This past weekend, Blue Origin launched six female celebrities into space. On the surface, it sounds like a celebration of progress — women reaching new heights, breaking barriers, boldly going where few have gone before.
But peel back the glossy headlines and you’ll find something a little less inspiring: yet another reminder that Hollywood entitlement knows no bounds. Not even Earth’s atmosphere.
Blue Origin, Jeff Bezos’ pet project slash rocket company, has become synonymous with commercial space travel — or, depending on how you see it, extremely expensive joyrides for the world’s most wealthy and well-connected. This latest mission didn’t just send celebrities into space. It sent a message: if you’re famous enough, the universe is your playground.
Now, don’t get me wrong — space is cool. Space is the final frontier. Space is the place where you should have to do things like train rigorously, study orbital mechanics, and maybe, not post a TikTok dance mid-flight. But in 2025, apparently all you need is a SAG card and a good PR team.
Some of these women are incredibly accomplished in their fields. Others…well, let’s just say their main achievement is having an IMDB page longer than a CVS receipt. Either way, the optics are clear: we’re no longer celebrating human achievement in space — we’re hosting a red carpet event at 60 miles above sea level.
It’s a shame, really. Space travel used to represent the peak of human ambition, courage, and intellect. It was about pushing the boundaries of what was possible for all humanity. Now, it’s about content.
We could have sent scientists. We could have sent teachers, nurses, underrepresented students, or even just regular people with dreams bigger than their bank accounts. Instead, we’re sending influencers with ring lights packed in their carry-ons.
Of course, the celebrities are just doing what celebrities do: saying yes to outrageous opportunities. I can’t exactly blame them. If someone handed me a ticket to orbit, I’d probably start practicing my zero-gravity hair flip too.
But the system that hands out these opportunities — the one that says fame is more valuable than character, achievement, or sacrifice — that’s what deserves a long, hard look. Preferably from a vantage point a little closer to reality than the Kármán line.
In the end, space isn’t just a destination. It’s a symbol of what we value as a society. And if all we value are Instagram likes and status symbols, well… maybe we’re not ready for the stars after all.
