The International Space Station: What It Is, Where to See It, and What They're Not Telling You

So in 2030, we’re taking the single greatest thing humanity has ever built together and we’re going to drown it in the Pacific Ocean.

That’s the plan. Seriously. NASA’s official line is that the International Space Station, a marvel of engineering that has been continuously crewed since November 2000, will be “deorbited.” It’s a nice, clean, sanitized word. It sounds like a software update. What it means is they’re going to fly a 400-ton, football-field-sized monument to human cooperation into the drink. A controlled crash into the most remote part of the ocean, a place they call Point Nemo. The space cemetery.

I’ve been an aerospace engineer for 30 years, and I’m telling you, this one stings. It’s not just a machine. It’s a promise we made to ourselves after the Cold War, a symbol that maybe, just maybe, we could build something incredible together instead of just pointing missiles at each other. The ISS is a joint effort between the U.S., Russia, Europe, Japan, and Canada. A place where geopolitics is supposed to take a backseat to science. And we’re just… ending it.

The party line is that it's all about progress. Out with the old, in with the new. NASA is “transitioning” to commercially operated space stations. Translation: We’re handing the keys to low-Earth orbit over to whichever company can build the cheapest orbital condo. They’ve already thrown over $400 million at a few companies to get the ball rolling, with more funding promised for whoever can prove they can stick four people in a can for 30 days.

This is a bad idea. No, ‘bad’ doesn’t cover it—this is a five-alarm dumpster fire of an idea. We’re trading a global commons for a series of privately owned toll booths in the sky.

Our One Foothold in the Cosmos? Yeah, We're Scrapping It.

An Obituary for a Star

Before we get to the corporate takeover, let’s talk about what we’re losing. If you’ve never seen the ISS, you need to. Go outside on a clear night, use one of those `international space station tracker` apps, and watch. You’ll see it—a brilliant blue-white point of light, brighter than any star, silently gliding across the heavens. It’s moving at an unbelievable `international space station speed` of 17,500 miles per hour, about 250 miles up. It’s not a UFO; it’s us. It’s humanity’s one, tiny, permanent foothold in the cosmos.

For nearly 25 years, there have always been people up there. Living, working, looking down on this fragile blue marble. They've run over 4,000 experiments. The work done on the ISS has helped develop cancer drugs, grow artificial retinas, and even sequence DNA in zero-g. It’s a laboratory unlike any on Earth. It’s an achievement conceived by the human mind and built by human hands that our ancestors couldn’t have even dreamed of. And we’re going to sink it.

The justification is always money, isn't it? The `international space station cost` is immense, offcourse. But what’s the cost of inspiration? What’s the price tag on a kid in Arkansas looking up at the `international space station arkansas` flyover and deciding to become a scientist instead of a hedge fund manager? This reminds me of my town council voting to close the public library to save a few bucks so they could give a tax break to a new vape shop. Priorities, right?

The Great Orbital Fire Sale

The New Landlords of Low-Earth Orbit

So what comes next? NASA, in its infinite wisdom, has decided to become a customer instead of a leader. They’ve used commercial partners like SpaceX to ferry people and cargo before, and that’s worked out okay. But this is different. This is outsourcing our entire presence in orbit.

The dream they’re selling is a vibrant commercial ecosystem. The reality is that we’re just creating orbital business parks. And let’s be real, who do we think is going to be running these things? The same handful of billionaires who are already trying to sell us everything else. We’re supposed to believe this is a bold new chapter, but it feels like the epilogue of an era. An era when we did something for the sake of doing it, for science, for all of us.

Meanwhile, China’s Tiangong space station is up there, permanently crewed for about four years now. They’re not talking about drowning their national achievement in the ocean. They’re building. While we’re busy arranging a funeral for ours. They’re playing the long game, and we’re… cashing out.

Maybe I’m just being nostalgic. Maybe this is progress and I’m just the dinosaur yelling at the asteroid. But it feels hollow. It feels like we’re taking this incredible, shared human project and auctioning off the pieces. They expect us to be excited about this, and honestly...

So, for the next six years, do yourself a favor. Look up. Find out `where is the international space station now` and watch it fly over. Watch that silent, brilliant star arc across the sky. Because it ain’t just a satellite. It’s the best of us. And soon, it’ll be gone.

So We're Trading a Cathedral for a Strip Mall

Reference article source：

• NASA Will Crash The International Space Station in 2030. Here's What Comes Next. - ScienceAlert