In space, reputation matters. But if you’re a startup — especially one that hasn’t yet flown anything — how exactly are you supposed to build a reputation?
This is the paradox every early-stage space company faces. Space heritage is the gold standard, but by definition, you only get it after flying. And flying takes time, money, and patience. So, what do you do while you’re waiting for that first flight?
The answer — though rarely discussed — is deceptively simple:
You earn a reputation by being constructive. You build credibility not by insisting your idea is the best, but by showing up, joining the conversation, and engaging seriously with the problems others are already trying to solve.
Too often, we confuse reputation with bragging rights. We think the goal is to impress — to make a splash, get quoted, be seen as the smartest person in the room.
But in the space industry, reputation isn’t about attention. It’s about being recognized for your contribution. And contribution doesn’t start with solving a problem. It starts with showing up, listening carefully, and helping others think through their challenges — even if your solution isn’t the one they need.
In a field where the problems are complex and the stakes are high, that kind of posture — thoughtful, constructive, contributing — gets remembered. Because there is no shortage of people in this business with clever ideas. What’s scarce — and what gets remembered — is someone who actually wants to understand the system they’re entering.
Founders often fall into the trap of thinking their credibility comes from their technology and their “smarts”. So, they push to explain how they have come up with something new, that no one has thought of before and why their widget is faster, smaller, lighter, or cheaper.
But that’s not what gets noticed.
What gets noticed is the person who shows up curious. Who listens more than they pitch. Who asks: “Can you help me understand why this part is so hard?” And who doesn’t rush in with a fix before understanding the constraints.
In other words: someone who treats the space community not as an audience for their brilliance, but as a complex system worth learning from. Someone who shows up believing that they don’t already know the answers to all the questions. But that they might have some questions that are worth answering.
Because this industry is complex — technically, politically, and culturally. It’s also full of people who have been learning lessons the hard way for a long time. So, people notice when someone takes the time to really engage. This business is, in fact, open to innovation. It just isn’t open to people who think they know the answer before they understand the question.
So, this is the conundrum for founders who genuinely have something to offer. If you want to fly, eventually you’ll need customers. And those customers — whether they are prime contractors, government agencies, or downstream integrators — are not looking for outsiders with answers.
They are looking for people they already trust to help solve the problems they already have. And, obviously, that isn’t you. But it can be you – if you are willing to work at it.
Customer’s trust is often built long before any formal partnership is signed. It’s built when someone remembers you as the person who asked good questions at the roundtable. The one who followed up after the panel. The one who offered to introduce them to someone working on a similar challenge. The one who was present — and useful — in the room.
There’s a reason repeat suppliers keep getting work: trust is compounding. But that process starts earlier than you think. Before trust comes familiarity. Before familiarity comes visibility. And before visibility, there has to be presence.
If you want to be trusted, you have to show up, even when showing up is not directly connected to a specific opportunity. You have to show up and be interested in what everyone else is talking about. This is how you find the opportunities. If you are part of the conversation, you will not only hear about opportunities earlier. You will also have a chance to “shape” those opportunities so that you can participate. This is not insider trading. This is the way the business works. Those who show up and contribute get the chance to make contributions that end up benefiting themselves.
Unfortunately, in the market today, one of the reasons founders struggle with this is that many of them are getting advice — often from investors — that comes from a very different kind of market.
In software, in consumer tech, in enterprise IT, the formula for early growth is well known build a minimum viable product, push it out fast, refine through customer feedback, and sell hard. Get on stage, go viral, build buzz. Growth comes from penetration, and penetration comes from velocity.
But that simply does not work in space. Despite what investors from other tech sectors might think.
In space, you’re not “penetrating a market” — you are entering a community. And this community doesn’t reward pitch decks or charm. It rewards contribution.
I often hear investors used to high-intensity sales cycles pushing founders to “sell more aggressively.” They’ll urge you to polish your story, chase warm intros, tighten your close. But if you walk into a meeting with a mission integrator or an agency program office acting like you have the killer app to solve their problems and that they need to buy your solution today, you’ll be met with polite indifference — and remembered for all the wrong reasons.
Maybe in some businesses, relationship selling is something you graduate to once you’re trying to land big accounts. In space, it’s how everything works from day one.
Constructive relationships are what generate sales. And those relationships aren’t built on persuasion — they’re built on a shared understanding of the problem space.
That’s why “warm introductions” are overrated in this business. Sure, they can get you a meeting. But if your reputation hasn’t preceded you — if you haven’t already made a contribution or at least shown an interest in the customer’s world — the meeting likely goes nowhere.
Reputation, in space, is the only reliable foot in the door. But here’s the good news: because the community is small, it doesn’t take much to become visible. A few thoughtful conference presentations. A panel or two where you ask good questions. Participation in a technical working group or a standards committee. A reputation for being thoughtful spreads quickly — and it spreads in the places where decisions get made.
Ironically, in a community this small, you’ll build credibility faster by going slow. By showing up without an agenda. By being interested in what others are working on. By offering help, even when it doesn’t obviously benefit you.
This is not “networking.” It’s apprenticeship. It’s becoming known as someone worth talking to.
So, let’s be absolutely clear: in the absence of flight heritage, your reputation is your credibility. It’s your substitute for demonstrated performance. And that’s how you get over the risk threshold that customers in space have to manage.
In a business where failure is expensive, everyone is looking for partners who reduce their risk — not by what they say, but by how they behave. That’s why a reputation for being constructive, reliable, and engaged can carry you farther than any product demo or flashy pitch deck.
If you’re just starting out, the temptation will be to focus on the product. But in this industry, your early product is you — or more specifically, your presence in the community.
If you want to fly, start by showing up. Listen. Ask good questions. Be useful. Because in space, what gets remembered is not how early you had the answer — but how deeply you understood the problem.