Before SpaceX, every orbital-class rocket was expendable. You built it, flew it once, and threw it away. This made spaceflight extraordinarily expensive—tens of millions per launch minimum. Experts agreed reusability was impractical. The rocket equation's tyranny, the engineering challenges, the weight penalties—it couldn't work economically.
Then SpaceX landed a Falcon 9 first stage on December 21, 2015. Experts were stunned. Then SpaceX did it again. And again. And again. As of 2025, they've landed and reused boosters dozens of times each. The first stage of Falcon 9 is now routinely reusable, dramatically reducing launch costs.
This wasn't incremental improvement. It was paradigm shift. Like going from horses to automobiles, from typewriters to computers. SpaceX proved conventional wisdom wrong through first-principles thinking and stubborn persistence.
As someone interested in Mars colonization, I find this revolutionary. Mars settlement requires dramatically cheaper spaceflight. At traditional costs ($10,000+ per kg to low Earth orbit), Mars cities are impossible. At SpaceX's current costs (approaching $1,000 per kg), they're conceivable. With full reusability including Starship, costs could drop below $100 per kg. That changes everything.
The engineering is elegant. Instead of discarding a multi-million dollar booster after one use, land it, refuel it, and fly it again. This requires precision landing, heat shielding, structural integrity across multiple flights, and rapid turnaround. All extremely difficult. But not impossible.
SpaceX's approach was methodical:
- Prove landing is possible (Grasshopper tests)
 - Attempt ocean landings (partially successful)
 - Attempt barge landings (many explosions, eventual success)
 - Refine and operationalize (routine landings)
 - Extend reuse (multiple flights per booster)
 - Apply to larger systems (Starship)
 
This is systematic problem-solving at its finest. Break impossible into difficult. Break difficult into achievable steps. Execute step by step. Learn from failures. Iterate. Persist.
The autistic part of me loves this methodology. It's logical, systematic, and detail-oriented. It doesn't rely on intuition or accepting expert consensus. It's first-principles reasoning: What are the fundamental constraints? What's actually impossible vs. merely very hard? How can we test assumptions?
Elon Musk's approach to problems is famously autistic-coded. He rejects conventional wisdom in favor of physics-based reasoning. If something doesn't violate physical laws, it's possible—just a question of engineering. This mindset enabled achievements experts deemed impossible.
The theological implications are interesting. Humans are created with capacity for innovation and problem-solving. We can look at "impossible" challenges and sometimes solve them. This reflects being made in the image of a Creator God who spoke reality into existence—we have derivative creative and problem-solving capacity.
The dominion mandate includes developing creation's potential. Reusable rockets enable space exploration and eventual Mars settlement. This is extending human presence beyond Earth, filling creation, and exercising responsible dominion over new frontiers. It's fulfilling the calling God gave humanity.
Critics sometimes view space exploration as pride or wastefulness. But developing capabilities to become multiplanetary is responsible stewardship. Earth faces real risks—asteroids, supervolcanoes, human conflicts. Having backup locations for human civilization isn't lack of faith; it's wisdom.
Moreover, the technological development required for space exploration produces benefits on Earth. Materials science, AI, robotics, life support systems—advances in these areas for space applications improve terrestrial life too.
The reusability revolution also demonstrates that "impossible" often means "nobody's figured it out yet, and most people have given up trying." Conventional wisdom said reusable orbital rockets were economically impractical. SpaceX proved otherwise through persistence and engineering excellence.
This has apologetic value. Christianity claims impossible things: resurrection from death, God becoming human, new creation from fallen world. Skeptics say these violate natural law or defy common sense. But "impossible by natural causes" doesn't mean "impossible by divine action." God operates at a level above natural law, just as human engineering can achieve what nature alone couldn't.
The analogy isn't perfect—rocket reusability doesn't violate physics, while resurrection does. But it illustrates that "experts say it can't be done" isn't definitive proof. Sometimes it can be done; you just need different approaches and persistent effort.
SpaceX's achievement also required significant capital investment and willingness to accept failures. Early landing attempts exploded spectacularly. Critics mocked each failure. But SpaceX learned from failures, iterated designs, and eventually succeeded.
This parallels Christian discipleship. We fail repeatedly. Critics mock. But persistence in pursuing holiness, despite failures, eventually produces transformation. Not through our effort alone—grace is essential—but grace enables persistent effort toward growth.
The ultimate goal of SpaceX's reusability work isn't just cheaper satellites. It's making humanity multiplanetary. Starship is designed for Mars—fully reusable, capable of carrying 100+ passengers, refuelable in orbit for long-duration journeys. The entire reusability program serves this larger vision.
This long-term, multi-generational thinking reflects being made in God's image. God works on cosmic timescales. His plans unfold over centuries and millennia. When humans engage in projects that won't be fulfilled in our lifetimes—Mars cities, for instance—we're reflecting this divine characteristic of patient, long-term purpose.
The reusability revolution is also profoundly hopeful. For decades, space access was stagnant. Costs remained high, innovation minimal. It seemed like spaceflight's golden age was past. Then SpaceX demonstrated that dramatic improvement was possible through determined engineering.
This reminds me that apparent limits aren't always real. Conventional wisdom isn't always wise. What seems impossible might just require different thinking and persistent effort. The same God who designed physical laws gave humans capacity to understand and work within them creatively.
When I watch Falcon 9 boosters land precisely on drone ships after delivering payloads to orbit, I see human capability exercised excellently. Engineers solving hard problems. Designers optimizing systems. Operators executing precisely. It's humans doing what we're made to do—understanding creation and developing its potential.
And it's enabling dreams that were previously fantasy. Mars cities. Asteroid mining. Deep space exploration. Permanent human presence beyond Earth. These aren't guaranteed—significant challenges remain. But they're now conceivable in ways they weren't before reusability.
SpaceX's achievement is ultimately a testament to persistence, rigorous thinking, and refusal to accept conventional limits without testing them. These are virtues Christianity celebrates: perseverance, wisdom, careful stewardship of resources, bold vision for the future.
The rocket landing itself is beautiful—controlled descent, precision guidance, touchdown on legs designed to take the impact. It's elegant engineering made to look almost easy through countless hours of difficult development work.
And every successful landing is a small declaration: the impossible isn't always impossible. Sometimes it just requires seeing problems differently, working systematically, learning from failures, and refusing to quit when experts say it can't be done.
That's a lesson applicable far beyond rocketry. In faith, in science, in personal growth—persistence combined with wisdom can achieve what conventional thinking deems impossible. Not always. Not easily. But sometimes.
And sometimes is enough to change everything.