What The Hell America!

Despite its promise of progress, Blue Origin’s all-female spaceflight exposed the persistent double standards women face in STEM—where success is still too often judged by sparkle, not substance.

Blue Origin’s “first all-female spaceflight” was framed as a bold step forward, a headline-grabbing moment for women in STEM (science, technology, engineering and math). Positioned as progress meant to encourage girls to pursue STEM and inspire the next generation of explorers, the mission missed a critical opportunity: to celebrate not just the six women aboard, but the thousands of others already leading innovation in science and technology. Instead, it became less about honoring their achievements and more about promoting a glossy, marketable image of what female success should look like.

The focus shifted from substance to spectacle. Rather than celebrating these six accomplished women for their courage or contributions, the spotlight fixated on appearance and celebrity. The message? Women and girls can reach for the stars, but only if they look good doing it.

This subtle expectation is what I call the ‘sparkle trap’: the belief that women and girls can be brilliant and bold, but only if it comes wrapped in glitter and glam. It’s empowerment with conditions, and it starts early.

These six women, leaders in their respective fields, soared into space for 11 minutes, but the media and public reaction revealed a deeper issue. This isn’t about discrediting them. It’s about asking why they bore the brunt of the criticism.

The Atlantic called crew member Katy Perry “the perfect pop star for a dumb stunt.” Fast food chain Wendy’s mocked her in a series of social media posts, including one asking, “Can we send her back?” On X, someone wrote: “As a woman I’m annoyed. As an engineer I’m disgusted.” Others reduced the women to the sexist slur “space bimbos,” ignoring their accomplishments entirely.

In a culture that relentlessly emphasizes how women look, it’s no surprise they were scrutinized for fitting the mold. Meanwhile, the man who orchestrated it all, Jeff Bezos, walked away untouched. When women play into the beauty expectations that patriarchy demands, they’re the ones punished for it. When men use those same expectations to sell progress as spectacle, they’re applauded.

This double standard is nothing new. It’s part of a larger societal pattern, one that starts long before women enter the workforce or step onto a launch pad.

This subtle expectation is what I call the “sparkle trap”: the belief that women and girls can be brilliant and bold, but only if it comes wrapped in glitter and glam. It’s empowerment with conditions, and it starts early.

Take Project Mc², a Netflix series and toy line launched in 2015 to inspire girls in STEM. The premise was promising: four super-smart teenage girls solving problems with science and tech. MGA Entertainment, the toy licensing partner and makers of Bratz dolls, promoted the brand as a way to make “smart the new cool.”

Sounds great, right?

But the accompanying products told a different story. There was the “Color Change Makeup Kit … to create the perfect look for saving the world,” the “UV Nail Maker” for chemistry-inspired nails, and the “Slumber Party Science Kit,” which encouraged girls to make cucumber goggles and rainbow face masks. The message was loud and clear: It’s fine to be smart, just don’t forget to be pretty and stylish while doing it.

This isn’t a one-off. It’s part of a wider pattern.

Gender stereotyping begins early and has lifelong consequences. From the toys girls are given, to the shows and stories they absorb, the message is clear and persistent: Be smart, but not too smart. Lead, but don’t outshine. Dream big, but only if you look good doing it. 

This isn’t empowerment, it’s a trap disguised as progress. When ambition is packaged with beauty standards and likability, it teaches girls that their value lies not just in what they do, but how they act and look while doing it. These contradictions don’t inspire, they confine.

Representation matters, but it must go beyond optics. True progress means dismantling the subtle, persistent rules that dictate not only what women can do, but also how they’re expected to show up while doing it.

From the toys girls are given, to the shows and stories they absorb, the message is clear and persistent: Be smart, but not too smart. Lead, but don’t outshine. Dream big, but only if you look good doing it. 

Blue Origin’s flight was supposed to signal progress. Instead, it reminded us how far we still have to go. I applaud the brave women who went into space and celebrate their accomplishments—not because of how they looked doing it, but because of what they achieved. Until we stop praising women and girls for being powerful only when it’s pretty, and start valuing their achievements without conditions, we’ll keep reinforcing the very stereotypes we claim to outgrow.

We need to build a culture where strength, smarts, and leadership are enough, no glitter required.

The programming starts early. But so can the change.