Feminism at the final frontier

There’s been no shortage of opinion – and vitriol – surrounding Blue Origin’s recent suborbital spaceflight, which carried an all-female civilian crew: Kerianne Flynn, Katy Perry, Lauren Sánchez, Aisha Bowe, Gayle King, and Amanda Nguyễn.

Much of the media and social commentary has focused on the optics of the mission, questioning its framing as a feminist milestone or as a meaningful step forward for gender equity in space.

One article that particularly caught my attention – as I imagine it did for many others working in or adjacent to the space sector – appeared in the Guardian, provocatively titled ‘Blue Origin’s space flight is a giant leap – for Jeff Bezos’s ego, not feminism’

As a journalist covering the international space scene for several decades, I am committed to a broad, international discourse on space, and I believe this kind of cultural commentary deserves engagement, not dismissal.

One of the questions it raises – about symbolism, access and power – matters, especially at this juncture in the evolution of human spaceflight.

At its core, the Guardian article critiques the framing of the latest Blue Origin suborbital mission as a feminist milestone, particularly through the participation of Lauren Sánchez, journalist, private space executive and partner of Jeff Bezos. 

The writer challenges the idea that this spectacle – a high-profile flight on a privately-owned rocket – should be viewed as a triumph of gender progress. And she is right to point out the risk of conflating elite participation with systemic change.

But space, like society, is complicated. The symbols and milestones we project onto it carry weight, even when imperfect. Maybe we should ask: what does it mean to celebrate progress in space – and for whom is it progress?

Yes, there is a performative element to space tourism, especially when conducted by billionaires. But there’s also a very real and rapid shift in who has access to space – not just physically, but through influence, investment and imagination.

The presence of women on a mission like this is worth noting, even as we remain sharply aware of the broader inequities and exclusions in both space exploration and society.

It is no longer just about astronauts from elite military or science backgrounds. The emergence of private crewed spaceflight, for all its awkward growing pains and PR gloss, is undeniably reshaping public perceptions.

The fact that people are now debating whether or not a flight was feminist enough is in itself a sign that space has entered the cultural mainstream in ways we couldn’t have imagined a generation ago.

We can – and should – celebrate the long-overdue recognition of trailblazers like Wally Funk (on a previous Blue Origin flight), without pretending these moments represent full equality in spaceflight. We can acknowledge Lauren Sánchez’s visibility as a woman in the private space sector, without anointing her a feminist icon.

These stories sit on a spectrum, not of “success” or “failure” but of progress and evolution. Representation alone is not the end of the journey but it is a signpost on the road.

It is important to explore issues around gender, identity, power and access in space. True inclusion goes beyond seat assignments – it’s about who builds, who decides, who funds and who dreams.

It’s also about the stories we tell and who gets to tell them. If anything, the Blue Origin flight should remind us to keep pushing for deeper, more structural inclusion in space – for women, for underrepresented communities, for voices outside the billionaires’ club.

In this broader context, current US leadership under the Trump administration is playing a significant role – and may potentially end up with much to answer for. Its return to power coincided with a critical juncture in space governance, where commercial ambition is surging ahead of public policy and global cooperation is giving way to renewed nationalism.

If space is to remain a shared domain – one that reflects collective human progress rather than elite ambition or geopolitical dominance – then leadership matters. Decisions made now about regulation, funding, international partnerships and orbital stewardship will shape who has access to space for decades to come – and under what terms.

As we look ahead to a decade that will likely include permanent lunar infrastructure, space-based manufacturing, and the rise of private space stations, we must keep asking hard questions.

Not just about who’s on board, but who’s left behind – and how we build a spacefaring future that reflects the full diversity of humanity.

Space is not neutral. It reflects the values of those who shape it. Let’s make sure those values are expansive, thoughtful and rooted in something bigger than marketing gloss or curated photo ops.

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Article: Blue Origin’s space flight is a giant leap – for JeffBezos’s ego, not feminism

Caption: NS-31 astronauts celebrate after a successful flight to space (from left): Kerianne Flynn, Katy Perry, Lauren Sánchez, Aisha Bowe, Gayle King and Amanda Nguyễn. (14 April 2025). 

Photo: Blue Origin

Forecasting the unpredictable

 

It’s easy to think of space as distant, something “out there” and far removed from our everyday lives. But in reality, Earth sits within the outer atmosphere of the Sun – and that means we’re constantly exposed to its moods.

As I explored in my recent (Spring 2025) article for ROOM Space Journal, the growing risk posed by solar storms is something we can’t afford to ignore, especially as solar activity ramps up heading toward its next peak in 2025.

Solar storms, or geomagnetic storms, are the result of explosive bursts of energy and charged particles from the Sun, often in the form of coronal mass ejections (CMEs).

When these clouds of plasma reach Earth, they collide with our planet’s magnetic field and can have serious consequences – not just for satellites and astronauts in space, but for the technology we depend on here on the ground.

The most powerful recorded storm, known as the Carrington Event of 1859, caused telegraph systems to spark, fail and in, some cases, catch fire. If something of that magnitude happened today, the impact would be far worse – potentially knocking out power grids, communications systems and disrupting financial markets and aviation.

Our modern world depends on satellites for everything from navigation and internet access to weather forecasting, global banking and national security. We’re far more vulnerable now than we were in 1859 and I wanted to highlight in the article just how interconnected – and fragile – these systems are.

Even a moderate solar storm can cause GPS errors, disrupt aircraft communications on polar routes, or degrade satellite performance. A more powerful storm could take down satellites altogether or induce surges in power grids, leading to blackouts across large regions. The more we depend on space-based infrastructure, the more we stand to lose.

While we’ve made some progress in monitoring solar activity, we’re still not great at forecasting. Tools like NASA’s Parker Solar Probe, SOHO and DSCOVR satellites help scientists track solar conditions in real time, but long-term prediction – on the scale of weeks or months – remains elusive.

The gap between awareness and preparedness is what concerns me most. Many critical services, including some power and satellite operators, are beginning to implement protective measures. But as I discovered while researching the article, there’s still a lack of global coordination, standards, or a unified plan for how we might respond to a truly disruptive solar event.

In the UK, the Met Office Space Weather Operations Centre monitors the Sun and provides alerts, and solar storms are now recognised as a top-tier threat on the UK’s National Risk Register.

That’s a good start. But at a global level, we're still playing catch-up. There’s a real need for coordinated international investment in forecasting, infrastructure resilience and public awareness.

Writing this article was a stark reminder. We are quite literally living in the atmosphere of a star. And that star, while life-giving, is also volatile.

As we send ever more satellites into Earth orbit, and as industries, economies, and daily life rely more on space infrastructure, space weather becomes a shared risk that we can’t ignore.

It’s not about fear – it’s about foresight. Solar storms may sound like the stuff of science fiction, but they’re very real. The next big one isn’t a matter of if, but when.

If you’re interested in the full article, it’s available in the latest issue of ROOM Space Journal. It’s a timely piece, and I hope it adds to the growing conversation around space sustainability and resilience in the space age.

The article was sparked by ‘Life in the Sun’s Atmosphere: From Disruption to Resilience’, a photography-led science communication project by award-winning photographer and creative strategist, Max Alexander.

It was launched at Lloyds of London in March and focuses on the disruption that space weather can and will have on the Earth’s infrastructure and networks.

The Sun is on an 11-year cycle which is building to ‘solar maximum’ later in 2025, when the Sun is at its most active and the threat of damage and disruption from space weather is at its highest.

Shaping space for the future

THE world has changed – or perhaps it is more accurate to say it is constantly changing. Nowhere is this more evident than in the realm of space exploration. As we venture further into 2025, the global landscape continues to shift, reshaping the ambitions and dynamics of the space industry in unexpected ways.

Geopolitics has always played a role in space, but recent developments have heightened its influence. Alliances are being rewritten, national priorities realigned and commercial players are navigating a complex and often turbulent environment.

The repercussions of these tectonic shifts are still unfolding, and the impact on the future of space exploration remains an open question. Will we see a new era of international cooperation, or will space become the next great theatre of geopolitical rivalry? Perhaps, as history suggests, both will coexist in an uneasy balance.

Against this backdrop, ROOM Space Journal remains committed to exploring the ideas and innovations shaping our shared future beyond Earth. In this issue, we take a provocative look ahead, challenging assumptions and pushing the boundaries of imagination.

Our cover image – a pregnant woman in space – is deliberately symbolic, designed to spark discussion rather than declare an imminent reality. Yet, as our lead articles demonstrate, the concept of human reproduction in space, whilst facing many challenges, is not a mere flight of fancy.

It is a serious topic, actively being researched and debated by visionaries, including Asgardia the space nation, whose mission statement includes facilitating the birth of the first human beyond Earth’s gravity. While such an event may still be years – if not decades – away, the implications are profound and demand our attention today.

Meanwhile, back on Earth, we are reminded that space is not just about human aspirations but also about the very real challenges that come with our increasing dependence on satellites and space-related infrastructure.

As we look to the future, agility and specialisation may well define success more than sheer size. One of the more underappreciated yet potentially devastating threats to modern civilisation is the impact of severe space weather, a subject I explore in ‘Life in the Sun’s atmosphere’. Solar storms have the potential to cripple global communication networks, disrupt power grids, and send shock waves through financial markets. How prepared are we? The answers may be unsettling.

On the commercial front, the space industry continues to expand, but not necessarily in ways we might have predicted. The business of space is no longer the exclusive domain of traditional aerospace giants and new players are emerging, seizing opportunities once thought beyond their reach.

Whilst attending the International Astronautical Congress (IAC) in Milan last October, I was interested to learn how South Korea’s INNOSPACE is carving out a niche in the small rocket market, and discuss with Bruno Carvalho how Portugal is positioning the Azores as a hub for orbital launches.

At the same time, industries far removed from space exploration are finding unexpected synergies. Sabelt, for example, a company best known for its expertise in high-performance racing harnesses, now applies its technology to astronaut safety systems. These cross-sector collaborations highlight how space is no longer a standalone industry but an integral part of a much larger technological ecosystem.

Yet, for all this expansion, a sense of saturation is creeping in. With space conferences and networking events proliferating at an almost unsustainable rate, one has to wonder whether the industry is spreading itself too thin. Increasingly, the most impactful gatherings are the smaller, more focused forums where real conversations happen, deals are struck and innovation thrives. It is a reminder that in an industry often obsessed with scale, sometimes less is more.

There is an old adage about the advantages of being a big fish in a small pond rather than a small fish in a vast ocean. Progressively, the space sector is proving this point. As we look to the future, agility and specialisation may well define success more than sheer size. Those who can adapt, pivot and carve out their own corner of the cosmos will be the ones who endure and thrive.

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Editor's note: this post is an edited version of my Foreword ‘Shaping space through innovation, geopolitics and the future’ for the Spring 2025 issue of ROOM Space Journal.

Writing on the edge of reality

As a journalist covering the global space sector, I’ve spent years reporting from the 'edge of reality' – where science meets imagination, and sometimes vice versa.

I’ve had the privilege of interviewing dozens of amazing astronauts and, while their missions and motivations always differ, one experience unites them all. The profound, emotional impact of seeing Earth from orbit.

As well as sparking my own career, that view – the 'Blue Marble' of Apollo fame – helped catalyse the modern environmental movement.

I’ve also written extensively about the science of climate change for many years: from rising seas and extreme weather to attending landmark international conferences on sustainability. 

The evidence is overwhelming. Yet mostly, in everyday life, the danger feels remote. Facts alone, however, don’t often stir the soul.

A one-degree temperature rise? A few millimeters of sea level? These sound trivial – until they flood your home, destroy your crops, or make communities unlivable.

Our human brains aren’t wired to feel urgency from statistics but I believe fiction can bridge the gap between scientific consensus and human experience, exploring what lies beyond the data and what life could be like.

It can show, not tell. It makes climate change real – not in charts or headlines but in lived, personal stories. So that’s why I’ve written a climate fiction novel.

‘Flood Waters Down’ sees the Fens of eastern England vividly reshaped by the effects of anthropogenic climate change, societal fracture and greed. It’s not dystopian just for dramatic effect. It’s grounded in science and extrapolated from today’s trajectory.

We say we understand the climate crisis. But do we feel it?

In today's world climate fiction matters. Not as escapism, but as a tool – to challenge, warn and, above all, connect.

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Posted in response to Guardian Editorial (21 March 2024) which can be viewed on this link - The Guardian view on climate fiction: no longer the stuff of sci-fi

Fuelling the fire

Deep clouds and long shadows viewed from the International Space Station.                  NASA

Climate change denial thrives on manipulated language and disinformation. While sceptics exploit misunderstandings, California’s recent wildfires have proved the deadly reality of climate change. A new study confirms these fires were significantly more likely due to global warming, yet denial persists through cherry-picked data and misinformation.

WORDS wield power and nowhere more so than in the animated discourse on environmental crises. Yet, as California's recent infernos have tragically illustrated, the consequences of misinterpreting or dismissing climate terminology are anything but abstract. 

Disinformation is rampant in today’s world of social media and so-called authoritative media commentary, which is often anything but expert. 

It’s time the mainstream media dissected the language that fuels denial and confronts the clear evidence linking our planet’s escalating disasters to human-induced climate change.

The words "weather", "meteorology" and "climate change" are not synonyms, and understanding the latter as a comprehensive term highlights the complex and multifaceted nature of the challenges we face. 

It's not just about temperatures rising; it's about the cascading effects on weather systems, ecosystems and human societies.

Terms like "climate crisis" or "climate emergency" have emerged to underscore the urgency of the situation, emphasising that these changes are not distant or abstract but immediate threats requiring prompt action. 

And this evolution of climate-related terminology reflects our growing understanding of these phenomena. 

Rhetoric of dismissal
Dismissing such expressions as mere rhetoric ignores the scientific consensus and the lived experiences of communities in all parts of the world already impacted by climate-related disasters.

Whereas “global warming" and "climate change" are often used interchangeably infact they convey different aspects of our planet's environmental shifts.

"Global warming" refers specifically to the increase in Earth's average surface temperature due to rising levels of greenhouse gases. 

In contrast, "climate change" encompasses this warming but also includes the broader range of changes affecting our planet's climate systems, such as alterations in precipitation patterns, increased frequency of extreme weather events and rising sea levels.

Focusing solely on "global warming" can lead to oversimplification, allowing sceptics to argue against the reality of climate change by pointing, for example, to localised cold weather events such as snowstorms or cold snaps. 

This distinction is crucial and is one so often lost on the conspiracy theory and denier community who ply their views freely and without reference or accountability on social media platforms such as X (formerly Twitter).

Definition of denial
By definition, a climate change denier is a person or entity that rejects, downplays or misrepresents the current overwhelming scientific consensus that climate change is occurring and is primarily caused by human activities, particularly the burning of fossil fuels and deforestation.

Climate change deniers typically fall into one or more of the following categories:

•    Outright deniers – those who claim that climate change is a hoax, a conspiracy, or not happening at all, often ignoring or distorting scientific evidence.

•    Minimisers – individuals who acknowledge that the climate is changing but argue that it is part of a natural cycle, downplaying the role of human activities.

•    Delay tacticians – people who accept that climate change is real and human-caused but argue against immediate action, claiming that solutions are too expensive, ineffective or unnecessary.

•    Cherry-pickers – those who selectively use data or specific weather events (such as a cold winter) to argue against long-term climate trends.

•    Misinformation spreaders – individuals, corporations or organisations (often linked to fossil fuel industries or politically motivated groups) that deliberately spread misleading or false information to sow doubt and delay climate action.

Many climate change deniers rely on disinformation, pseudoscience and economic or political motivations rather than peer-reviewed research to support their views and their influence, particularly through online media and political lobbying, has significantly delayed meaningful action on climate change, worsening its consequences.

Tangible impacts
The devastating wildfires that swept through Los Angeles in January 2025 serve as a stark illustration of the tangible impacts of climate change. 

A new study by World Weather Attribution analysed the conditions leading to these fires and found compelling evidence of human-induced climate influences.

It revealed that the hot, dry conditions preceding the fires were approximately 35 percent more likely due to the effects of climate change.

Additionally, the region experienced significantly reduced rainfall in the months leading up to the fires, a trend also linked to global warming. 

These factors combined to create an environment primed for wildfires, which were then exacerbated by the Santa Ana winds – strong, dry gusts that blow from inland towards the coast.

Historically, the arrival of winter rains in California would dampen vegetation and reduce fire risk during the Santa Ana wind season.

The study also noted a troubling shift: the wildfire season is extending, and the anticipated rains are diminishing. This prolongation of dry conditions into periods traditionally considered safer underscores the evolving nature of climate-related threats.

The consequences were catastrophic. The fires resulted in at least 28 fatalities and destroyed over 16,000 structures, marking them among the most destructive in Southern California's history. The rapid spread and intensity of the fires overwhelmed firefighting efforts, highlighting the challenges of responding to such unprecedented events.

Critically, the study emphasised that while natural factors like the Santa Ana winds have always played a role in Southern California's fire regime, the increasing frequency and severity of such fires cannot be explained without accounting for human-induced climate change.

This aligns with broader scientific consensus that links rising global temperatures to more extreme and unpredictable weather patterns.

Deliberate distortions
The language we use to discuss environmental issues shapes our understanding and, consequently, our actions – and so is important.

Misinterpretations or deliberate distortions of terms like "global warming" and "climate change" help foster complacency or denial, despite empirical evidence – such as the recent California wildfires – demonstrating the impacts of climate change are real, immediate and devastating.

It's imperative to move beyond semantic debates and acknowledge the urgency of the crisis we face. The time for action, guided by clear understanding and informed by undeniable evidence, is not tomorrow but now. In many ways humanity’s future depends on it.