DELAY SPACE TRAVEL

“Behold the astronaut, fully equipped for duty: a scaly creature, more like an oversized ant than a primate – certainly not a naked god. To survive on the moon he must be encased in an even more heavily insulated garment and become a kind of faceless ambulatory mummy.” — Lewis Mumford

Space—the final frontier, the cosmic sandbox where billionaires launch themselves in phallic rockets while the rest of us try to afford rent. There’s something both awe-inspiring and deeply absurd about humanity’s obsession with colonizing other planets while we’re actively torching the one we’ve got. It’s like setting your house on fire and then Googling, “cheap apartments on Mars.”

Space travel represents humanity’s thirst for discovery, a bold leap into the unknown. The Apollo missions, the Hubble Telescope, Voyager’s Golden Record—these are triumphs of curiosity and ingenuity. They remind us that we’re part of something vast and mysterious. That’s beautiful. The problem isn’t the dream itself; it’s the delusion baked into it.

What drives much of modern space exploration? Earth is doomed, so let’s find a backup planet. Elon Musk, ever the optimist, envisions a self-sustaining colony on Mars to safeguard humanity’s future. This sounds inspiring until you realize that Mars is an uninhabitable hellscape with no breathable air, lethal radiation levels, and temperatures that make Antarctica look cozy. If we can’t manage a planet that literally grows food, what makes us think we can handle one that requires a spacesuit just to take a stroll?

This is the heart of the problem: space colonization is often framed not as exploration, but as an escape plan. It’s the cosmic equivalent of avoiding therapy by moving to a new city. But wherever you go, there you are—along with all your unresolved issues. Deforestation, pollution, resource extraction, social inequality—these aren’t Earth problems; they’re human problems. If we don’t address them here, we’ll just pack them up and ship them to Mars, like interplanetary baggage.

There’s also the environmental cost of space travel itself. Rocket launches release massive amounts of carbon dioxide, black carbon, and other pollutants into the upper atmosphere, where they linger and contribute to climate change. A 2022 study published in Earth’s Future warned that the growing space industry could significantly damage the ozone layer if left unchecked. In our rush to leave Earth, we’re making it less habitable—talk about missing the point.

Economically, space exploration often serves as a distraction from urgent terrestrial issues. The U.S. spends billions on NASA and private space ventures while underfunding basic infrastructure, education, and healthcare. In The Ministry for the Future, Kim Stanley Robinson imagines a future where climate crises force humanity to prioritize planetary stewardship over space fantasies. It’s a sobering reminder that no amount of scientific achievement can compensate for political failure.

Culturally, the space race perpetuates colonialist mindsets. The language of “conquering” Mars, “terraforming” planets, and “claiming” resources echoes the same extractive logic that devastated Indigenous lands on Earth. As Indigenous scholar Kyle Powys Whyte argues, space colonization rhetoric often ignores the historical trauma of colonization, framing it as heroic rather than exploitative. The idea that we can simply move on to a new world, leaving behind a trail of environmental destruction, is not progress—it’s denial on a galactic scale.

The allure of space exploration is often framed as humanity’s next great evolutionary step—our inevitable expansion beyond Earth, fulfilling some cosmic manifest destiny. But there’s a fundamental flaw in this reasoning: evolution isn’t about spreading outward; it’s about adapting to one’s environment. Every species that has ever thrived has done so by learning to live in balance with its surroundings, not by abandoning them at the first sign of difficulty. If we cannot adapt to the planet that birthed us, what makes us think we can master the vastly harsher realities of space? The idea that we can simply “start fresh” on another world is not scientific progress—it’s the same old hubris that has led civilizations to collapse time and time again.

There is also a philosophical dimension to this impulse. Space is often romanticized as a place of endless possibility, where human ingenuity can overcome all obstacles. But what if space is not a blank slate for us to project our ambitions onto, but a reminder of our smallness and our need for humility? The Taoist perspective sees the universe not as something to be conquered, but as something to be in harmony with. In this view, the lesson of space is not expansion, but reflection. Before we rush outward, we must ask: what are we bringing with us?

Consider the difference between the Voyager missions and the current space race. Voyager carried messages of peace, art, and curiosity—a testament to humanity’s desire to connect with the universe. In contrast, today’s space ventures are driven by corporate interests, with billionaires competing to see who can spend the most money reaching the edge of space in the shortest amount of time. It’s like the difference between climbing a mountain for the view versus climbing it to plant a flag and sell naming rights.

This doesn’t mean we should abandon space exploration entirely. Scientific missions that expand our understanding of the universe—telescopes, robotic probes, planetary research—are invaluable. Asteroid deflection is essential. But colonization? Commercial tourism? Mining asteroids for profit while Earth burns? That’s not exploration; it’s escapism dressed up as destiny.

The real frontier isn’t out there. It’s right here—learning how to live sustainably, equitably, and peacefully on the only planet that, so far, doesn’t try to kill us the moment we step outside.

Therefore, under Folklaw:

All space exploration initiatives shall be limited to scientific research, environmental monitoring, asteroid deflection, and international cooperation. Colonization of other planets, commercial space tourism, and resource extraction beyond Earth’s orbit will be prohibited until humanity demonstrates sustainable stewardship of Earth.

Private ownership of celestial bodies or resources will be banned. Funding for space programs will prioritize Earth-focused missions, including climate science and planetary defense. All space technologies must meet strict environmental standards to minimize pollution.

Additionally, space exploration efforts will require ethical review panels to ensure they align with the principles of planetary preservation and global equity.