Jul 19, 2021 4 min read

Submitted for your approval. Imagine that cable TV had been around in 1492. Around 4:30 a.m., you might see this infomercial:

Hi! My name is Christopher Columbus! Perhaps you know me better as “Admiral of the Ocean Sea!” That’s because I just discovered the New World! Exciting, isn’t it! Well, how would you like to join me on my next voyage?

That’s right! The good sovereigns of Spain, King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella, have authorized me to offer two lucky private citizens the chance to sail with me on what we’re calling “Voyage II: So What If It Isn’t India?” Now, I know you’re probably thinking, “I can’t even pay the rent for my mud hut! How can I sail to the New World?”

By lottery, my friends! Beginning tomorrow, we’ll be taking bids for a berth on next year’s expedition. The winner will even get to sleep in a cabin next to me! Bidding starts at 100,000 Spanish maravedes. Better act fast! (Winner must provide his own citrus fruit to ward off scurvy and evidence that he is not suffering from any of the following diseases at time of departure: measles, smallpox, mumps, chickenpox, influenza, cholera, diphtheria, typhus, malaria, leprosy and yellow fever. Offer may not be combined with other offers.)

To all you kids out there: I was once a child with a dream, looking out at the ocean. Now I’m an adult in a sailing ship. … If we can do this, just imagine what you can do!

Remember when calling someone a “Space Cadet” was an insult?

Now people and the media are scrambling to praise billionaire Richard Branson for rocketing to slightly beyond the edge of space in his privately funded Unity plane on July 11. The suborbital flight took two pilots, Branson and three companions some 53 miles above Earth. Pretty cool, eh?

Nah. Branson’s a Space Cadet.

Here’s why: Branson, who spent roughly $1 billion of his reported $8 billion fortune to develop Unity over a 17-year period so he could tell his best buds what it feels to be weightless, could’ve used that money to make a real difference here on Earth. Ditto Amazon founder Jeff Bezos, who as of this writing was set to make his own sun-orbital flight tomorrow. Bezos – who is worth $210 billion – has reportedly poured $7.8 billion into his Blue Origin program. Weep not: He has already recouped that investment. Bezos auctioned off a seat next to him on the flight for $28 billion. An 18-year-old from the Netherlands will join him – a high school graduation gift from his father.

Good grief! The closest I ever got to space after graduating from high school was driving my 1959 Ford Galaxy. And I paid for it!

I suppose all this sounds like sour grapes. After all, Branson and Bezos have donated millions to charity and continue to do so. And I have to admit that Christopher Columbus was not exactly altruistic. His goal in sailing west to get to the East was anchored in the desire to bring back spices, silks and other valuable commodities to Spain. And to be paid handsomely for it.

Don’t get me wrong: I understand that space exploration led to countless innovations that make life better for millions of people. And, hey, these billionaires earned their money. Who am I to tell them how to blow it? But I wonder how much better the lives of those unable to afford the steep ticket to space could be if most of that money had been used to help address diseases, poverty and hunger.

I guess that when you’re 50 miles high it’s kinda hard to spot problems down below.