Using data from the James Webb Space Telescope’s first year of interstellar observation, an international team of researchers was able to serendipitously view an exploding supernova in a faraway spiral galaxy. Credit: NASA STSCI
Using data from the James Webb Space Telescope’s first year of interstellar observation, an international team of researchers was able to serendipitously view an exploding supernova in a faraway spiral galaxy. Credit: NASA STSCI

There was a time when looking up at the night sky stirred a visceral sense of wonder. The moon landing, the Shuttle launches, the Voyager missions — these were moments that gripped the public imagination and filled people with a sense of shared destiny beyond Earth. But somewhere along the way, something shifted. Despite unprecedented achievements in the 21st century, we seem to have lost our collective awe when it comes to space.

Perhaps no single achievement better illustrates this paradox than the International Space Station (ISS). Orbiting 250 miles above Earth, the ISS has been continuously inhabited since November 1, 2000 — marking more than two decades of uninterrupted human presence in space. That fact alone should be extraordinary. For nearly 25 years, men and women from around the globe have lived and worked off-Earth, conducting research, fostering international cooperation and laying the groundwork for humanity’s future in space. Yet outside of niche science communities and aerospace circles, this historic milestone passes largely unnoticed.

Space achievements since 2000: a golden era ignored

The years since the turn of the millennium have been nothing short of a golden age for space science and exploration. Beyond the ISS, the list of accomplishments is staggering:

  • In 2004, NASA’s twin Mars rovers, Spirit and Opportunity, landed on the Red Planet. Opportunity was expected to last 90 days; it continued to operate for nearly 15 years, sending back breathtaking images and rewriting planetary science textbooks.
  • In 2015, New Horizons flew past Pluto, giving humanity its first close-up views of the dwarf planet — revealing icy mountain ranges and mysterious heart-shaped plains.
  • In 2012, SpaceX’s Dragon capsule became the first commercial spacecraft to deliver cargo to the ISS, launching a new era of private-sector spaceflight.
  • In 2021, Perseverance landed on Mars, complete with Ingenuity, a helicopter that became the first aircraft to fly on another planet.
  • Later in 2021, NASA launched the James Webb Space Telescope, which has since delivered unprecedented images of distant galaxies, offering glimpses of the universe as it looked over 13 billion years ago.

While these achievements can capture the public’s attention, there are literally hundreds — or maybe thousands — of perhaps slightly less miraculous achievements by the space industry that have simply become commonplace. Why?

The decline of space awe

Cowboy. Baseball player. Astronaut. For a young boy in the middle of the 20th century, those were the dream jobs. Now it’s probably content creator, crypto trader or startup founder. But aside from changing employment opportunities there are other reasons the awe has disappeared. Like most things in life the answer isn’t “this” or “that,” it’s all of the above. We live in a fractured, politicized world where many people are dealing with their own personalized existential crises and don’t have the time or interest to contemplate the cosmos. Here are several, but certainly not the only, reasons space no longer enthralls people as it once did.

1. The normalization of the extraordinary

In an age of rapid technological advancement, miracles have become mundane. The first moon landing was watched live by over 600 million people because it was unprecedented and symbolic. Today, with hundreds of satellites launched yearly and astronauts tweeting from orbit, the exceptional has become routine. The ISS, instead of being revered as a modern marvel, has become wallpaper to our digital lives — always there, rarely noticed. It’s hard to believe, but virtual and fictional spectacles capture popular attention now more than the real hard sciences.

2. Our reality caught up with our fiction

During the Golden Age of science fiction (1930s-40s), the ideas of going to space, walking on the moon, or even having a phone in your pocket were pure fantasy. Now these things have all come to fruition, but they haven’t really been replaced by new challenges and technologies. The ISS doesn’t seem quite as amazing when we’ve all seen movies that present a similar vision. While authors still write space operas, many of today’s most well-known science fiction writers have instead focused on stories grounded on Earth with speculative technology more focused on AI or biotech. 

3. Fragmented media attention

The Apollo era had three television networks and a unified national narrative. Today, the media landscape is fractured, and attention is splintered across a thousand platforms. A Mars rover landing has to compete with celebrity scandals, political drama and viral cat videos. Without sustained storytelling and context, space missions lack staying power in the public mind.

4. The absence of clear, dramatic milestones

Landing on the moon was a singular, dramatic goal. The ISS, for all its significance, was a gradual, collaborative endeavor. Space exploration today is incremental — rich in science, but low in cinematic drama. People are drawn to narrative arcs, not data sets. Without a climactic “first,” it’s harder to generate emotional investment. This is perhaps why Elon Musk’s statements about colonizing Mars receive so much attention. Regardless of the feasibility, the idea is easy to understand and would mark a clear and obvious milestone for humankind.

5. A lack of personal connection

The Apollo astronauts were national heroes. Today’s astronauts are often quietly competent scientists and engineers — remarkable individuals, but not mythologized in the same way. The lack of personalized storytelling has made it harder for the public to emotionally invest in their journeys. Consider a move like “The Right Stuff.” Those astronauts took on almost mythic proportions. Compare that to the (fictional) astronaut portrayed by Matt Damon in “The Martian.” He wasn’t an ace fighter pilot, breaking the sound barrier before rocketing to the moon. He was a botanist.

6. Existential distraction

Climate change, pandemics, social unrest and economic instability have turned humanity’s gaze inward. Space, once seen as a hopeful frontier, now feels distant and indulgent to many. Why dream of Mars when Earth itself feels so precarious? For many, any endeavor spearheaded by Elon Musk or Jeff Bezos is automatically tainted. Their efforts are met not with admiration but with questions about why they are not doing more to help people on this planet.

Reclaiming the awe

Despite these challenges, the potential to reignite space-based awe is real — and necessary. Awe isn’t just a luxury; it’s a cultural engine. It fuels STEM careers, long-term thinking, international cooperation and planetary stewardship. This is a time when we need storytellers more than ever in the space industry. Filmmakers, documentarians, authors, musicians and, yes, content creators, startup founders and public relations executives. They can all play a role in making space the place once again. Here’s how we might recover it:

1. Tell better stories

We need compelling narratives, not just press releases. Documentaries like “Apollo 11” and “The Farthest” show that emotional, human-centered storytelling can make space thrilling again. Space agencies and private firms should prioritize narrative just as much as they prioritize launch windows.

I can’t overstate how important this is. Humans are drawn to stories; they are how we interpret our world. The technology will take astronauts to space, but the stories will take everyone else.

2. Create clear, bold goals

NASA’s Artemis program is a step in the right direction. But it needs to be marketed not just as a return to the moon, but as the beginning of a permanent human expansion into space. We need boldness — plans that stretch not just engineering capabilities, but imaginations. “Bootprints on Mars by 2040” should be a dinner-table topic.

3. Reframe space as urgent, not optional

We must stop treating space as an escape plan or a billionaire’s playground. It’s a laboratory for solving Earth’s greatest challenges: climate science, food security, renewable energy and robotics all benefit from space innovation. If space feels like a luxury, it’s only because the message has been mismanaged. There should be efforts to explain that what happens in space doesn’t stay in space, it comes back to Earth and benefits everyone.

4. Make space personally accessible

The space sector should create ways for ordinary people to participate. Imagine a real-time ISS dashboard in classrooms or AR apps that let anyone walk the surface of Mars. Let’s give people a window, no, a portal, into the cosmos. When you see your planet from orbit, even virtually, your perspective changes.

5. Show the public the bodies of aliens kept in Area 51

Ok, this one is tongue in cheek, but it’s a reminder that the space industry shouldn’t take itself too seriously. We still need mystery and adventure to be part of the story.

A challenge to the space industry: build for wonder

I now issue a challenge, not to governments alone, but to the entire space ecosystem: build for wonder. Don’t just build the next telescope, launch system or habitat. Build the emotional scaffolding that connects people on Earth to the work you’re doing in orbit or beyond.

Every agency and private company should be asking: How will this mission inspire a 10-year-old? How will it feel 50 years from now in the history books?

Launches should be public events again. Landings should be live-streamed in schools. Astronauts should be household names, not footnotes. The real payload isn’t just science — it’s significance.

A global moment of perspective

I propose something radical, yet achievable: a Global Earthrise Day. One day each year, every space agency, telescope, satellite feed and educational institution pauses to stream Earth from space in real time.

From the ISS cupola. From weather satellites. From deep-space observatories. Everywhere possible.

A unified broadcast to remind us that we share one fragile planet, and that we’ve already made the leap to living off of it. If we want to feel awe again, let’s not wait for Mars — we can feel it by simply seeing ourselves from above.

The awe of space has not disappeared — it’s been smothered under information overload, poor storytelling and shifting societal priorities. But it’s there, waiting to be rekindled. As we stand at the edge of a new era — moon bases, Mars habitats, commercial spaceflight and interstellar telescopes — we have a chance to reawaken the wonder. To look up, once again, not with apathy, but with awe.

Rick Liebling is a vice president at VSC, a public relations agency that specializes in working with tech startups. His experience includes working with clients across a variety of industries and verticals, including space, AI, Web3, mobility and sustainability and climate tech. 

SpaceNews is committed to publishing our community’s diverse perspectives. Whether you’re an academic, executive, engineer or even just a concerned citizen of the cosmos, send your arguments and viewpoints to opinion@spacenews.com to be considered for publication online or in our next magazine. The perspectives shared in these op-eds are solely those of the authors.

Rick Liebling is a vice president at VSC, a public relations agency that specializes in working with tech startups. His experience includes working with clients across a variety of industries and verticals, including space, AI, Web3, mobility, and sustainability...