This eclectic selection of “We’re Hiring” signs illustrate some of the unusual ways companies offer jobs in a booming economy with low unemployment.

“We’re still hiring humans”, declares this billboard ad for Carnegie Robotics in “The City of Bridges” (presumably Pittsburgh, PA), and that’s good news, right? Right?? Indeed, there’s something more than a little sinister about this pitch and the image of a vaguely Bender-ish robot doesn’t help. At least they didn’t give him a goatee. Flickr member Nick Amoscato snapped a couple shots of the jumbo hiring ad in June of 2018.

Hirers Gonna Hire

OK, maybe you could write off this hiring banner for Sears as a “vintage” photo but according to Flickr member and photographer Random Retail, the image dates from 2013 and was taken at a newly closed Sears store in Pennsdale, PA. Like Sears hasn’t trolled its remaining workers enough; does it really have to jerk the chains of potential employees as well?

Proofreader Wanted

Now we know why there’s no “I” in “team”… it’s found a new home on this bizarre hiring ad. While one might excuse a typo on a hand-written sign, this appears to be a manufactured or at least, a bulk-printed piece. That means there must be many more out there, barring any flashes of comprehension by the staff members charged with deploying them. Normally we’d mask some or all of the phone number to avoid embarrassing the proprietor but in this case, Flickr member Domenico Bettinelli‘s image has been posted for almost 12 years. Also, they deserve to be shamed.

Eat Mor Pengwin

Is this a hiring billboard or a lost cat, er, penguin poster? Why not both? “Tux” the penguin is the official brand character of the Linux brand so, umm, where is he… and what’s with that ‘gator’s evil, lip-smackin’ grin? Who designed this ad anyway, Admiral Ackbar? Flickr member Michael Coghlan snapped the fearsome hiring billboard in Austin, TX (wherever you are) in January of 2012.

Hiring In Plain Site

Yes, “site”, as in a plain site situated in plain sight. Bet it looks even plainer on the inside due to the apparent lack of windows, not to mention a door. Wouldn’t the latter make the whole “inquire within” thing somewhat of a challenge, to say the least? Maybe they’re interviewing pole vaulters. Flickr member joepopp captured this enigmatic example of hiring-inside-the-box back in March of 2007.

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Worker Be 10 Were Hiring Signs Of The Times

These dozen closed and abandoned pawn shops refute the myth of a robust economy where tax cuts and less regulation trickle down to those in the greatest need.

Pawn shops are the canaries in an economy’s coal mine. Often acting as money-lenders of last resort, these fiercely independent businesses can only succeed when buyers and sellers have something of value to trade. Many have survived, even thrived, for decades. Take the former United Jewelers and Pawnbrokers, located on Seneca St in Buffalo and reduced to an ignominious “EWEL”… not to mention a paint job apparently conducted using beet juice. Flickr members Mike S (Mike Saternus) and Jer Johns (5YearJourney) snapped the ruddy relic in October of 2015 and January of 2014, respectively.

Hock-It Science

“Hock It To Me” is a great name for a pawn shop though if it was in New York we’d go with “You Hockin’ To Me?” Neat name or not, this abandoned pawnbroker in Uptown Butte, Montana has left the BUY – SELL – TRADE biz for good. Flickr member Henningsen3 stopped by in May of 2006 to capture the shop and its old-style sign for posterity.

Degenerated

“When even the pawn shops are closing down, you know the city centre has problems,” states Flickr member Crookes (DJN…). The above closed Cash Generator store in Sheffield, UK, was a branch of the Edinburgh-based chain whose services include “money transfer, currency exchange, vape products.” Seems that even the popularity of the latter couldn’t save this particular shop.

Selling England By The Pawned

A choice street corner location on the High Street of Rotherham, West Yorkshire didn’t help the above branch of H&T Pawnbrokers. At least they’re making some effort to retain their customer base. Flickr member leon S-D (littleweed1950) captured the weathered but clean closed shop languishing in retail limbo back in January of 2013.

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Once A Pawn A Time 12 More Abandoned Pawn Shops

Built with visions of suburban prosperity in more optimistic times, the empty shells of former dream homes dot the countryside among piles of construction rubble and fallen-down fences. Economic highs and lows have led to abandonments of entire villages all over the world, from China to the Mediterranean, but Ireland is among the nations that was particularly hard-hit.

Photographer Valérie Anex captures Ireland’s ‘ghost estates’ in a series of striking images that juxtapose a fading hope for sanitized suburbia with the current reality, which is simply that nobody can afford to live in these houses. The National Institute for Regional and Spacial Analysis defines ‘ghost estates’ as developments of ten houses or more in which fifty percent or less of the homes are occupied or completed.

The latest tally of ghost estates in Ireland, taken in 2013, is 30% less than it was when Anex took these photos in 2011, but that’s still well over ten thousand mostly-empty neighborhoods in a relatively small nation (and just a small percentage of Ireland’s 350,000-some-odd abandoned houses.)

Most of the ghost estates are found in the rural areas of the northern and western parts of the country. Says Anex, “These empty shells are eyesores for the locals in these small towns. The crisis is affecting the country – unemployment, debts, budget cuts, flights of capital investments – but it is also shaping its landscape.”

“Bitter memories left by the spectral and temporary nature of the property boom in Ireland, ghost estates are the symbol of the property market’s collapse, a topology of the economic disintegration of the country.”

The Ghost Estates series will be on display at the Photobookshow in Brighton, England this June.

It’s been called the Dubai of northern China, showered with wealth, packed with public infrastructure and located near to precious natural resources in a region plagued by water-supply troubles. But the urban center of Ordos City, known as ‘Kangbashi New Area’, has been mostly deserted for five years. Kangbashi isn’t a ghost town due to economic issues, contamination or any other common cause of such abandonment – the government simply can’t convince people to move there.

Built for 1 million people and currently inhabited by just a few thousand (despite a government claim of 28,000 residents, who are more likely just commuting workers), Kangbashi is filled with brand new buildings. One apartment building after another perches on the edge of streets that rarely see traffic, skyscrapers stand empty and over $5 billion worth of public buildings are unused and unstaffed.

(images via: archdaily)

One notable architectural project, the Ordos Art Museum, was the first structure to go up in the new civic center. Its ethereal location on a stretch of sand dunes along a lake makes it all the more visually striking. But this 29,000-square-foot exhibition and research space is just accumulating dust until the city’s hoped-for residents move in.

(image via: time)

Even now, construction on Kangbashi homes, businesses and public buildings still continues. City officials are confident that it’s just a matter of time before many of the 1.5 million residents of Ordos proper, who live 15 miles away in the old section of town, see the light. The Ordos city government has already moved its offices there, but that’s the extent of life in the new town.

(image via: google maps)

“It’s pretty lonely here,” Li Li, the marketing manager of an elegant restaurant in Kangbashi’s mostly vacant Lido Hotel, told The New York Times. “Most of the people who come to our restaurant are government officials and their guests. There aren’t any common residents around here.”

(image via: time)

Kangbashi’s local economy should be flourishing, given its close proximity to abundant natural resources like natural gas and coal. As in much of the rest of China, real estate in Ordos is booming, and the apartments in Kangbashi aren’t empty for lack of buyers.

(image via: time)

Investors have snapped up nearly every available residence, confident that they’ll eventually see a big return. But it’s exactly this activity that has analysts worried about a speculative real estate bubble that will inevitably see a painful pop.

(images via: google maps)

On Google Maps, you can explore the vacant city’s complex layout, intricate landscaping and wealth of public spaces like parks, swimming pools and a massive town square. The land is still raw in many areas as construction marches on, and what few cars can be seen are clustered around government buildings. New highways cut into sparsely populated countryside.

(image via: time)

So why don’t people want to live here, in a sparkling state-of-the-art city filled with modern architecture? Mostly, for now, moving to Kangbashi is an inconvenience. The new district is a thirty-minute drive from the old district where the bulk of Ordos residents still live, and the slow pace of relocation has stalled important supporting services like restaurants and markets.

(image via: time)

It may seem like a bizarre folly on behalf of the Chinese government, borne of severely misplaced optimism. But Ordos is indeed expanding at a rapid pace, home to a growing number of coal millionaires and producing China’s highest gross domestic product per capita. And pouring money into such new urban areas is part of a plan by China’s government to increase its middle class, benefiting the nation’s economy as a whole. Despite the current eerie silence of its streets, it’s probably safe to say that Kangbashi won’t be empty for long.

When a city’s economy begins to fail, those in charge have some choices to make. Should they pump money into local businesses? Should they let the public see just how bad it’s getting? One town in England is taking a novel approach to the scores of closed-up shops on its main street: they’re putting up fake business fronts to make the shopping areas seem less deserted.

(images via: Daily Mail)

In North Tyneside, more than 140 businesses have closed up shop, leaving the High Streets looking somewhat desolate and empty. Knowing that a deserted shopping area can discourage other businesses from moving in while it encourages even more to pull out, the North Tyneside council decided to try a radically unusual approach: they’re faking it.

The council is funding a project to install fake storefronts onto vacant retail spaces. The first stage of the project was transforming a deserted clothing store into a delicatessen. A removable covering reading “Delicatessen?” was installed over the shop’s existing signage, and a brightly-colored picture depicting the interior of a busy deli was installed behind the shop’s large windows.

The picture helps passers-by to imagine what the shop might look like if it actually were a delicatessen. The council hopes this bit of imagination-boost will help potential tenants to envision the possibilities of the space. It’s a powerful image that would certainly inspire business owners more than an empty, desolate retail space ever could. The council plans to put up more fake shopfronts to support commercial areas in several towns. At around £1500 per shop, it’s a quick, inexpensive and completely reversible way to spruce up a deserted-looking shopping center.

(image via: Torontoist)

If the project seems familiar, maybe it’s because it’s eerily similar to an art project that took place in Toronto in 2008. Artists Dan Bergeron and Gabriel Reese put together A City Renewal Project to call attention to the changing landscape of their city. They took over a warehouse and filled it with fake storefronts; the entryways were full-size prints of real deserted businesses from around Toronto.

The pair – and their crew of assistants – carted in just about everything you could expect to see on an actual city street: rubbish, graffiti, leaves, bicycles, billboards, and even an old streetcar shelter and bus stop. Even the entrance to the warehouse was invented by creating a false storefront called “Mr. Loogie” for visitors to enter through.

(image via: Torontoist)

The temporary city street was constructed in a block that was slated to be demolished to make way for a new condominium complex. But unlike the false shopfronts in North Tyneside, these imaginary shops were there to bring all eyes to the troublesome practice of demolishing history, rather than concealing the changing business landscape from residents.