The Problem with Tall Erections

Relax, it’s not what you think

I looked down. And across. And around. And even behind. Though turning my head that way just gave me a view of the observatory deck, not the view I and many others had come for.

There was little to see. Or rather, what there was to see was too far away.

We were too far up.

This is the problem with skyscrapers built in locations where there are very few other skyscrapers.

Before I get to those problematic skyscrapers, please let me profess my love for these buildings that attempt to stretch to the heavens.

Many do a great job of offering visitors a stunning panorama of the city. Classics like the Empire State Building (shame it was a foggy day) and the Eiffel Tower (it certainly was not a foggy day) cannot be overlooked although — let’s face it — they’re barely skyscrapers by today’s standards.

Same with the TV towers in Stuttgart, Vienna, and Prague (if that sounds like a random list of European cities, it’s because those are the TV towers in Europe I remember visiting).

Taller is not always better, though humanity (i.e., men) have always had a propensity to outdo each other, haven’t they/we?

On to the two skyscrapers that in my personal experience are the worst offenders in the category of skyscrapers that are so much taller than all the surrounding buildings that you can’t see anything but clouds once you’re on the observatory deck.

Taipei 101

Sure, some critics make fun of its design for vaguely resembling a bunch of Chinese takeout boxes stacked on top of each other, but my real complaint is not with the structure itself but with its location.

There is not much of a view. Taipei 101 dwarfs every one of its neighbors within a radius of several kilometers. The glittering lights in the distance barely look like ants.

I understand that a flagship skyscraper is supposed to do that to a certain extent, but the Oriental Pearl TV Tower (it looks like a pink ball with a needle stuck through it midair) doesn’t suffer from this problem, as Pudong, the district of Shanghai in which it is located, is brimming with hulking financial powerhouses with the physicality to match.

Note: It’s been nearly sixteen years since I visited Taipei 101, so the view may very well be more interesting by now (though, if I had to bet, I would say probably not); regardless, the essence of my critique still stands.

Burj Khalifa

Is it still called the Burj Khalifa? I remember its name used to be something else and was changed to Burj Khalifa after Abu Dhabi had to bail Dubai out of bankruptcy after the financial crisis of 2008.

I’m pretty sure it had not been called the Dubai Tower. That’s another erection.

It was the tallest building in the world when I visited in 2012. Judging from the pace technology and competition are advancing, I don’t even have to go to Google to know that it’s likely no longer the tallest. More importantly, does it matter?

Burj Khalifa shares the aforementioned problem possessed by Taipei 101 but exhibits worse symptoms simply because it is that much taller and the surrounding buildings are that much shorter. If the glittering lights on the ground in Taipei looked like ants from the observatory deck of Taipei 101, then whatever lights dot the cityscape of Dubai looked like distant stars from that height.

Okay, that might’ve been an attractive simile. Scratch that.

More like wisps of dust on a low-resolution screen.

Key Takeaway

Is this an impromptu persuasive mini-essay to convince you not to spend your time and money on Taipei 101 and Burj Khalifa?

Not exactly, especially if the view has improved.

The point is that I believe these towers were built prematurely. Those with the means have always had an urge to out-erect each other. Sometimes the result just sticks out like a sore thumb.

Dash Ip writes mostly fiction and travel stories and the occasional book review or health and fitness article.

Want to recommend Medium membership to someone? There’s a sexy link for that (I get a cut, thanks).