Drones are quickly becoming a part of our everyday lives. Whether we experience these versatile flying machines directly or indirectly, it’s crucial that each of us develops an understanding of their wide range of uses.
In 2011, a U.S. drone was used to take out Anwar al-Awlaki, a United States citizen living in Yemen, and a member of al-Qaeda. President Obama, feeling justified both morally and legally, ordered the strike. The missile was launched from a base in Saudi Arabia; minutes later, the target was killed. Then and now, the death of Anwar al-Awlaki has spawned intense debates about the ethics of drone warfare.
In 2016, the San Francisco based company Zipline began using drones in Rwanda. Its operations are admirable. A drone is launched into the sky carrying a payload of medical supplies. Covering terrain that would otherwise be time-consuming and difficult to traverse on land, the ultimate recipient of the drone delivery might very well be receiving the most important package of his or her life.
Clearly, the range of use cases for drones is vast. From building inspections and search and rescue missions, to videography and aerial photography, the technology behind drones is incredibly versatile.
It would do us well, then, to think carefully not only about rules and regulations pertaining to UAVs, but also the kinds of cultures we do, or do not, want to foster. Given the extreme heterogeneity of the drone world, that’s a tall task.
But in the year 2023, one thing should at least be clear: to view drones as inherently bad, on the one hand, or as a force for good, on the other, is far too simplistic. As with artificial intelligence, it’s unproductive and unconstructive to hold blanket views about a technology that is so vast and multifaceted.
In Flowstate: The FPV Documentary, director James Christianson takes viewers into one of many sectors in the ever expanding drone: the high-speed, adrenaline-infused world of FPV drones.
FPV stands for “first-person view,” and it’s essentially what it sounds like.
With the drone prepped and goggles on, the pilot “buckles” in for a wild ride. What happens next is limited only to the pilot’s imagination. Perhaps the pilot will send the drone upwards, parallel to a seaside cliff in order to capture some amazing cinematic footage. Or maybe the pilot will execute some impressive moves as he or she navigates the drone through the twists and turns of a “bando” (FPV lingo for an abandoned building).
Whatever the scenario might be, the word “adrenaline” pops up a lot. As one FPV enthusiast says, “It is the closest thing you can get to flying a fighter jet.” That might sound like a laughable exaggeration, but this particular person has, in fact, been in the cockpit of a multi-million dollar fighter jet.
For him and others, such as ex-snowboarders and skateboarders, this adrenaline rush is a major attraction to the world of FPV. But it’s far from the only one.
This is where Flowstate is at its best. Viewers see the multifaceted culture behind this passionate community. What motivates FPV devotees to spend a great deal of their time, money, and energy on this particular activity?
It turns out that it’s a lot more than just a need for speed.
FPV enthusiasts love to problem solve and experiment. Many seem to embody a kind of inventor persona: the continuous urge to tweak, explore, and create. We see tables strewn with soldering equipment, wire cutters, power supplies, spare parts, and an array of other stuff. It’s a drone workshop.
Along with the ingenuity aspect, the FPV family shares many aspects that are a part of virtually any hobbyist community: a mutual passion, camaraderie, exchange of ideas, competition. All of this comes through vividly and convincingly in Flowstate.
Where the documentary is less strong is in its segment on Part 107 — the FAA’s drone requirements.
As might be expected, the people featured in Flowstate have serious qualms with Part 107, particularly as it pertains to Remote ID. (Remote ID involves, among other things, sending out the location of the drone pilot.) Many are frustrated with what they feel are overly intrusive and expensive demands. “It would be very easy and very low impact to come up with a solution that’s based on the RF that we already use,” says one FPV enthusiast.
The documentary shows some of its cast in Washington D.C., peacefully protesting outside the FAA building on a chilly day in early 2020. Though the protest wasn’t able to facilitate the results it ultimately hoped for, the turnout was large and reassuring.
Viewers can appreciate this part of the film. But as is true for the documentary overall, where are the counterarguments? Where is the interviewee that plays devil’s advocate, if only for a few moments?
The documentary is terrific at showing us the interesting and multifaceted community of FPV; but it sometimes feels unaware that not all viewers are going to be persuaded by its content and arguments. Which is somewhat ironic.
Consider the opening lines of Flowstate: “For the most part, people don’t understand drones. So when they do, they’re comfortable with it. When they don’t, they want to see it burn.” (Cue some electronic music.) “Then when you go out and see it in real life, it’s like, well, that’s freaking cool as crap.”
There’s no doubt some truth to that—and granted, it’s an alluring way to open the film.
But in the course of Flowstate’s hour and a half, it often feels as if viewers are supposed to attribute all of the fun and positive aspects of drones to the world of FPV. Any downsides or harmful effects of drones should automatically be pushed aside into some other area.
Indeed, the documentary never brings up any of the negative, or even potentially negative, aspects of drones. Not once. Even for viewers who might actually be quite favorable to drones, this is off-putting.
Flowstate, for instance, features a number of scenes where drones are flying in downtown areas, around office buildings, in baseball fields and in parks. Wouldn’t it have been appropriate to spend at least a few moments touching on legtimate concerns about drones (including FPV), such as privacy?
We hear so much in the film about how FPV pilots just want to innocently pursue their hobby. But what about people who have other hobbies and interests, like taking their family to a park on a weekend afternoon? What about their expectations for enjoyment and the ability to carry out their activities in a manner that they want?
To be fair, it’s not as if the film makes light of these serious matters; it’s just that it never bothers to address them in the first place.
These issues aside, Flowstate is worth watching.
Drones are no longer just something you hear about every so often in the news; they play an increasingly diverse role in our world. If we want a future in which drones are an overall force for good, rather than bad, we need to start understanding them in all their capacities.
Spectatio 