Launching Starship in South Texas

This piece is part of a special series on how the global space industry is transforming life on Earth. Read the introduction to the series here.

An expanding cloud of brownish dust rises from beneath the orbital launch mount. Intermittent flashes of bright fire pierce through a storm of sand and pulverized concrete. Starship—the biggest rocket ever built—slowly lifts off from a launch pad in Boca Chica, a village in South Texas. A staccato of low, bursting sounds punctuates the slightly hazy morning air. A shock wave makes the tents of now wide-awake occupants undulate.

At this time in April 2023, I was staying near the home base of Elon Musk’s company SpaceX to understand what this event meant for the people witnessing it and, ultimately, for the future of space exploration. I watched the first launch of the integrated Starship/Super Heavy system with about 150 space enthusiasts who had gathered in the viewing area of a popular local business called Rocket Ranch. They were a motley crew of different ages and professions from near and far: from engineers to artists, army veterans to hippies, united in tense anticipation of this historic event. Some had been waiting impatiently for this very moment since SpaceX moved to South Texas in 2014.

When the rocket started ascending into the sky, jubilant cheering erupted. Friends and strangers alike reached their arms out to embrace. Some shed tears of joy.

Soon, however, it became obvious that something was wrong. Some of the engines didn’t ignite. The second stage of the rocket failed to separate from the first-stage Super Heavy booster, and the whole vehicle started to tumble. Four minutes into its first flight, Starship exploded after SpaceX activated its flight termination system. (No people were on board.)

However, for the people who I watched the launch with, the sense of success didn’t wane. They saw it as a historic moment—an important step in the quest to return astronauts to the Moon, settle on Mars, and, ultimately, make space travel more accessible and affordable. They envisioned a future where humans could become a multiplanetary species.

As I was writing my field notes from the day, I wondered what my experience of the launch would have been had I watched it from a different place with a group that holds another perspective. After all, while the idea of space exploration inspires technological awe for some, for others it’s a painful reminder of colonial histories and exploitative capitalist practices here on Earth.

A few days later, I was hit with that more critical perspective when two environmental activists from nearby towns arrived in Boca Chica. I heard someone say the site looked like “a war zone.”

Indeed, when I looked around, I saw mangled shards of metal and chunks of concrete that must have been flung with great force, tearing and bending the fences surrounding the launch site. Now they were lying silently across the adjacent plains. I treaded carefully amid this otherworldly landscape punctuated with gaping craters etched in the scorched sand. The vast majority of people were there on a “treasure hunt” for pieces of Starship that the blowup might have left scattered around the area.

But I suspected that the environmental activists weren’t interested in these explosive souvenirs. Instead, they wanted to assess the impact that the fiery liftoff had on the local landscape and wildlife, especially on threatened migratory bird species such as the piping plover.

Soon after, a few environmental groups in coalition with the Carrizo/Comecrudo Nation of Texas, also known as Esto’k Gna, sued the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) for failing to adequately analyze the damage that the rocket could cause.

A local nonprofit organization, Save RGV, has been fighting SpaceX’s development for several years. The Carrizo/Comecrudo Nation, one of Save RGV’s partners, considers themselves the original people of this land, but they do not have federal recognition to protect their sovereignty. The Tribe is facing multiple encroachments on their sacred lands, including burial sites, by SpaceX and several liquefied natural gas companies looking to build export terminals in the area. Esto’k Gna community members told me they’ve worked tirelessly to have a say in the matter but have continuously encountered officials’ indifference and formal obstacles.

Had I watched the launch with the environmental activists or members of the Tribe, I realized, my immediate experience would have been diametrically different. Instead of a moment of celebration, the launch would have been confirmation of SpaceX as a persistent symbol of colonialism, a blight on the landscape, and a threat to rare local wildlife.

There is no argument that Starship is a contested topic. When I spoke to space enthusiasts in Boca Chica, they worried that lengthy environmental reviews might stall the Starship project. Environmental activists and the local Indigenous group, on the other hand, were concerned that hasty decisions would result in adopting a careless attitude toward people and the environment (both on Earth and someday in outer space).

As I observed in Boca Chica, emotions often ran high when these two perspectives collided. These divisions only intensified through adversarial exchanges in county commissioners’ meetings and on social media. Journalistic reporting seemed to reinforce these divisions with sensational headlines such as “Disgruntled Neighbors and Dwindling Shorebirds Jeopardize SpaceX Expansion” and “A Serene Shore Resort, Except for the SpaceX ‘Ball of Fire.’”

However, during my research on the ground, conversations were usually more nuanced. I did not meet any environmental activists who entirely opposed the goal of space exploration; some even agreed with those who believe that one day settlement in space will become a necessity. The complaint filed by the Carrizo/Comecrudo Nation and their collaborators against the FAA implies that they’re not against the aims of spaceflight.

Similarly, I did not encounter a single space enthusiast who wanted to destroy the rugged beauty of Boca Chica or wipe out the wildlife to make room for SpaceX. Many local photographers and filmmakers rely on the natural aesthetics of the place to emphasize the grandeur of the mission that is reaching the stars. Part of Boca Chica’s poetic appeal lies precisely in the interface between the unstoppable forces of nature and technology. Local space enthusiasts also organize beach cleanups on a regular basis.

Although communities are split on their different perspectives on SpaceX, most neighbors still find ways to coexist and find common ground. Many locals who I have spoken to—who often don’t fit neatly in either camp—are simultaneously proud that their area is now famous for building sophisticated rockets and worried about the environment. They try to capitalize on this new development in various ways while still expressing annoyance with the increased traffic, rent hikes, and beach closures that SpaceX has brought to their community.

At a public meeting I attended in the area, a member of the Carrizo/Comecrudo Nation critiqued his long-term adversaries who seem to prioritize financial gain with no regard for Indigenous rights or the future of the environment. Despite his combative tone, he also punctuated his remarks with a sense of interconnection.

“This is one planet,” he said. “We live in the same world.”

I committed these words to memory. As I try to engage more productively with the conflicting perspectives that I encounter during fieldwork, these words serve as a guide.

By bringing multiple and opposing perspectives together, I believe we can gain a more complete view of the world and its complexities. I also believe that polemic, critique, and nonviolent conflict are often necessary for achieving human liberation and social justice.

I suspect those invested in and affected by the expanding space exploration industry in Boca Chica and beyond would fare better by seeking out the experiences, knowledge, and even the critiques of different communities’ perspectives. Indigenous knowledges don’t hold all the necessary answers for the complex problems raised by space exploration, but neither do Western science or technologies. By exploring conflicting priorities, these communities may discover the limits of their current approaches and the unexpected synergies of their efforts to improve life here on Earth—and beyond.

As we look to the stars, these multiple perspectives and productive conflicts are what will hold together our communities and our shared world.