When the Hubble Space Telescope was threatened with cancellation in the 1970s, it was not a technical defense that saved it. The scientists behind the project did not go on about wavefront sensors or adaptive optics. Instead, they told a story. They talked about the origin of the universe, and our place in it. They talked about the telescope as a kind of mirror—not of light, but of human ambition. They gave people a reason to care. And it worked. Hubble is in orbit today.
Today, the space sector faces a similar test. The White House has proposed slashing $2.27B from NASA’s space science missions and more than $1B from Earth science programs, including eliminating the Mars Sample Return mission and climate-monitoring missions. While technical excellence abounds in the space sector, there’s a communications issue holding them back.
Mind the gap: The problem? A gap between those doing the work, and those who need to understand it. Engineers, physicists, and founders are building extraordinary things: new propulsion systems, resilient optical networks, and smarter satellites. But often, the story of what’s being built, why it matters, and who it’s for gets lost in a fog of jargon, acronyms, and passive verbs. From the outside, it can sound like something from another planet.
Communication isn’t a luxury. It’s how you get buy-in. It’s how you justify your budget, get your mission approved, and build alliances. Even the most groundbreaking ideas—quantum-secure networks, in-orbit manufacturing, real time Earth intelligence—won’t shape the future if they’re not understood in the present.
Take satellite data. Petabytes of it are gathered every year. It’s a technical marvel. But unless people understand how that data can warn that a flood is coming, or prevent crops from failing, or expose methane leaks, gathering data risks being seen as merely clever—rather than useful.
Or consider optical communication, a form of technology that can send information from space to Earth at staggering speeds—and with an unmatched degree of security. Most people have never even heard of it. Yet in a world of rising demand for bandwidth and declining radio spectrum availability, optical communication will be vital to the future of global connectivity—and vital already in conflict zones, where security is paramount. Without stakeholders clearly communicating their value, space technologies like data—or optical communications—will at best remain solutions to problems no one knows exist.
The bottom line: Good space sector communication is about explaining what you do, what problem your solution addresses, and why that matters—-in language that doesn’t require a PhD to comprehend. Realistically, investors don’t back what they don’t get. Policymakers don’t defend what they can’t explain. And the public doesn’t throw its support behind something that arouses no emotion. The best kind of communication connects these three dots: It attracts capital, shapes law, and builds trust with the community.
Next steps: In many boardrooms, communication is still treated as a soft skill—or even something optional. Often it’s seen as something to be delegated, or deferred. That’s a mistake. The strategic value of space is becoming clearer by the day—in climate monitoring, in defense, in agriculture, in telecoms, in connectivity, and in national resilience. This is a story that should be told.
Closing thoughts: The challenge we face isn’t making the work sound exciting. It is exciting. It’s closing the communication gap—between those building the world of tomorrow, and those who need to believe in that world to support the builders. The mission must be understood to be supported. Without that support, even the best ideas can tumble out of orbit.
