The future of travel? Sorry Katy Perry, this ain’t it

Katy Perry achieved something remarkable, I think we can all agree. In becoming an “astronaut” for 10 minutes or so, she united the world, she brought us all together in glorious, synchronised derision of Katy Perry. “You never know how much love is inside you,” Perry said after her historic space mission recently, “how much love you have to give and how loved you are, until the day of launch.”

I guess you don’t know how ridiculous you seem to the rest of the world either, until Jeff Bezos shoots you into space in his phallic rocket.

Katy Perry in space.Credit: Instagram@katyperry

Perry, in case you’re one of the lucky ones who missed this story, recently made, um, history, when she joined an all-female flight crew for a scenic journey above the stratosphere aboard the Blue Origin. There, she was joined by Oprah Winfrey’s friend Gayle King and Bezos’ wife Lauren Sanchez, as well as actual qualified astronauts such as Aisha Bowe, and civil rights activist and bioastronautics researcher Amanda Nguyen.

The group donned specially designed Star Trek-style jumpsuits and were fired 106 kilometres above the Earth, where they spent 11 minutes, before plunging back to the ground/reality.

Remember, during the COVID-19 pandemic, when a group of celebrities, led by actor Gal Gadot, got together to sing Imagine in an earnest attempt to make the world feel better about being locked in their homes while their loved ones got sick and died? The song was successful, in a way, as it caused the entire planet to forget about its COVID-related woes for a few days and instead come together in their hatred of oblivious celebrities.

Same vibes here. Imagine all the people.

This Perry flight was supposed to be about female empowerment, or promoting your new record, or something like that, but it was also supposed to be a glimpse into the future of travel. This is what we could all be doing in the next few decades, we were shown, dressing up in natty outfits and paying incredible amounts of money to spew toxic gases into the atmosphere for the pay-off of a few minutes in space (and the realisation that everyone hates you).

Even if it becomes more accessible, space travel will always be the domain of the uber-rich.Credit: AP

Of course, when I say “we”, I mean not you or me. Because space joy flights might become more accessible in the next decade or so, but not actually accessible. This is always going to be the travel experience of the uber-rich, even if at some point you don’t need to be friends with Oprah to get a seat.

As far as advertisements for the exciting future of jet-setting go, this was probably as successful as Perry’s new album. Rather than promote its joys, it instead highlighted its significant flaws. Is this the future? Is this what we want travel to look like? Hardly.

Again, there are comparisons you could draw here, this time to the scenic “flights to nowhere” that became popular during, you guessed it, the COVID-19 pandemic. Back in the Times We Don’t Talk About, desperate travel companies began offering joy flights to see the Aurora Australis, and even scenic flights over Antarctica.

It would keep pilots in the air, it would keep planes functioning, it would keep businesses afloat.

All great. It also, however, sparked conversations about the destruction we are doing to the planet in pursuit of our own enjoyment. Is it really worth the environmental cost, many asked, to fly over a pristine landscape and then just come home again?

The answer was a resounding “no”, which is part of the reason you don’t see these types of experiences offered so much any more. It’s not just fiddling while Rome burns – it’s tipping aviation fuel on the fire.

So what of space travel, the next frontier, the travel experience that you don’t yet have access to but might dream of in future? The Blue Origin flight brought it sharply into focus: its harms, its wastefulness, its obnoxious selfishness.

Its lack of payoff, too. Surely the knowledge of how much you’re loved and can love is not enough reward for the hundreds of thousands of dollars you will have to pay for a brief tour of Earth’s outer layers.

More rich people will want to go to space, of course. More rich people probably still want to see the Titanic, too.

But it seems clear now that this is not the future we’re looking for, or one that any of us mere mortals have any cause to be excited about. This is not feasible for mass travel, or even desirable.

The veil has been lifted from our eyes. And for that, we can all come together and thank a pop star, a billionaire benefactor and a few real astronauts.