DJI Avata 360: The Coolest Drone I Absolutely Don’t Want

May 16

Insta360 threw DJI a curveball.

Let’s just say that part out loud.

For years, consumer drones have mostly improved in predictable little steps. Better sensors. Better obstacle avoidance. Better tracking. Better batteries. Better software.

Useful stuff, sure.

But not exactly “holy hell, the whole category just changed.”

Then Insta360 showed up with Antigravity and basically said, “What if the drone captured everything and you figured out the shot later?”

That was actually interesting.

That was different.

That was the first consumer drone idea in a while that felt less like rearranging the same snacks on the same table and more like somebody kicked the table over and yelled, “Deal with it.”

And now DJI has answered with the Avata 360.

Because of course they did.

DJI does not like being second at anything for very long. You don’t become DJI by sitting quietly in the corner while someone else gets called innovative.

So here we are.

DJI now has a 360 FPV-style drone that can capture wild footage, let you reframe shots after the fact, and probably make regular drone footage look like it showed up to the party wearing beige pants.

And I get it.

Some of the footage looks absolutely insane.

The diving shots, the close passes, the flowing movements, the weird impossible angles, the “how the hell did they film that?” stuff — it’s cool.

I’m not blind.

I’m not pretending the technology isn’t impressive.

But would I buy one?

Fuck no.

Not a chance.

There is no realistic scenario where I buy this drone.

Not because it can’t do cool things.

Not because DJI didn’t build something impressive.

It’s because everything about it sounds like the exact version of drone flying I do not want.

I finally got my carcass out of the house.

I drove to a beach.

I’m sitting on a piece of driftwood, looking at the ocean, surrounded by actual Vancouver Island beauty, breathing fresh air like a semi-functional adult.

And now the plan is to strap screens to my skull?

No thanks.

That’s where the old man in me starts yelling.

I Went Outside to Be Outside

This is the part I can’t get past.

I live on Vancouver Island.

We have beaches, forests, mountains, driftwood, rain clouds, angry gulls, sunrise, fog, tide lines, and enough dramatic coastline to make a tourism board employee cry into a branded fleece vest.

A big part of why I like flying drones is that it gets me outside.

I like standing there.

I like seeing the place.

I like watching the drone, watching the light, watching the water, watching the wind, and trying to get the shot while I’m actually there.

So the idea of going to a beautiful beach and immediately putting a weird little television helmet on my face feels completely backwards to me.

I finally escaped the screens.

Now I’ve got a screen strapped to my skull.

Damn kids.

Get off my lawn with your technology.

And yes, I understand the hypocrisy here.

I’m flying a tiny computer with propellers using a remote control with a screen on it. I’m not exactly churning butter and writing letters by candlelight.

But there’s still a difference.

Flying a normal camera drone feels like I’m outside using a tool.

Flying FPV with goggles feels like I’m playing a video game in a beautiful place I’m no longer really looking at.

That’s not necessarily bad.

It’s just not what I want.

I already spend enough time staring at screens. I don’t need to drag my fat ass to the beach and then immediately seal my face inside a digital fishbowl.

The Avata 360 Is Probably Brilliant

This is not me saying the DJI Avata 360 is technically bad.

It probably isn’t.

From what I’ve seen, it looks like a very impressive piece of kit. DJI took the 360 drone idea seriously and did what DJI usually does: polished it, stuffed it into their ecosystem, gave it proper controls, made it feel less like a science project, and reminded everyone why they’re still the big dog in consumer drones.

The Avata 360 has the kind of specs that make creators start drooling on their keyboards.

Dual large sensors.

8K 360 video.

Huge stitched stills.

Internal storage.

MicroSD support.

DJI goggles and controller support.

Protected FPV-style body.

A workflow built around capturing everything and choosing the shot later.

On paper, that sounds amazing.

In practice, it sounds like a pain in the ass.

And that’s where I start twitching.

360 Footage Is Freedom, But Freedom Has a Receipt

The big selling point of 360 footage is that you don’t need to frame perfectly while flying.

Capture everything.

Decide later.

That is powerful.

It means you can fly once and pull multiple angles out of the same clip. Forward view. Rear view. Side view. Weird spinning social media nonsense. Tiny planet stuff. Chase angle. Reveal shot. Whatever else the algorithm demands this week.

For some people, that is heaven.

For me, it sounds suspiciously like homework.

Because “decide later” does not mean “less work.”

It means Future You gets to make all the decisions Current You avoided.

And Future Ryan is not reliable.

I already have footage I could turn into wonderful magic Instagram fancy edits.

Beautiful shots.

Nice moments.

Cool clips.

Stuff that would probably do well if I sat down and actually edited it properly.

Am I getting to that right now?

Nope.

Is next week looking good?

Also nope.

So do I want to spend twice as much time on the computer framing different angles of the same flying bubble of footage?

Fuck no, I do not.

That’s not creative freedom to me.

That’s a digital unpaid bill.

And 360 footage comes with extra little gremlins too.

Stitching.

Reframing.

Export settings.

File sizes.

Software quirks.

Possibly softer images after you crop into the 360 view.

Weird artifacts when objects get too close.

More decisions after the flight.

More sitting in front of the computer.

More “I’ll just make a quick clip” turning into 90 minutes of dragging keyframes around while my eyes glaze over and I start questioning every decision that led me here.

Some people hear “8K 360 reframing workflow” and get excited.

Good for them.

I hear it and think, “Great, I bought myself a kick in the pills with propellers.”

I Like Making the Shot While I’m There

I like making the shot while I’m flying.

I like choosing the angle.

I like using the camera I have in the moment.

I like having options while I’m actually outside.

That’s one of the reasons I like drones with multiple camera options or zoom.

Not because every drone needs to be my drone.

Not because the Air 3S is the cat’s ass and everyone else can pack up and go home.

People like different tools.

Some people prefer smaller drones.

Some people prefer FPV.

Some people prefer the Mini line.

Some people probably look at the Avata 360 and think, “Finally, this is exactly what I wanted.”

That’s fine.

But for me, I like having camera choices while I’m flying.

A wide shot.

A tighter shot.

A different feel.

A little compression.

A way to frame something without physically shoving the drone closer than I need to.

That feels natural to me.

A 360 drone gives you choices after flying.

That is powerful.

It is also suspiciously close to giving myself more chores.

And I do not need more chores.

I have a house, a kid, a job, a website, a pile of footage, and enough half-finished ideas already circling me like seagulls around a dropped french fry.

I do not need a drone that says, “Don’t worry, you can figure it out later.”

Later is where dreams go to die.

FPV Might Be Fun as Hell

I should be honest here.

I’m probably being a bit full of shit.

I haven’t really given FPV a fair shot.

I’m sure it’s fun as hell.

There is a very real chance I try it someday and immediately understand why people lose their minds over it.

The Neo 2 makes that road pretty tempting too. It’s sitting there like a gateway drug with prop guards, and my kid would probably think goggles are the greatest thing ever invented.

So yes, we may go down that road at some point.

I may eventually strap screens to my skull, fly around like a caffeinated mosquito, and become exactly the kind of person I’m making fun of right now.

That would be very on brand.

But right now?

No.

I’m pretty happy flying the old-fashioned way.

And by old-fashioned, I mean using an extremely advanced flying camera controlled by satellites, sensors, software, and a tiny screen in my hands.

Basically pioneer living.

Is This Drone for Me?

Fuck no.

Let’s not get cute about it.

There is no realistic scenario where I buy the DJI Avata 360 right now.

Not because it’s bad.

Not because it isn’t impressive.

Not because I don’t understand why people want it.

Actually, that’s not totally true.

I kind of don’t understand why people want it.

I understand the cool footage part.

I understand the “look what this thing can do” part.

I understand the creator-flex part.

I understand that some people love FPV, editing, reframing, and turning every flight into a tiny cinematic acid trip.

But for me?

Nope.

This is the most useless piece of amazing technology I can imagine owning.

It’s impressive.

It’s clever.

It’s probably capable of creating footage that makes people stop scrolling.

And I still don’t want it.

Because everything about it sounds like the exact version of drone flying I’m trying not to turn this into.

I do not want more goggles.

I do not want more screens.

I do not want more file management.

I do not want more editing homework.

I do not want to finally drag my carcass out of the house, get myself down to a beautiful Vancouver Island beach, sit on a piece of driftwood, look at the ocean, and then immediately strap a screen to my skull like a middle-aged cyborg with poor posture.

That is not the dream.

That is not why I bought a drone.

For some people, this thing is probably perfect.

FPV people? Absolutely.

Action creators? Sure.

People who love editing, reframing, keyframes, exports, and turning one flight into 19 different clips? Fill your boots.

But me?

I already have enough footage sitting on hard drives waiting for Future Ryan to become a better person.

Future Ryan is not coming.

He’s tired.

He has coffee.

He has excuses.

And he sure as hell does not need 8K 360 footage waiting for him like a digital unpaid bill.

The Avata 360 might be brilliant.

It might be one of the coolest consumer drones DJI has made in years.

But for me, it looks like a beautiful little trap.

A trap with goggles.

A trap with keyframes.

A trap with a progress bar.

A trap that says, “Don’t worry, you can fix it in post,” which is one of the most dangerous sentences in the English language.

So no.

This is not the drone for me.

Not unless I wake up one day and decide what my life is really missing is more screen time, more editing, and a headset that makes me look like I’m beta testing anxiety.

The Bottom Line

The DJI Avata 360 is probably brilliant.

It can capture wild footage.

It answers the Antigravity curveball.

It pushes consumer drones somewhere new.

And for the right person, it might be exactly the kind of flying they’ve been waiting for.

But for me?

Absolutely not.

I finally got my carcass outside.

I’m standing in a beautiful place.

I want to look at the ocean, fly the drone, get the shot, and go home with something I can actually use without adopting a whole new editing religion.

Cool drone.

Cool footage.

Cool idea.

Still not buying it.

Damn kids and your technology.

What Do You Think?

Am I being an old man yelling at a cloud here, or does the Avata 360 also look like a very cool way to buy yourself more screen time and editing homework?

If you’re an FPV person, I’m genuinely curious what I’m missing.

If you’re like me and the idea of strapping screens to your skull at the beach makes your soul leave your body a little bit, I’d also like to hear that.

Drop a comment below. Convince me I’m wrong, or join me on the digital lawn with a fistful of complaints.