Gayle King, Katy Perry, and a lively collection of passengers took a brief jaunt into the cosmos, billed as an all-female space crew ride. Excuse me, I meant “journey.” Celebrations erupted across the media, trumpeting this ever-so-historic event because, you know, women! However, the alleged history-making event, which lasted all of eleven minutes, has left some of us here scratching our heads and wondering what exactly was accomplished other than a high-priced sightseeing tour.
Now, Gayle King finds herself aggrieved—apparently, amidst all the applause, there simply hasn’t been enough adulation to satisfy her. According to Ms. King, those who fail to shower her with the praises befitting an “astronaut” are undoubtedly guilty of that gravest of sins: sexism. That’s right, if you’re not falling at her feet for achieving what amounts to a space-age joyride, you’re part of the problem.
Gayle insists this trip is nothing shy of retracing the steps of Alan Shepard, a true American hero who braved the vast unknown at a time when venturing into space came with significant risk. Let’s recall that Shepard didn’t vacation among the stars to fulfill a personal bucket list courtesy of a billionaire’s bank account. Comparing this celebrity hop to Shepard’s historic flight is like equating a call on your smartphone to Alexander Graham Bell’s original phone call—a bridge of logic only Ms. King dares to cross.
The drama increases when Gayle bemoans the term “ride,” insisting it diminishes the Blue Origin “mission.” Labelling a tourist outing a mission requires quite the imagination—a Dr. Seuss-level of creative storytelling. It raises the question: Should we now award astronaut wings to airline passengers, for maintaining their bearing on long-haul flights? There were genuinely historic elements to space exploration, not the least in its monumental risks and unknowns, none of which apply to King’s escapade.
A grand opportunity for humility and inspiration was squandered on a platform for ego and grievance. So, dear readers, the next time you hear tell of these “historic” space endeavors, remember: reality and narcissism rarely fly in the same orbit. Instead of gratitude for a billionaire-financed experience, we receive a performative lecture about societal injustices—a real life “Handmaid’s Tale,” indeed.
To all those young girls and boys looking hopefully at this tale, let’s remind them: real astronauts dream, toil, and contribute to humanity’s understanding. Guests receive tickets. Instead of straining the label of “astronaut” beyond recognition, perhaps we should save our admiration for those truly deserving—those whose visits to space echo with deeper purpose and not just the ring of celebrity privilege.
