The Spire and the Scraps
Remarks from TPEX consultancy for decision makers.
Written SH on 2025-08-18.
Tagged remark wealth economics
The Old Man had seen it all. He remembered the before-times, when humanity’s dreams were still Earthbound and the sky was a promise, not a corporate ledger. Now, he sat in his small, dusty hovel on the edge of the sprawling metropolis, staring at the impossible Spire. It wasn’t just a building; it was a vertical city of polished chrome and shimmering glass, reaching so high it seemed to kiss the stars. The Spire was the heart of the Corporation, the seat of the people who now ruled not just Earth, but Mars, the asteroid belts, and beyond.
A young woman, a mechanic with grease permanently smudged on her cheek, sat beside him, tinkering with a malfunctioning drone. “They say it’s self-sufficient,” she grumbled, nodding toward the Spire. “Has its own hydroponic gardens, atmospheric recyclers… everything. They don’t need us anymore.” The Old Man grunted. “They never needed us. They just needed what we had. First, it was our land. Then, it was our labor. Now, it’s our planet.”
He explained how it had started. The initial rush to space was hailed as a new dawn for all of humanity. But the price of admission was astronomical, and only a handful of corporations could afford the ticket. They sold the dream of a new life off-world, but the reality was far more stratified. The elite–the financiers, the engineers, the executives–were the first to colonize Mars, building pristine domed cities and harvesting the planet’s resources. Meanwhile, on Earth, the rest of humanity was left behind, a vast and increasingly irrelevant population whose only purpose was to service the logistical needs of the transplanetary elite.
“They promised we would all benefit from the wealth of the cosmos,” the young woman said bitterly. “But the wealth just went… up.” She pointed to the drone she was repairing. “This thing hauls scrap metal from the old rocket graveyards. We get paid in Corporation credits, which are only good for food rations and rent. The real money, the kind that buys a one-way ticket to Mars, is only for those who already have it.” The Old Man told her about the political rifts that had begun to form. The “Terrans,” as they were now called by the off-worlders, grew more and more resentful. Their governments, once independent, were now little more than puppet states, their economies dependent on the whims of the Corporation. On Mars, a new kind of society was taking shape–one of sleek efficiency and technological marvels, but devoid of the messy, unpredictable culture of Earth. They saw themselves as superior, a new race of human beings forged in the stars.
“It’s not just a class war anymore,” the Old Man said, his voice quiet. “It’s a civil war in the making. And this time, it’s not between nations. It’s between planets.”
He told her of whispers of sabotage in the asteroid mines, of off-world cargo ships mysteriously disappearing, and of independent colonies trying to break free from the Corporation’s iron grip. The system of planetary feudalism was beginning to crack. Just then, a news bulletin flickered on a nearby screen. The Spire’s automated defense systems had detected a malfunction. A crucial piece of infrastructure was failing, and the advanced technicians who could fix it were on a long-haul voyage to the asteroid belt. The Corporation was scrambling for a solution, but the necessary parts and expertise were not easily found in their isolated ecosystem.
The young woman looked up from her drone, a glimmer of an idea in her eyes. “Maybe they do need us after all,” she said, holding up a small, custom-made wrench she’d fashioned from a piece of scrap. “Their pristine, perfect system has no room for imperfection. But we… we live in it. We know how to fix things with nothing but our hands and a little bit of creative desperation.”
The Old Man smiled, a long-lost hope returning to his face. The Corporation had built a beautiful, shining world for the few, but they had forgotten the most fundamental rule of all: a structure built on a cracked foundation is destined to fall. And the crack, he realized, was not just on Earth, but in the heart of humanity itself.
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