One moon, two spaces
Wednesday, July 15, 2026
Lu Zun'en
Director of the Discipleship Resource Center of the Christ's Apostles Association
In this era, rockets launch almost daily, tens of thousands of satellites already orbit the Earth, and the lunar south pole has become a target of competition among nations. As we look up at the same moon, the sky is divided into two systems: two groups of rockets, two satellite constellation networks, and two grand narratives about the future, vying for the imagination of the next generation.
The space industry has first and foremost brought tangible benefits. Low-Earth orbit satellite networks such as Starlink, Leo, and Qianfan connect mountainous areas, islands, deserts, and disaster zones to the world; telemedicine, online classes, precision agriculture, navigation, weather warnings, and Earth observation are increasingly reliant on space-based infrastructure. Perhaps space's greatest contribution is not leaving Earth, but rather enabling us to see our planet more clearly for the first time and to feel awe before the vast universe.
Let's examine this transformation from the perspectives of three seventeen-year-olds. Zi'ang from Shenzhen is drawn to stories of "spacefaring nations" and "the vast universe"; Ethan, a Chinese-Canadian youth from Toronto, focuses on the Artemis program and reusable rockets; Yutong from Taipei grew up between the two sides of the Taiwan Strait, her phone receiving both GPS and BeiDou signals, and her family's semiconductor industry supplying both space systems. They gaze at the same starry sky, yet live amidst increasingly fragmented information ecosystems, technological standards, and geopolitical alliances. The globalization experienced by the previous generation has made the world increasingly interconnected; the next generation may face "two universes" under the same moon.
The space boom is driven by at least four factors: defense, capital, technology, and mythology. People often hear about Mars colonization, interplanetary civilizations, and national rejuvenation first, but rarely about military spending, security procurement, and capital valuations. What young people truly need is not just to follow their dreams, but to discern the story: Who is funding it? Who is defining the future? And what do they expect us to pay for it?
This sky also comes at a price. Infrastructure ownership is concentrated in the hands of a few companies and nations; the language of "conquest, exploration, virgin territory" perpetuates old colonial imaginations; satellite debris pollutes the upper atmosphere, and the starry sky, a shared asset of humanity, is gradually being commercialized. A deeper price lies in the human heart: when young people are suffocated by involution, comparison, and anxiety, space is easily packaged as an escape from reality. Yet, no matter where one flies, one will still carry one's inner self onto the rocket.
The Bible offers another narrative. David, gazing at the moon and stars, did not see the sky as a mine for humanity, a trophy for the nation, or a gateway for escape, but rather, in awe, asked, “What is man that you are mindful of him?” Humanity is not given conquest, but rather management, guardianship, and care. The ultimate goal of the sky is not escape, but renewal; the heavens have been witnesses to God's glory from the beginning.
Therefore, when facing the space industry, we should neither reject trends nor blindly believe in myths. We must distinguish between real needs and man-made narratives, paying attention to practical barriers such as communication, navigation, observation, engineering, materials, software, and space law; we must remain sober about bubbles and pragmatic about technology. The future world will be faster and more connected, and tensions between nations may also be higher. May the next generation, under a sky divided in two, still hear the heavens proclaiming God's glory, and move towards the future with wisdom, humility, and responsibility.
