With Bill Gates retreating from his high-profile climate crusade, the stage has opened for more unconventional actors to step into the planetary arena. Enter Elon Musk, the chief executive of SpaceX and self-styled architect of humanity’s future in space.
This week, Musk floated an audacious vision: a vast swarm of orbiting satellites, not merely to beam internet or data, but to harvest solar energy and regulate how much sunlight reaches Earth. On Monday, he wrote on his platform X:
A large solar-powered AI satellite constellation would be able to prevent global warming by making tiny adjustments in how much solar energy reached Earth.
It is not an isolated musing. Musk already commands more than 8,000 satellites in orbit, making SpaceX the single largest operator in low Earth orbit. His company is also deeply integrated with the U.S. defense and intelligence establishment, providing secure communications and reconnaissance support. And as one of Donald Trump’s biggest donors and technology contractors, Musk stands at the intersection of private ambition and state power.
The announcement reignited debate over geoengineering — also known as solar radiation modification (SRM) — a highly controversial concept to cool the planet by deflecting sunlight. Many observers, weary of climate-doomsday narratives and wary of billionaire “saviors,” have urged Musk to refrain from “playing God.”
The Technical Blueprint
Musk’s posts were brief, but behind them lie two vast engineering ambitions — one focused on solar power, the other on climate control. To most readers, it may sound like science fiction, yet the ideas are grounded in real, if speculative, physics.
Satellites to Capture the Sun
The first part of Musk’s plan involves satellites that would collect solar energy directly in space. He mentioned harnessing 100 gigawatts per year through an array of orbiting satellites launched by SpaceX’s upcoming Starship rocket. For perspective, one gigawatt equals the output of a large nuclear power plant.
Space-based solar power isn’t new, but it has never advanced beyond early experiments. The principle is simple: Sunlight in space is stronger because it’s unfiltered by Earth’s atmosphere. In orbit, solar panels could generate power 24 hours a day, unaffected by clouds or night.
The challenge is transmitting that energy back to Earth. Musk’s vision likely involves converting solar power into microwave or laser beams, then directing them to ground-based receivers. In theory, it could supply clean electricity to power grids or floating data centers. In practice, it would require precise targeting and vast safety controls to prevent energy loss or harm.
Musk also hinted at an even grander future — moon-based factories building AI satellites directly on the lunar surface. At that scale, he suggested, new satellites could generate hundreds of terawatts of power. That would surpass humanity’s current total energy use of about 17-20 terawatts.
Satellites as Planetary Thermostats
The second part of Musk’s vision goes further. Instead of just harvesting sunlight, these satellites could also control how much sunlight reaches Earth.
In his words, the swarm would “make tiny adjustments” to solar energy, cooling or warming the planet as needed. The method would rely on reflective or shading mechanisms — surfaces capable of angling themselves to deflect a small fraction of the Sun’s rays.
This would amount to a space-based version of geoengineering. Two of its best-known techniques are Stratospheric Aerosol Injection (SAI) and brightening clouds over oceans. Musk’s version moves the concept off-world, replacing chemistry with orbital mechanics.
To work, such a system would require:
- Tens of thousands of satellites in synchronized orbits;
- Real-time controls adjusting reflectivity;
- Ultra-precise orientation – each satellite shifting its angle within fractions of a degree; and
- Massive computing power, likely managed by AI, to coordinate the swarm.
The complexity is staggering. Yet the scale of Musk’s proposal goes far beyond engineering challenge. It reflects a civilizational leap — a vision of humanity extending its control beyond the planet. The idea, for all its ambition, is not new, though; it echoes concepts imagined more than half a century ago.
The Dyson Sphere and the Kardashev Dream
This ambition echoes ideas from 1960s physics, especially the Dyson sphere — a vast cloud of satellites orbiting a star to capture its energy. The concept, first proposed by physicist Freeman Dyson, was a thought experiment about how advanced civilizations might power themselves.
Science fiction later turned it into legend. In a “Star Trek: The Next Generation” episode titled “Relics,” the crew encounters a Dyson sphere — a colossal structure encasing an entire star, built by an ancient civilization that had harnessed enough energy to power countless worlds.
Musk invoked the same idea when he urged followers to “Think in terms of Kardashev II.” The Kardashev Scale, proposed in 1964 by Soviet astronomer Nikolai Kardashev, measures civilizations by how much energy they can access:
- Type I: harnesses all energy available on its planet
- Type II: captures the full output of its star
- Type III: draws power from an entire galaxy
By those standards, humanity is still far below Type I. Musk’s remarks suggest he sees our destiny as cosmic — leaping beyond planetary limits toward direct control of the Sun’s output.
In practical terms, his AI solar swarm would be a small experimental step toward that vision. Symbolically, though, it redefines humanity’s relationship with the star that sustains life.
Risks of Rewriting the Climate
Altering how much sunlight reaches Earth both fascinates and alarms scientists. Advocates call it an emergency kit. Skeptics call it hubris.
The risks are existential. A miscalibrated shading system could disrupt rainfall, collapse ecosystems, or trigger abrupt warming known as termination shock. A single error could push food systems past their limits and make regions unlivable. Even the architects of such projects seem aware of that danger. The growing fascination among elites with bunkers, remote compounds, and self-sufficient hideouts reveals an unspoken admission that their own interventions could go catastrophically wrong.
Then comes governance. Who decides when, how, and how much to dim the Sun? What is the “right” temperature for eight billion people living in different climates and economies? A few degrees too much shading could destroy harvests or freeze regions that depend on warmth. The power to regulate sunlight is the power to decide who prospers and who starves.
And if the effort failed — or caused new crises — the likely response from those in charge would be not restraint but consolidation. They would claim that failure proves the need for stronger oversight, more coordination, and stricter control of human behavior. In trying to “fix the climate,” they would tighten their grip on society.
That is the real danger. The line between state and corporate power has already blurred, forming a technocratic bloc that uses “climate policy” (among other “common threats”) as moral cover for planetary management. The rhetoric is humanitarian, but the design is unmistakably managerial — a system that treats Earth as a programmable asset and sunlight itself as a resource to be rationed.
Efrat Fenigson: Catastrophic Risks of Solar Geoengineering
White House Report Explores Blocking Sunlight to Prevent Warming of Earth
Scientists Promote Geoengineering as a Cure for Climate Change
