The future of space, particularly our relationship with low Earth orbit, is explored in a thoughtful documentary by tech journalist Ashlee Vance. As space companies emerge left and right—and technology carries on at an exponential and dizzying speed—where is humanity headed?
_______________
There aren’t any cowboys hats in Wild Wild Space, nor are there scenes of raucous saloons or dusty shootouts. There are, however, plenty of bold and sometimes brash personalities who are hungry to explore uncharted territory, break barriers, and change the world.
Long gone are the days when NASA was the only game in town. Now, private companies like SpaceX are sending rockets and satellites into space at incredible speed, the latter providing broadband internet access to those who would otherwise be without.
As with artificial intelligence, space technology is ripe with a range of use cases. It can help monitor the state of our planet, thereby aiding in the prevention of deforestation and other environmental catastrophes. It can also be used to track persecuted refugees, invade the privacy of millions of citizens, and unleash violent destruction on entire nations.
Like the internet, social media, AI, and virtually every technology that’s ever existed, space technology brings with it a murky and ethically complicated mix of pros and cons.
Wild Wild Space, released in 2024, does a commendable job at highlighting some of these issues as it profiles three main companies: Astra, Rocket Lab, and Planet Labs. As is evident from the first quarter of the film, the personalities behind the companies are markedly different.
There is Chris Kemp of Astra, a confident, animated, capitalist-oriented individual who craves success and recognition above all else. There is Peter Beck, a relatively soft-spoken New Zealander without any formal higher education who has nonetheless created one of the most successful space companies in the world, Rocket Lab. And there is Will Marshall and Robbie Schingler, two of the co-founders of Planet Labs, a company that prides itself on sending satellites into orbit which provide crucial data about Earth’s fragile and irreplaceable environment.
As much as these figures contrast in personality and mission, there’s a common thread between them: NASA. The man responsible for bringing these individuals together (along with many other talented young people) was a man named Peter Worden. An Air Force General with a PhD in astrophysics, Worden had the opportunity to revitalize NASA’s flagging Ames Research Center, located in Silicon Valley.
Unlike Will Marshall and Robbie Schingler, Worden was far from shy about putting weapons in space (he had previously been the head of the Strategic Defense Initiative, more commonly known as Star Wars). The former two found it an ethically “monstrous idea.” But both the elder Worden and the younger and idealistic duo welcomed healthy debate, and when Worden invited them to work at Ames and essentially pursue whatever projects they wanted, they accepted. Chris Kemp was also brought on board.
Peter Beck, the New Zealander, never worked at NASA, but his journey, too, was shaped by it, albeit indirectly. He had traveled to the United States on a kind of “space pilgrimage,” seeking out companies to work for. The NASA he encountered jarred sharply with the innovative NASA of the Apollo years that he had in his mind, a sentiment shared by Marshall, Schingler, and many others. He remembers thinking, “Man, what the hell happened here?” NASA had become bloated with bureaucracy, ingrained in old ways, and seemingly unable to carry out any type of project without spending millions or billions of dollars.
In time, Astra, Rocket Labs, and Planet were born (not to mention SpaceX and Blue Origin), ushering in a new age of private space companies and colossal ambitions. Starlink alone, Vance says, “wants to send more than 40,000 satellites into space in the coming years.” It’s a staggering number, and one that causes concerns for some. There’s a concept called the Kessler effect, which is essentially a chain reaction of ever increasing debris. If this gets out of hand, low Earth orbit can be filled with an unmanageable assortment of debris whizzing along at some 17,000 miles. As Dan Ceperley of LeoLabs sums it up, low earth orbit is “the gateway if you want to go anywhere else in space…So, if it becomes a mess, then we’ve actually limited ourselves to Earth.” If such a scenario ever did take place, it would be a profound irony.
Yet there’s no denying the benefits of satellites. Planet Labs in particular, with their ability to “[image] the entire Earth every single day, has given us “a completely radical new dataset about our changing planet” — data that can help prevent deforestation and improve crop production, among other things. The company’s mission is no doubt a noble one.
Of course, just as technology can be used for tremendous good it can also be used for deeply nefarious purposes. Ever sophisticated satellite imagery can be used to aid in the persecution of Uyghurs in China, or Rohingya in Bangladesh; it can be used to violate human rights at the hands of evil leaders. On the other hand, it can also be used to prove human rights violations and increase transparency.
A quarter way through the 21st century, our hands are becoming increasingly full of powerful technologies and profound questions about how they should, and should not, be used. As is the case with artificial intelligence, the space industry is moving at a pace where laws and regulations scarcely have a shot at keeping up. Wild wild space, indeed.
Spectatio 
You must be logged in to post a comment.