It was inevitable. Humanity, in its boundless wisdom, had wired itself so thoroughly into its own digital ecosystem that even the sky wasn’t safe. Satellites—those tiny metal prophets in the thermosphere—were multiplying, racing each other into orbit. Each one was another blinking eye in the great, watchful network, ensuring that no one was ever truly alone again.
Nations and corporations alike scrambled to make deals with the space-faring telecom overlords, desperate to ensure their citizens and customers were never more than a signal away from the great humming machine. Airlines promised seamless Netflix at 35,000 feet. Phone makers, realizing that people feared nothing more than a lost connection, started building satellite links right into their devices. It was a good time to be in the rocket business.
But beyond the obvious conveniences, beyond the soothing hum of always-on connectivity, something else was at play. The rise of artificial intelligence had created a world that could no longer function offline. The machines—our little digital assistants, our talking home speakers, our algorithmic oracles—needed an uninterrupted flow of data. They could no more be cut off from the cloud than a human could be cut off from oxygen.
“We’re still very much dependent on the cloud because things are changing so fast,” Anshel Sag, principal analyst at Moor Insights & Strategy, told Wired in an interview. “You can’t just deploy an AI model to an endpoint and expect that you’re not going to have to update that model pretty regularly.”
And so, the satellites rose. And the AI grew stronger.
The Internet of (Doomed) Things
The Internet of Things was once a utopian fantasy—an interconnected landscape of smart fridges, sentient thermostats, and chatty vacuum cleaners. But in practice, it had stumbled. These devices, isolated and lacking in reliable connectivity, had struggled to live up to their promise. Now, with satellite coverage expanding, they were being given a second chance.
“I think IoT will become more relevant,” Sag mused. “Because satellite connectivity will enable more IoT devices to feed back into AI.”
Consider the implications: A world where every object—your car, your luggage, your toaster—feeds real-time data into a great, collective intelligence orbiting above your head. Machines watching machines, whispering secrets to one another at the speed of light. If that thought made you uneasy, well, too late.
The Starlink Leviathan
Of course, no discussion of satellite internet would be complete without acknowledging its reigning king: Starlink. With over 4.5 million subscribers and counting, the SpaceX-backed network had done the impossible—bringing broadband to places fiber feared to tread. Its influence had seeped into the highest levels of power, even securing a place at the White House.
But not all were thrilled about Starlink’s omnipresence. Some recoiled at the thought of placing their connectivity in the hands of a man known for erratic decisions and an aversion to regulations. Others pointed to more sinister uses—like the criminal organization in Myanmar that had used Starlink to keep its slavery-fueled scam empire online.
Still, for many, Starlink was nothing short of a technological miracle. It kept rural homes connected, military units online, and cruise ship passengers comfortably distracted from the vast and terrifying ocean. Even T-Mobile had hitched its wagon to Starlink’s celestial train, allowing customers in dead zones to seamlessly switch from terrestrial networks to orbiting relays.
“They worked extremely closely with Google and Apple to make sure that this was a super, super easy experience,” Sag said. “You don’t need an app and you don’t have to click any buttons. It just works.”
The machines had become so good, so ubiquitous, that they now functioned without our input. The ghost in the machine had learned to move without a push.
A Sky Full of Beeping Eyes
Of course, Starlink wasn’t the only player in the race. The European Union had its own satellite megaproject. Amazon, not content with simply dominating Earth, was launching thousands of its own satellites under Project Kuiper. China, unwilling to be left behind, had sent up three competing networks. Apple had invested billions into Globalstar, ensuring that its devices could call for help even from the most remote, signal-starved wastelands.
“The advantage of these global constellations and why we’re building them is that they have global coverage,” said Ian Christensen, senior director at the Secure World Foundation. “You don’t worry about being in a place where you connect with a Starlink satellite, but not a Globalstar satellite.”
The dream—the nightmare—of seamless global connectivity was nearly realized. Soon, it wouldn’t matter where you were, who you were, or what you were doing. The sky would always be watching. The machines would always be listening. Your data—your thoughts, your movements, your very existence—would always be part of the system.
The Final Connection
Not everyone was convinced this was a good idea. Some whispered concerns about sustainability—about the environmental impact of flinging thousands of satellites into low-Earth orbit without considering the long-term consequences. Others pointed out that satellite speeds still lagged behind terrestrial broadband, and that a world increasingly dependent on AI and real-time data transfer might soon outgrow even the most ambitious constellations.
But the launch sequences continued. The rockets ignited. The satellites deployed. The grid expanded.
“Fundamentally, I think it will become standardized that all phones have satellite connectivity,” Sag concluded. “Because the value of saving a life is literally priceless. I wouldn’t want to go out into a place where I don’t have service without it.”
Maybe that was the real point. Not the AI. Not the IoT. Not even the corporate empires jockeying for control of the heavens. Maybe, when all was said and done, it was about something simpler. The ancient, primal fear of being alone. Of vanishing from the grid, even for a moment.
And so, we filled the sky with machines. And prayed they would never stop watching.