Uber's new helicopter taxi for Capri is the symbol of idiotic tourism: tons of CO2 for 10 minutes of flight

You know how carefully you separate your waste, or the silent joy you feel every time you choose a bike over a car? Good. Now imagine all that being swept away by the roar of a helicopter flying over the Faraglioni , taking six tourists to Capri . A short, quick, exclusive ride. A glamorous gimmick disguised as innovation. Uber's latest brilliant idea: the helicopter taxi .

Capri, ten square kilometers, thirteen thousand residents, fifty thousand tourists a day . An inhumane, unsustainable, almost grotesque ratio. Yet there are still those who think the island's problem is getting there too slowly. Not the crowds, not the waste, not the water shortage, not the pressure on internal mobility or the inability of residents to experience their own territory. No, the problem is time. The time it takes to reach a place already saturated , already on its knees.

So, as if nothing had happened, instead of reducing traffic, the skies are opening up. For nine days, between late July and August, flights will carry six people at a time from Sorrento to Capri. Thirty kilometers. Ten minutes . Seventy-five kilos of CO2 . For each trip. Like a car launched from Rome to Rimini, but concentrated in ten minutes of privileged high-altitude time.

It's not the first time technology has bowed to luxury rather than common sense . But what's really resonant here—beyond the noise of the turbines themselves—is the total lack of vision. Instead of designing Capri's future, we continue to add weight to its fragile shoulders. No one seems to be asking the fundamental question: what is tourism really today? And what kind of tourism do we want tomorrow?

Because the truth is, a place isn't a set, nor a playground. It's a living organism, with a delicate balance, a community that inhabits it, a history that shapes it. Continuing to treat Capri as a stop to be "checked off" in a carousel of stories is not only shortsighted, but also violent.

We need a change of direction. Not a flight. A vision. Not a luxury gadget for the few, but a shared project for all. We could start with the limit, a word frowned upon today, but necessary. Limit landings . Limit daily access. Encourage longer, slower, more respectful stays. Imagine a reservation system for accessing the island, not unlike those used for major museums or nature parks.

And then work with residents , the true custodians of the land, to build a new pact between those who live there and those who visit. Because tourism should never become a form of exploitation . And a vacation, to be truly a vacation, should also benefit those who host it. We don't need a flight. We need a higher perspective.