Unpopular opinion—we don’t need to celebrate every milestone involving women as a ‘feminist achievement’. Especially when that “milestone” is a pop star and her fabulously rich companions riding a rocket for eleven minutes. Katy Perry’s much-hyped space excursion with her “girl gang”—featuring Lauren Sanchez, Gayle King, and aerospace engineer-turned-entrepreneur Aisha Bowe—has been labelled by some as a landmark for women in space. But let’s call this what it really is: a commercial for space tourism, dressed up as ‘Girl Power’.
A few weeks ago, I had the absolute misfortune of reading their group interview with Elle Magazine, which reads more like a marketing brief for a beauty brand than a meaningful discussion of gender or science. Here’s a sampling of the commentary:
“I was like, what am I gonna wear? Space is going to finally be glam. We’re going to put the ‘ass’ in astronaut.” —Katy Perry
“I also wanted to test out my hair and make sure that it was okay. So I skydived in Dubai with similar hair to make sure I would be good.” —Aisha Bowe
“We’re going to have lash extensions flying in the capsule!” —Lauren Sanchez
“Will the lashes stay on? I’m curious.” —Gayle King
This would all be hilarious if it weren’t so revealing. Pop culture feminism and corporate capitalism make a truly insufferable duo. There’s something profoundly dystopian about turning spaceflight—once the domain of human curiosity, scientific innovation, and geopolitical rivalry—into a designer joyride for billionaires and celebrities. “Yay, feminism!” we’re told, because now women, too, get to participate in hyper-consumerist eco-disaster and vanity-fuelled spectacle.
But let’s dig into this beyond the glitter. This is not science. These women are passengers, not pilots or researchers. The Blue Origin rocket they boarded was fully autonomous, meaning there’s no crew navigating the mission. They aren’t contributing to research funds, testing new technology, or expanding human knowledge—they’re space tourists, along for the ride, which happens to cost tens of millions of dollars per seat. This isn’t a feminist breakthrough; it’s the commodification of space.
When we confuse representation with liberation, we get spectacles like this. Feminism is not just about seeing women in high places—especially when those women are already millionaires or billionaires enjoying luxuries inaccessible to 99% of the world. The idea that this somehow advances gender equality is naïve at best and manipulative at worst. It reinforces a capitalism-approved version of feminism: one that sells empowerment through consumption, instead of dismantling systemic barriers.
Space Tourism and the Economics of Exclusion
Space tourism, as currently structured, is not necessarily about innovation—it’s about exclusivity. Companies like Blue Origin and SpaceX are spearheading the privatization* of space under the guise of progress, but the reality is far less utopian. Each launch emits hundreds of tons of carbon dioxide, black particulates, and other pollutants into the troposphere, where their environmental impact is magnified. These emissions aren’t yet regulated in the same way commercial aviation is, since the industry is relatively nascent*, creating a loophole that billionaires get to exploit in the name of “exploration.”
The high cost of entry ensures that only the super-wealthy can participate. This isn’t about expanding humanity’s reach—it’s about expanding luxury markets. As with all things under late-stage capitalism, the initial “elite” model will eventually trickle down just enough to sell to the upper-middle class, leaving the rest to watch from a rapidly warming Earth.
And let’s not ignore the implications for inequality. As investment floods into private aerospace, governments are increasingly sidelining public space agencies. Scientific missions that once advanced global knowledge now compete for funding with brand projects and PR stunts. The symbolic and economic value of space is being auctioned off to those who can afford to turn it into their next Instagram story.
The Feminist Façade
So, labelling Katy Perry’s interstellar joyride as a win for women’s empowerment is part of a bigger issue: slapping a feminist label onto consumerist spectacle to make it palatable.
Then, we need to ask: Who benefits from this? What are the economic incentives? Who is left behind? And at what cost?
High-profile excursions like this one serve not only as PR tools for the individuals involved but also as promotional campaigns for the emerging ‘astro-tourism’ industry, which is projected to become a multi-billion-dollar market by the end of the decade. For billionaires and corporate stakeholders, marketing these ventures as symbols of empowerment—particularly female empowerment—is a calculated move to create cultural approval and dilute any public opposition. This branding tactic aligns with what neo-philosophers term “commodity feminism”—where feminist ideals are stripped of political context and repackaged as consumer choices. Within this framework, space tourism is reimagined not as a glaring display of wealth inequality, but as a glamorous opportunity to “break barriers.” In reality this only shields the economic agenda behind the spectacle.
The decision to send a wealthy and well-known group of women to space is not incidental—it is a marketing strategy. The private space industry, which is led by companies like Blue Origin, Virgin Galactic, and SpaceX, operates within an investment-driven growth model. To justify astronomical valuations and secure ongoing venture capital, these companies must demonstrate not only technological capability but public interest and future profitability. Visibility and media attention are critical to their economic narrative.
By aligning their missions with feminist ideology, space corporations can:
- Appeal to younger, socially-conscious demographics
- Attract sponsorships and partnerships with brands invested in the optics of diversity and inclusion.
- Generate positive sentiment that offsets concerns about environmental impact, tax evasion, or labour exploitation.
This is part of a broader strategy known in marketing as “value signalling”—using socially progressive language or imagery to enhance brand reputation without changing the production process.
The Cost to Society
Meanwhile, the socioeconomic implications for the more general public are… not good.
First, the opportunity cost* that comes with space tourism is huge. Every dollar funnelled into suborbital excursions is a dollar not spent on public infrastructure, healthcare, or green energy. These ventures are heavily subsidized, either directly or indirectly, through government contracts, tax incentives, and the public R&D* on which they rely. This effectively means that public resources help finance private luxury, while ordinary people are told to tighten their belts.
Second, the normalization of billionaire spaceflight creates a new aspirational economy—a culture that equates wealth with progress, quite literally. As space tourism becomes more mainstream in media, the socioeconomic divide is reified as a physical boundary: some people reach orbit; the rest stay behind to manage the fallout of a warming planet and dwindling resources.
More worryingly, this signals a potential future where elite escape becomes not only feasible but socially accepted. As the climate crisis gets worse, the idea of space as a “Plan B” is being actively explored—coincidentally by the same individuals who are accelerating Earth’s ecological degradation. The implication is clear: the wealthy will invest in planetary exit strategies while the working class is left to endure worsening conditions.
So, representation without redistribution is hollow. When space becomes a luxury market instead of a public good, and feminism is reduced to the optics of inclusion rather than systemic equity, we are not moving forward—we are dressing inequality in designer spacesuits.
The feminist façade of space tourism asks us to celebrate visibility at the expense of substance. But true feminist economics is concerned with labour equity, environmental justice, and democratic access to innovation—not vanity flights that reinforce the worst aspects of capitalist culture.
*Privatisation – when a certain operation, sector or business previously managed by the government becomes owned by a private, non-governmental party.
*Nascent – in the early stages of development.
*Opportunity cost – the value of the next best alternative you give up when making a decision.
*R&D – research and development
