From Polaris Dawn to Mars: How SpaceX is Creating Intensive Space Exploration

Elon Musk’s company has successfully leveraged public contracts to develop new technologies,
production routines, and an unprecedented launch cadence. A scale aimed at Mars.

BY EMILIO COZZI

There’s a detail that might not have escaped notice during the first historic extravehicular activity
by two non-professional astronauts on September 12: billionaire Polaris Dawn mission
commander Jared Isaacman and SpaceX engineer Sarah Gillis exited the Crew Dragon
“Resilience” capsule by holding onto a handrail. In keeping with Musk’s well-known passion for
Star Wars and similar themes, it was named the “Skywalker.” Indeed, Isaacman emerging from
the hatch looked like a traveler who had reached the summit, leaning against the railing of a
lookout point.

The Skywalker is a new feature introduced to facilitate the exit from the capsule through a hatch
originally designed for docking with a module, like those of the International Space Station, and
not as an exit for an EVA (Extravehicular Activity). It’s a small detail, perhaps an unintended
metaphor, but one that reveals a direction: SpaceX’s effort to position itself as an intensive service
provider rather than just a colossal extraterrestrial hardware company. The goal is to scale the
business by progressively reducing costs and creating demand and markets.

Projections for the space tourism business estimate growth that could take it from its current
billion-dollar valuation to $30 billion in the early years of the next decade. It’s likely that most
customers will primarily afford suborbital trips. But that’s not the whole picture—not just yet.
SpaceX aims to create an industry based on standard routines and tested protocols, relying on inhouse technology when not off-the-shelf. Once again, the company is selling an expensive
service thanks to a de facto monopoly, developing the next service step by step. It’s a climb, and
SpaceX itself is shaping each rung.

The Rise and Dominance

One of the few moments Elon Musk feared failure was after the third Falcon 1 launch. This was
recounted by Walter Isaacson in his latest biography of the space billionaire and in the
documentary Return to Space, which tells the story of SpaceX from its beginnings to the return
of the first crew aboard a Crew Dragon in 2020.
Musk had run out of money; failing the fourth launch after three unsuccessful attempts to reach
orbit would have ended any ambition of reaching Mars—the founding dream of the entire
enterprise. It was the two consecutive successes of the Falcon 1—unexpectedly co-financed by
the self-proclaimed “PayPal Mafia,” the group of entrepreneurs who had ousted Musk from his
first profitable company a decade earlier—that paved the way for NASA contracts. And it marked
the beginning of SpaceX’s nearly uninterrupted rise to the present day.
First, NASA’s Commercial Orbital Transportation Services program provided the boost to develop
the Falcon 9, then the Commercial Resupply Services program to supply the International Space
Station allowed the development of the cargo version of the Dragon capsule. Then, thanks to the
Commercial Crew Program for astronaut transport to the ISS, Crew Dragon was developed. This
series of programs created a solid ecosystem of services, primarily utilized by NASA itself,
capable of funding new transport vehicles within just a few years. SpaceX wasn’t the only player
on the scene, but it was certainly the one that best leveraged public funds to position itself in the
global market—not just institutional.
Today, in addition to selling services to NASA, SpaceX also launches satellites into orbit for U.S.
Defense at higher-than-market prices. This, along with other factors not exempt from criticism,
allows the company to aggressively compete in the market.
The reusability of the first stages of the Falcon 9 (and the Falcon Heavy) has significantly
contributed to making a difference, alongside the reliability, of course. Falcon 9 failures can be
counted on one hand, while the frequency of launches is approaching a daily routine. It’s a
standard operation.

Each piece of this mosaic, when viewed in isolation, reveals little of the full image. But together,
they have allowed SpaceX to achieve a leap in quality and quantity unprecedented in the space
era.
It would be difficult, if not impossible, to estimate how much the boom of the new space economy
is due to the revolution initiated by SpaceX over ten years ago. In fact, the company’s business
model, which many in Europe argue is not immune to dumping practices, has created exponential
demand that the company has been happy to meet. After all, it was and still is the only one
capable of doing so.

A New Step to Climb

In summary, with some simplification: SpaceX has exploited government funds and programs to
develop new launch systems; it continues—thanks to favorable legislation, of course—to sell its
services at high prices to American agencies, institutions, and departments, and then apply lower
prices abroad in the global market, where it is by far the dominant player.
The number of annual launches—98 in 2023, including two Starship tests, and 90 in 2024 as of
September 11—indicates a production quantity and cadence without precedent, allowing the
company to achieve economies of scale and reduce production costs over time. This had never
happened before in the history of space economics.
Another fundamental aspect should not be forgotten: SpaceX has become the queen of satellite
internet service. Starlink, produced in series by the thousands, is another of its devices. And this
technological capacity earned SpaceX a new contract to build a constellation for the Defense
Department’s internet connectivity.
SpaceX isn’t the only major private space company in the world, but it’s the only one that has
consistently exploited every opportunity to raise the bar, often selling services newly created from
scratch. In doing so, it generates new demand from the same institutions that helped make the
company what it is.

A Railing with a View of Mars

Returning to Isaacman and Gillis, who, along with Scott Poteet and Anna Menon, embarked on
the Polaris Dawn mission and gazed out from the Skywalker. Their extravehicular activity, a brief
(24 minutes in total) and somewhat awkward venture into outer space, had various meanings. It
set a record: it was the first EVA of a commercial mission operated by astronauts who had paid
for their ticket to be up there (although Isaacman covered the cost for everyone). The mission
tested new suits designed by SpaceX itself, an evolution of the ones similar to those worn by
astronauts aboard the Crew Dragon—IVA suits. However, the ones worn by Isaacman and Gillis
were pressurized and connected to the capsule by an umbilical cord supplying oxygen,
communications, and power. Much like those worn by cosmonauts and astronauts during early
spacewalks.
SpaceX will improve the spacesuit thanks to these tests and then mass-produce it for future
transport and exploration services (on the Moon, on Mars). It will do so thanks to the tests
conducted by a customer during a mission largely funded by him (although Musk’s company also
contributed to the costs).
How much did all this cost Isaacman? The total price of Polaris Dawn has not been disclosed, but
an estimate can be made: the cost of each ticket aboard a Dragon is around $55 million. It’s likely
that the entire Resilience journey, all expenses included, cost at least a couple of hundred million.
It’s clear from the beginning: the ultimate goal is Mars. Every step that Elon Musk builds after the
one just reached is aimed in that direction. A path that cannot ignore another crucial piece—the
only truly critical one so far: Starship. The development of the first fully reusable launch system in
history is costing astronomical sums and is not progressing as quickly as expected. Yet,
considering the company’s track record, it seems possible.

When Starship becomes operational and if Musk’s promised prices become a reality ($2-3 million
per launch, over 30 times less than a Falcon 9), the virtuous cycle of SpaceX’s business will reach
its peak.
The spacecraft, still in testing—another test has been postponed to November due to yet another
dispute with the Federal Aviation Administration—promises the capacity to transport up to 100
passengers and heralds a new future, not just for tourism but for space transport in general. Even
without reaching the Red Planet, though nothing so far rules it out, SpaceX’s trajectory points
upward without hesitation.
In the last 15 years, the company has made very few mistakes. And that railing is, in its own way,
a symbol of it all. It seems to say: “Hold tight and get ready to enjoy the view.”