Ever notice how airports blur together? It’s not your jet lag talking. And with a minor — but possible: 11% according to Kalshi — chance for President Donald Trump’s travel ban to end this year, you might be inside an airport soon.
From JFK to LAX to some terminal in Dubai, they all hit the same vibe: sterile lighting, overpriced snacks, and signage screaming efficiency.
Here’s why.
Welcome to the Airport Clone Wars
You land in Denver and could swear you’re still in Atlanta. Airports all feel like carbon copies — same polished floors, overpriced pretzels, and TSA lines that seem to exist in another dimension. This isn’t a coincidence. It’s deliberate, systemic, and all about control, profit, and flow.
You’re Being Herded
Airport layouts are designed to keep people moving without asking questions. Lighting leads your eyes forward, flooring changes tell you where to slow down, and ceilings subtly guide you to the next checkpoint. It’s part psychology, part cattle chute.
Security Theater on Repeat
Every airport starts with the same ritual: shoes off, laptops out, humiliation optional. It’s not just about actual safety — it’s about the appearance of control. That’s why every terminal channels you into the same security funnel: one way in, no way around.
Copy-Paste Restaurants
You’re not imagining it — Shake Shack, Chick-fil-A, Auntie Anne’s, rinse and repeat. These big franchises dominate because they’re easy to regulate and profitable under stress. Local joints? Too risky. Welcome to terminal monoculture.
Identity as Window Dressing
Sure, there’s a mural of Prince in Minneapolis or crab cakes at BWI. But let’s not kid ourselves: the architecture is still glass, metal, and neutral tones. Airports say they want to showcase civic pride, but in practice, they just need you to find Gate 27 and shut up.
It’s All About Flow
Flow isn’t just a buzzword — it’s religion in airport design. You go from check-in to security to retail to gate like a fish through a pipeline. Anything that disrupts that flow — chaotic signage, unique design, cultural friction — gets smoothed out.
The Global Elite Aesthetic
White walls. Glass. Soft jazz. Maybe a wooden bench for “warmth.” Airports look like office spaces for a reason: they reflect elite, borderless corporate culture. Modern, emotionless, familiar. If it feels sterile, that’s the point.
Why It Matters
This sameness isn’t just about looks — it’s about values. Airports aren’t built for joy or discovery. They’re built for efficiency, control, surveillance, and profit. Feeling disoriented? Good. Now buy a $14 sandwich and wait silently.
Final Boarding Call
Airports are temples to global capitalism, not places. They could be anywhere — and that’s intentional. The next time you walk through one, take a second to notice the sameness. It’s not broken. It’s working exactly as intended.
