In a blow to Elon Musk’s interplanetary ambitions that could only be described as ‘a billionaire’s pocket money going astray,’ SpaceX has announced a delay to its Starship programme, citing a share sale that has distracted chief attention away from rocketry and towards balance sheets. Meanwhile, the UK space industry, in a development that has surprised absolutely no one except those who still believe British industry can do anything other than make tea and apologise, has reportedly gained a competitive edge. Yes, you read that correctly. The nation that brought you the Spitfire, the hovercraft, and the truly terrible phenomenon of the ‘sausage roll’ is now apparently leading the charge in the final frontier.
Let us pause to consider the magnificent irony of the situation. Here we have Musk, a man who once promised to colonise Mars by 2025 (a deadline that now seems as realistic as the promise of a politician’s integrity), forced to put his big boy rocket on hold because investors are demanding their pound of flesh. Or rather, their share of the equity. The news comes as SpaceX conducts a secondary share sale that values the company at a cool $180 billion, give or take a few billion. Because nothing says ‘revolutionary space exploration’ like a multi-billion-dollar valuation managed by a team of accountants who have never so much as glimpsed the stars through a telescope.
Meanwhile, in a corner of the cosmos that looks suspiciously like a rainy business park in Stevenage, the UK space industry is rubbing its hands together with glee. According to a report from the ever-reliable, ever-slightly-depressing-sounding UK Space Agency, the British space sector is now worth over £17.5 billion, employing some 47,000 people. And while our American cousins are busy delaying their Starship to play with their share certificates, British engineers are beavering away on everything from satellite technology to space debris removal. Because naturally, the British approach to space is to tidy up after everyone else’s mess. It is the cosmic equivalent of offering to do the washing up while the party rages on.
But let us not get carried away. The UK’s ‘competitive edge’ is, at present, about as sharp as a blancmange. We have yet to launch a single astronaut into orbit from British soil (the proposed spaceports in Cornwall and Scotland are still awaiting their inaugural flights, delayed by, wait for it, regulatory hurdles and a planning inquiry that would have made Kafka wince). Meanwhile, Musk’s Starship, despite its delays, remains the most powerful rocket ever built, capable of carrying 100 people to Mars. Or, as its current timeline suggests, capable of carrying a few dozen investors to a very comfortable retirement.
But still, we must savour this moment. For once, the British space industry can look across the Atlantic and say, ‘We are not the ones with a delayed rocket.’ True, we are not the ones with a rocket at all, but let us not allow details to spoil the narrative. In the great game of space, perception is everything. And right now, the perception is that Elon Musk is distracted by his share sale, while British engineers are perfecting the art of making a satellite that can survive a trip to orbit without requiring a mortgage on the entire United Kingdom.
So raise a glass of gin (because what else would one drink while contemplating the cosmos?) to the UK space industry. Its competitive edge may be the result of someone else’s misfortune, but in the brutal world of interplanetary economics, you take your wins where you can get them. Even if they are about as exciting as a stamp collection compared to the explosion of a Starship. And if that explosion comes with a side order of share sale, so much the better. For the British, a slow and steady march to space is far preferable to the garish, billionaire-funded spectacle that characterises the American approach. That, or we simply cannot afford the ticket.
