Technological Delusions
On making humans an interplanetary species
The SpaceX Starship, the most powerful rocket ever built, is designed to send humans to the Moon first and later to Mars, potentially making humanity an “interplanetary species,” as SpaceX CEO Elon Musk puts it. It could transform astronautics, astrophysics, astronomy, the global economy, and even the way we perceive our place in the universe. On April 20th, 2023, Starship conducted its first full test, with mixed results: it successfully cleared the launch pad but shortly afterward veered off course and had to be destroyed via an emergency procedure. Such explosions and failed orbital maneuvers are not unusual for rocket prototypes in their testing phase; in fact, they are expected, and SpaceX had prepared for this eventuality.
What was far less expected, however, was that the 32 extremely powerful Raptor engines pulverized concrete and sent debris flying up to 4 kilometers from the launch site, hurling large chunks of concrete, steel sheets, metal, and other objects hundreds of meters across a sensitive, environmentally protected habitat. Fortunately, aside from the rubble, the damage to the landscape was limited. Yet it became abundantly clear that the consequences could have been far worse: if the 3,500-ton propellant of liquid oxygen and methane had detonated in the first seconds of ignition—a scenario not entirely improbable—the damage to the surrounding area could have been catastrophic. In response, five environmental groups sued the Federal Aviation Administration for failing to adequately assess the real potential risks of these rocket launches. It is now unlikely that another Starship will clear the pad anytime soon, not due to technical limitations, but because of environmental and safety concerns.
This episode raised serious, though not entirely new questions, about how much environmental impact we are willing to tolerate in our quest to become an interplanetary species. Should we prioritize environmental preservation and potentially postpone technological progress, or should we pursue rocket launches relentlessly, regardless of the consequences?
As an astronomy and space-travel enthusiast, I strongly support all space-related ventures and believe that both private and government-funded research in this field should face no ideological barriers. Yet the reactions and lines of reasoning that emerged after Starship’s explosion were revealing. They exposed our hyper-technological illusions and a recurring tendency to rationalize reality in ways that allow us to repeat the same risky behaviors.
The typical rationale went something like this:
“Space travel should proceed no matter what the risk and cost. The future of a single planet species is finite, and since we will have to grow exponentially, humanity and the life surrounding us must spread, as far as possible, as much as possible, to every planet of the solar system, to every moon and every planetoid and every asteroid if possible. And humans must do this first and foremost for humanity, and secondly for the ecosystem. And once our foothold is set firm to many other planets, and humanity has made home to so many other places, maybe Mother Earth will be declared a huge eco-park. Moreover, let us recall that there are substantial deposits of minerals on the Moon, Mars, and asteroids. Space mining on a huge scale, and with much more efficient technologies will lead us to become an abundant civilization. Eventually, all mining on Earth is banned forever. No more huge holes everywhere. No human activities except in some big cities. No oil pumping, no polluting with huge industrial buildings. It sounds hard, and maybe it will take some 300 more years, but this is the bright future awaiting us. So, yes, we can sacrifice a natural park, take whatever risks, and let us send to hell all those ‘eco-bureaucrats’ that hamper the technological progress of our space age.”
To some, this might sound perfectly reasonable and technologically feasible, right?
There are two ways to respond to this seemingly rational, materialistic outlook on our future. One is to adopt another equally rational and logical perspective; the other is to go beyond technicalities and embrace a spiritual worldview. Let me begin with the first.
At the core of this mindset lies the unquestioned belief in unlimited expansion and growth. There is a pervasive assumption that the desire to spread and grow endlessly, no matter the cost, is simply part of human nature. If GDP fails to grow each year, we feel on the brink of collapse. Population growth is rarely questioned. Our ever-increasing energy demands are deemed acceptable because nuclear power, and eventually nuclear fusion, will provide limitless energy. And, of course, money is never enough. The world itself is insufficient—we must expand, expand, expand. It is, supposedly, encoded in our genes.
Perhaps. Yet in Nature, there is only one thing that grows exponentially without self-limitation: cancer. And I sincerely hope humanity does not become an “interplanetary cancer.” This mindset underpins the environmental crises we face today and historically justified the worst colonialist and genocidal ideologies. (A gentle reminder: Hitler rationalized his expansionism through the concept of Lebensraum, or “living space.”) It is high time we question for whom—and for what—this ideal of unlimited expansion truly serves.
Secondly, there is far too much unjustified optimism regarding our technological potential. Indeed, it will take centuries before a commercially viable space-mining industry could replace terrestrial mining. Until then, we cannot continue to exploit and ravage the environment for another 300 years—there will be nothing left to preserve as an “eco-park” in the first place.
But this argument is only grounded in a technocratic perspective—a viewpoint that evaluates pros and cons solely in terms of technology and commerce. If humanity hopes to avoid apocalyptic and potentially self-annihilating behaviors, it must adopt a spiritual view of itself, of Nature, and of reality as a whole. By “spiritual,” I mean everything that transcends the merely material, technological, political, or sociological: a perspective that embraces the psychological, existential, philosophical, and even metaphysical dimensions of human life within an evolutionary context.
It should be clear by now that humanity’s inward, psychological, and spiritual progress must complement its outward, technological, and material achievements. We cannot approach the expansion of the human species from Earth to the cosmos solely through the lens of technological capability. The truth is that if we fail to confront and transcend our inner shadows—if we remain selfish, violent, and immature as a species—we will simply export our barbarism across the solar system.
If we do not learn our lessons on Earth, tomorrow we will repeat the same destructive patterns in space. Moral, ethical, and especially spiritual growth must precede the deployment of ever more powerful technologies. Otherwise, we risk becoming parasitic to Nature, inevitably subject to its corrective forces. No amount of science or technological prowess will prevent us from perpetuating primitive desires, exploiting humans and Nature, and creating space colonies that replicate terrestrial barbarism on an interplanetary scale.
We cannot escape the dark side of the human soul by climbing into a rocket. Our past will always follow us, wherever we go, unless we confront it. All the transhumanists who believe humanity will achieve perfection or immortality by uploading consciousness into computers fail to understand themselves—and remain trapped in a 19th- and 20th-century paradigm of technological salvation.
Thus, we must cultivate and advance our inner, spiritual dimension alongside our outer, material achievements. We must explore internal frontiers first, before venturing into outer space. We must learn to address our earthly problems before traveling elsewhere and inadvertently spreading our destructive tendencies to other planets like a virus. The human instinct to look outward—to seek solutions in space for our struggles on Earth—is often just a reflex, a symbol of our refusal to confront our inner shadows and grow from within. Only a less barbaric and psychologically mature species will be able to expand—not like a metastasis, but as a conscious, wise civilization that measures its success not by unlimited growth and consumption, but by self-aware, compassionate unity, and an identification with diversity and Nature.
Only then will it become self-evident and completely natural to perceive our oneness with Nature. This will no longer be poetic abstraction, but intimate, lived experience: Nature within us, and we within Nature. You will no longer need a Ph.D. in environmental science to discern which technologies harm or protect the environment—you will know intuitively, spontaneously. Transitions to more sustainable lifestyles will feel less like burdens and more like exciting new adventures.
The notion that we must first save humanity and only then the ecosystem betrays a lack of inner wisdom. We will recognize that there is no real separation between ourselves and Nature, and that any conception of progress that destroys Earth in the name of human salvation is fundamentally ignorant—both of Nature and of ourselves. True exploration, true advancement, will not come from space mining, but from soul mining.