Branding in Zero Gravity: Why the Blue Origin Launch Fell Flat
This week, six women—including Katy Perry, Gayle King, and Lauren Sánchez—boarded Jeff Bezos’ Blue Origin rocket for a six-minute suborbital flight. Branded as “historic,” the mission was framed as a win for women, innovation, and representation. In reality, it was a $1.2 million distraction wrapped in a flight suit.
And while Katy and crew floated in zero gravity for Instagram, the rest of us stayed grounded—in more ways than one.
While the internet applauded zero-gravity selfies, here on Earth:
Egg prices are up 11% since January.
Inflation continues to outpace wages.
The stock market is reacting to looming 10–50% tariffs.
And former President Trump is openly testing authoritarian waters—suggesting plans to jail journalists and deport U.S. citizens.
In that context, this wasn’t a leap forward for female empowerment. It was a case study in how powerful elites use storytelling to deflect, distract, and dominate.
The Optics of Empowerment, Without the Substance
This launch wasn’t about exploration. It was about optics.
At $200,000 per seat, this flight cost an estimated $1.2 million. That’s equivalent to a year’s STEM outreach budget, or full tuition for 30+ students at a public university. Some previous seats have gone for as much as $28 million. And what did this mission achieve? No science. No technological breakthrough. No meaningful data. Just high-altitude content and a few feel-good headlines.
Even actress Olivia Munn called it out, describing the launch as “a bit gluttonous” and asking: “What are they doing? There are so many more important things happening in the world right now.” When actors known for Marvel movies are offering sharper critiques than most media outlets, it might be time to ask: are we still calling this innovation—or just elite escapism?
Meanwhile:
NASA is eliminating DEI programs, including initiatives that supported female astronauts.
Public science funding is being cut across the board.
The Department of Education is facing existential threats.
And in a breaking case, a man was deported to El Salvador in violation of constitutional protections, raising urgent concerns about the erosion of civil rights.
As a reminder: human spaceflight has existed since 1961. What made this mission different? Not the technology. Not the purpose. The influencer list.
This flight looks less like progress and more like PR laundering—especially for a billionaire who might be eyeing Musk’s dramatic Tesla freefall and ongoing reputational unraveling.
The Innovation Trap
It raises an uncomfortable question: Are we mistaking repetition for innovation?
The why of space travel used to be exploration, science, discovery. The why now? Content.
It mirrors what’s happening in Hollywood: endless reboots, repackaged nostalgia, and safe bets masquerading as creativity. America's reputation for innovation and risk-taking feels increasingly hollow.
When innovation is reduced to novelty—when it’s untethered from purpose—it becomes branding theater. We’re not pushing boundaries. We’re refreshing optics.
That’s not innovation.
That’s marketing without meaning.
Five Lessons for Brand Marketers
1. Innovation without purpose is noise.
If the only thing “new” is who’s in the photo, it’s not innovation—it’s casting.
2. Optics are not a substitute for impact.
Representation matters, but without real policy, access, or equity—it rings hollow. And audiences know the difference.
3. Brands are part of the democratic fabric.
Neutrality is a myth. What you fund, who you partner with, and where you show up is your message.
4. Don’t conflate distraction with engagement.
Social buzz isn’t impact. Ask: Did we shift thinking, or just hijack the scroll?
5. Ask your team bigger questions.
Are we helping? Are we contributing to culture or just extracting from it? What are we truly building?
Our Future
I write this not just as a brand strategist, but as a father.
My daughter is 18 months old. She’s just beginning to explore the world. She loves stars. She thinks space is magical. And I want her to grow up in a world where progress is measured not by who can afford to leave Earth—but by how well we care for it, and for each other, while we’re here.
We don’t need more billionaires in orbit.
We need more grounded leadership.
More CEOs who ask, “How are we making things better?”
More marketers who push past the optics.
More innovation that’s driven by purpose, not PR.
Because the future doesn’t need more distractions.
It needs empathy. Integrity. Direction.
And if you're wondering whether this critique is too harsh, just consider who called it out first: Wendy’s.
Yes, Wendy’s—the fast-food chain with the spiciest Twitter team in the game—posted: “Katy Perry really went to space before releasing another album. Priorities, I guess.” When a fan replied, “Can we send her back?”—Wendy’s simply liked the comment.
When the sharpest cultural critique comes from a burger chain, maybe it's time we all recalibrate what we call "progress"—and rethink how brands (and people) show up in this new environment.