In 1962, President John F. Kennedy famously described venturing into space as “the most hazardous and dangerous and greatest adventure on which man has ever embarked.” Echoing mountaineer George Mallory’s legendary reason for climbing Everest — “because it is there” — Kennedy captured a spirit of human ambition that transcended national borders. Although the Cold War rivalry between the United States and the Soviet Union largely fueled the early space race, ordinary people around the globe still marveled at humanity’s early triumphs, from Sputnik’s first beep to Apollo’s giant leap.
Today, fascination with space has only grown. Billions watch live as SpaceX rockets return to Earth for reuse, as rovers prowl the Martian surface, and as probes land on distant comets traveling at incomprehensible speeds. Each new milestone continues to inspire awe and wonder.
Yet a growing ideological critique, especially from some on the political left, challenges the very premise of space exploration. Critics argue that it is an extravagant distraction from pressing Earthly concerns — worsening climate change, poverty, and inequality — and an extension of colonial, extractivist mentalities. Scholars like Deondre Smiles and Alina Utrata highlight the colonial legacies embedded in the narrative of off-world expansion, warning against repeating the sins of history, even if this time it is barren rocks rather than indigenous peoples being claimed.
At the same time, a wave of cynicism mocks the failures of private companies like SpaceX, often colored by political disdain for figures like Elon Musk. However, this critique sometimes misunderstands the nature of technological progress, where frequent failure is not just expected but necessary for innovation.
Beneath the surface, however, lies a more serious debate: should humanity prioritize fixing Earth before setting its sights on the stars? Authors like Kim Stanley Robinson and even Star Trek’s own William Shatner — who described his real-life trip to space as witnessing “death” rather than the majestic vistas he anticipated — caution against romanticizing space as an escape from Earth’s problems.
Yet rejecting space exploration outright could inadvertently undermine efforts to address those very problems. Space technologies are deeply intertwined with environmental and social progress. Research on Venus’s greenhouse effect inspired early climate science. Earth-monitoring satellites such as those from NASA’s Landsat program enable the tracking of deforestation, droughts, and pollution. Remote sensing from space helps farmers conserve water, monitor crop health, and minimize pesticide use — crucial in fighting biodiversity loss and food insecurity.
Space science has also revolutionized epidemiology. Satellite data helps monitor the spread of diseases like malaria and track patterns linked to public health crises, offering early warning systems that save countless lives.
Moreover, despite the attention given to billionaires in the space race, much of the heavy lifting has always been done by publicly funded agencies. SpaceX and other private companies build on decades of government-led research and rely on public contracts, grants, and subsidies. True progress demands a public-centered approach to space, one that prioritizes collective benefit over private profit.
One clear example of this need is the growing problem of “satellite pollution.” As more small satellites flood low-Earth orbit, the reflective debris increasingly hampers astronomical observations. Scientists are already calling for regulatory caps to preserve humanity’s ability to observe the universe — an effort unlikely to be championed by profit-driven firms without strong public oversight.
Thus, the real choice is not between capitalist space expansion or anti-space nihilism. It’s between privatized, uncontrolled exploitation and a democratic, regulated, public-driven exploration program. In short, a left-wing case for space is not only possible but urgently needed.
While it’s legitimate to question government priorities — especially when so many people still lack basic services — the idea that we must choose between fixing Earth and exploring space is a false dichotomy. For instance, NASA’s 2024 budget is $25 billion, a small fraction compared to the U.S. Department of Defense’s $2 trillion allocation. Europe’s space spending is similarly dwarfed by its military budgets.
We can afford spacecraft and new hospitals. We can invest in satellite-based climate monitoring and clean drinking water. And beyond basic needs, societies also require wonder, inspiration, and the pursuit of knowledge — qualities that music, art, and space exploration all uniquely provide.
If humanity waits to explore the cosmos until every global injustice is resolved, we may wait forever. Instead, a just, sustainable, public-centered space program can help us safeguard Earth while reaching for the stars.
