STATISTICALLY, AMERICANS LOVE space. Anecdotally, they hate it when billionaires go there. Majorities of all parties, genders, and geographies tell pollsters they support U.S. missions to the moon and Mars, and three-quarters say that the effort to land the first men on the moon was worth it. But last year, when the big three spacefaring billionaires—Virgin’s Richard Branson, Amazon’s Jeff Bezos, and Tesla’s Elon Musk—managed successful manned missions in rapid succession, Twitter (and Congress) were bursting with rage.
Every corner of the internet was filled with the same hot takes. Sen. Bernie Sanders (I–Vt.) made a choleric announcement, for example, that “it’s time to tax the billionaires” because “here on Earth, in the richest country on the planet, half our people live paycheck to paycheck, people are struggling to feed themselves, struggling to see a doctor—but hey, the richest guys in the world are off in outer space!” This tweet from a self-described anti-capitalist went viral: “I actually don’t think we’re angry enough about rich people going to space while the world burns.” Another Twitter user requested in poem form that “perhaps billionaires/Could solve problems on earth/Rather/than race to space/For their egos.” There were also an astonishingly large number of dick jokes.
But the case against space billionaires falls apart on closer scrutiny. At worst, the private space race is no more frivolous or wasteful than other, more mundane business, philanthropic,
