The mainstream media’s recent celebration of Blue Origin’s all-female celebrity spaceflight is a perfect example of spectacle being mistaken for substance. Six women—among them pop star Katy Perry, CBS anchor Gayle King, and Lauren Sanchez, best known as Jeff Bezos’s fiancée—rocketed just past the edge of space for a total of eleven minutes. The event was breathlessly hailed as “historic,” but let’s be honest: calling this a milestone is like calling a luxury cruise a maritime breakthrough. The reality is that space tourism, thanks to billionaire-funded rockets, is now so accessible that even YouTubers and nonagenarians like William Shatner have done it. The bar for “history” has never been lower.
This wasn’t a mission of scientific discovery or national achievement. It was a high-altitude joyride for the privileged and well-connected, with the media fawning over every moment as if these celebrities had risked life and limb to push the boundaries of human knowledge. Katy Perry’s post-flight remarks about feeling “super-connected to love” and Gayle King’s self-congratulation only underscored the self-indulgence of the affair. Meanwhile, Oprah Winfrey wept on the sidelines, and the press dutifully parroted the narrative that this was a giant leap for womankind. Never mind that the real trailblazers—like Valentina Tereshkova, who spent three days alone in orbit back in 1963—achieved far more with far less fanfare and infinitely more courage.
Even Hollywood’s own couldn’t keep a straight face. Celebrities like Emily Ratajkowski and Olivia Wilde mocked the launch as a tone-deaf waste, questioning the value of burning untold resources for a few viral memes and a round of self-congratulation. Ratajkowski called it “beyond parody,” highlighting the disconnect between the elite’s space tourism and the everyday struggles of ordinary people. The fact that this flight was marketed as a feminist milestone only adds to the irony, considering that real women in STEM—those who design, build, and operate these rockets—rarely get such attention, let alone a seat on the flight.
The truth is, this Blue Origin launch was less about inspiring the next generation and more about selling the fantasy of space to those who can afford the ticket. The participants had no technical responsibilities, no scientific objectives, and no risk beyond what you’d find at a theme park. Their main achievement was to serve as influencers for a billionaire’s brand, not as pioneers blazing a new trail for humanity.
If there’s anything “historic” about this event, it’s the way it exposes the media’s willingness to elevate celebrity spectacle over genuine achievement. Real history is made by those who take risks, break barriers, and advance our civilization—not by those who buy a ticket for a glorified roller coaster ride. Let’s reserve our applause for the true pioneers, and leave the confetti for those who actually move the world forward.