• The AITPM online technical conference goes well.

March 2025

• Invisible Pets: A new trend emerges where people adopt invisible pets, leading to a rise in invisible pet accessories and training schools. A range of invisible pet transporters takes to the roads, creating invisible queues that cause further congestion on the roads. Frustrated drivers take to LinkedIn to post strongly worded comments demanding the provision of invisible trains and buses.

April 2025

• Reverse Ageing Day: A day is declared where everyone ages backward for 24 hours, causing chaos in schools and workplaces. But everyone gets a small break from tax, even if public transport operators can’t decide which day’s timetable to schedule services on.

May 2025

• Continual mucking about with DNA research will result in a batch of Cassowaries hatching a throwback generation from the Triassic era. The resulting chaos on the roads will spark thousands of angry, gall-spitting posts on LinkedIn demanding an immediate asteroid to destroy the creatures.

June 2025

• Modelling World conference in England: a new stream of discussion is introduced: Transport Modelling for Time Travel. There’s a call for abstracts for papers and the date for the premier conference is set for January 2025.?

July 2025

• Plant Communication: Researchers unveil a device that allows cabbages to communicate with CEVs causing a crisis for taxis and Uber.?
• There’s a sudden surge of plant rights activism as AI is injected accidentally into a bunch of cauliflowers.

August 2025

• Nothing happens in August. Some of us will mow our laws, others will paint the garage.

September 2025

• The AITPM conference takes place in Adelaide: Several papers are presented by cauliflowers promoting the safe transport of Allosaurs and invisible pets.

October 2025

• Ghostly Assistants: A tech company launches ghostly AI assistants that provide way-finding guidance from beyond the grave.

November 2025

• The fossil fuel industry finally allows us to take the climate emergency seriously.
• Underwater Cities: The first underwater city, Chevronia, opens to the public, complete with glass tunnels and aquatic-themed restaurants.
• Floating Schools: Floating schools are established by Shell to combat rising sea levels, with students commuting by jet ski powered and marketed by BP.

December 2025

• Emigration to Mars: The first ship carrying emigrants from Mars will not leave Earth.

To end 2024, I wish everyone the best of fortune in 2025. I hope all your forecasts are spot on. And I hope your break from work (if you’re having one) is peaceful and free from irritating stuff. I’ll look forward to seeing how those predictions work out in a year’s time.