Autor: orbitalyx

There is a strange paradox in the space sector. The biggest breakthroughs often happen in the smallest rooms. While mega trade shows pull the crowds, it is the niche, tightly curated conferences that quietly move the real technical conversation forward. These events prioritise expertise over square meters and attract people who arrive with purpose, curiosity, and real hands-on experience.

1. Winter Satellite Workshop, Espoo, Finland

https://spaceworkshop.fi
Winter Satellite Workshop is recognised as one of the strongest technical programs in Europe and shows how a small, focused conference can deliver exceptional depth. Sessions on remote sensing, Earth observation, mission operations, and payload design set a high academic and engineering standard. The atmosphere is direct and practical, with early morning discussions about calibration or sensor performance happening over coffee with the people who actually build and operate these systems.

2. SSSIF, Málaga, Spain

https://sssif.com
Small Satellites & Services International Forum in Málaga offers one of the highest networking densities in the smallsat ecosystem. Because the venue is compact and the attendee list curated, meaningful conversations happen naturally and frequently. Manufacturers, integrators, operators, and researchers meet in an environment designed for real exchange rather than wandering. The result is a boutique event where partnerships form quickly and where each discussion has genuine technical and commercial value.

3. SDSC, Tallinn, Estonia

https://sdsc.ee
Software Defined Space Conference in Tallinn reflects Estonia’s long-term commitment to cybersecurity and emerging technologies. The conference has a sharp scope, bringing together experts on space systems, security, software, and mission resilience. Estonia’s mindset of precision and digital innovation shapes the entire event. Attendees come to learn, share insights, and collaborate on concrete challenges rather than perform high-level presentations. SDSC is designed for people who value signal over noise and who want to deepen their understanding of secure space systems.

4. Czech Space Week, Czech Republic

https://www.czechspaceweek.com/
Czech Space Week shows how a small country can redefine its space industry through strategic coordination and strong institutional support. The national space strategy and the Czech Journey to Space program set a clear direction for future growth, while the upcoming Czech astronaut mission to the ISS demonstrates the ecosystem’s maturity. Home-developed experiments will fly to the ISS. National delegations visit Prague and Brno to explore partnerships with Czech companies. Government, academia, and industry participate actively, making this event a perfect example of how a boutique conference can elevate an entire national ecosystem.

5. The Reader’s Choice

The fifth boutique conference belongs to the reader. The space sector is full of small, focused events that play a vital role in shaping knowledge, building trust, and strengthening communities. If you know a niche conference where real conversations happen and where builders meet other builders, it deserves a place on this list. Share it, support it, and help it grow. These are the places where ideas move from discussion to implementation.

Big Trade Shows

Mega events like SmallSat in Utah, Satellite in Washington, and the Space Tech Expo Europe in Bremen remain essential. They gather the entire supply chain in one place, bring high visibility, and offer unmatched opportunities for business development. You meet manufacturers, investors, suppliers, operators, and institutions across every orbit and every segment. These shows help companies understand the global landscape, discover new technologies, and position themselves in front of thousands of potential partners. Big trade shows shape the market and define the momentum of the industry.

So what should you do?

Use niche events to sharpen your knowledge, make meaningful connections, and dive into the technical depth. Use large expos to expand your network, explore new opportunities, and strengthen your business pipeline. The smartest teams combine both formats to stay informed, visible, and competitive in a rapidly evolving sector.

There is something almost theatrical about walking through Spacetech Expo in Bremen. Hall after hall, booth after booth, person after person. Everyone glowing with ambition, clutching a pitch deck, polishing a sentence, preparing their fifteen minutes of fame.

You see it on every corner.
The moment you open your mouth, someone is already waiting for their turn to speak, not yours.
They do not ask questions.
They interrupt.
They talk over each other.
They elevate themselves in conversations that were never about ego in the first place.

And somewhere in between all the noise, something very important gets lost.
Actual listening.

Listening is not passive. It is an active skill.

Listening is the soft skill that decides whether you build a real partnership or walk away with just a business card you will never use again.
Listening is understanding what the other person needs.
It is empathy in action.
And it is the fastest way to discover unexpected opportunities.

Because here is the truth no one wants to admit:
You learn nothing when you are speaking.
You learn when you pause, observe, and let the other person unfold their world.

The most underestimated skill in the space industry

The NewSpace world loves to talk about innovation, disruption, vertical integration, agile processes, and every other buzzword on the menu. But empathy is somehow still treated as a nice-to-have.

People forget that collaboration starts with listening.
Learning starts with listening.
Trust starts with listening.

A booth conversation is not a performance stage. It is a moment to understand the person in front of you, their challenges, their vision, their frustrations, and their passion. That is where long-term partnerships actually begin. And that is where your next breakthrough may be hiding.

Give others the mic

At events, the most memorable conversations are rarely the ones where someone recites their achievements. They are the ones where someone genuinely asks.

How are you building this
Why did you choose this approach
What did you learn
What do you need
Where can we help each other

Every time you give someone else space to speak, you open a door.
You show respect.
You build trust.
You invite collaboration.

And most importantly, you discover things you would have never learned if you had been busy selling yourself.

The quiet skill that creates loud results

Listening is not passive. It is strategic.
When you truly listen, people open up. They share more. They bring you into their world.
This is where real cooperation begins, long before any contract is signed or any service is purchased.

The irony is simple.
The people who listen the most end up with the best opportunities.
The ones who talk the most end up with the shortest conversations.

A better space industry starts with better conversations

Walking out of Bremen this year, one thought stayed with me.
No matter how fast rockets get and how advanced satellites become, the human side of the industry still runs on one simple skill.
Listening.

Be curious.
Be present.
Leave space for others.
That is where real connections start.

The Real Imposters of the Space Industry

There is a group of people often mistaken for imposters.
They doubt themselves, they try, they fail, they learn, and they keep going.
They belong in space, even if they sometimes forget it.

This story is not about them.

This is about the other imposters.
The ones who never doubt anything.
The ones who speak loudly, pose confidently, and collect applause for work that was never theirs.

The industry celebrates them with panels, headlines, and shiny biographies.
And somewhere behind the stage, the people who actually built things remain quiet.
Because they were too busy working to perform.

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The Ones Who Did Not Build It

They are easy to recognise. They use “we” like a shield.
We developed. We designed. We built.

Except “we” often means “someone else did it, and I showed up later.”

They never saw the months of failure that preceded the success. They were not there when the prototype collapsed, or when a launch slipped, or when the budget vanished overnight.
But they arrive at the moment when everything starts looking presentable.

And somehow, the people who made it happen fade into the background of their story.
Visibility has become the new authorship.

Ask them anything specific, and their confidence leaks air. But confidence alone seems to be the main qualification now.

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The Data Collectors

There is a different breed that does not steal stories, but information.
A diagram here. A report there. Screenshots of dashboards that were never meant to be public.

A little editing, a few words changed, a new logo, and suddenly someone else’s result becomes their “concept.”
The digital age made theft easy and accountability difficult.

And because the space sector is so small, you always recognise it when it happens.
You see your own work staring back at you, translated into another language, another style, another company identity.

You point it out politely. You receive silence.
You think of going public, but you remember that the industry protects the comfortable.
And so the imposters keep growing, confident that decency will keep their victims quiet.

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The Pretend Founders

They appear after everything is done.
The ones who suddenly become “key people” in projects they never touched.
They were not there when the paperwork collapsed under its own bureaucracy, or when deadlines had to be saved with unpaid overtime.
But when the results come, they take their place in the photographs.

They begin rewriting history line by line.
A few edited press releases later, and the internet believes them.
Because archives are slow, and attention spans are shorter than memory.

The most painful part is that they are not lying to deceive a crowd.
They are lying to feel important.

And the industry, obsessed with visibility, keeps rewarding them for it.

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The Branding Borrowers

There are also the ones who copy style.
Not ideas, not data, but appearance.
They take your design, your colours, your phrases, your structure. They study how you speak until they sound like you.

They steal voice, not product.
And in a field that treats originality as luxury, this too becomes survival.

They will say they were “inspired.”
But inspiration leaves a trace of respect.
This kind leaves only fingerprints.

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The Local Reflection

In the Balkans, this takes on another layer.
Here, the stage is smaller, the egos are not.
The space industry is young, the hunger for recognition is enormous, and credit is treated like currency.

Lately, a few voices have begun speaking as if they were behind achievements they never touched.
They borrow the language of those who actually built something; even when that work was done by volunteers, unpaid, driven only by belief.

They call themselves founders, leaders, pioneers, and yet they never assembled a board, never built a component, and never tested a circuit.
They use the success of others as scaffolding for their own image.

And now, they have started mentoring young, unknowing entrepreneurs, offering advice from a career they never had.
The cycle continues: false legacy built on borrowed work, spreading confusion to the next generation.

It is not just dishonest. It is cruel.
Because it takes advantage of hope.

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The System That Protects Them

They thrive because the system allows them to.
Conferences reward visibility, not contribution.
Articles copy press releases without fact-checking.
Funding bodies look for familiar names, not real builders.

If you are loud, you are seen.
If you are quiet, you are used.

And so, the real engineers, and volunteers fade from the frame, while someone else tells their story for them.

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The Tragedy

Some imposters do not disappear.
Some become successful.
Their false narratives harden into history, and by the time anyone questions it, it is already too late.

Their names stay attached to things they never made.
Their empty expertise gets quoted, shared, and funded.
And the people who actually worked for it have to watch their creation used as a prop in someone else’s performance.

It is not karma. It is tragedy.
Because sometimes, in this industry, truth is too quiet to matter.

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For the Builders

If you are one of the builders, you already know what this feels like.
You have seen your name erased, your contribution diluted, your effort claimed by someone who never even thanked you.
You have learned to stay calm, to stay silent, to keep moving.

But remember this: the imposter’s success may be visible, yet it is hollow.
Their recognition is built on something that never belonged to them, and it will never fill the void of knowing they did not earn it.

Keep building.
Not for them, and not for applause.
But because real work is still the only thing that matters.

And when everything else fades, the truth remains printed in metal, code, and memory: where no press release can reach it.

(A case study in zero research)

You know the type.
They connect with you on LinkedIn, and before you can even decide if you like their profile picture, your inbox turns into a sales brochure.

“Hey Daniela, hope you’re doing great! Are you looking to outsource your marketing, web design, emotional well-being, or solar panel distribution?”

No hello. No context. Just a pitch fired faster than a Starlink batch launch.

And when you think that’s bad, wait for the “Are you hiring?” crowd.
The ones who have clearly not read a single word of your website, your posts, or even your headline.
They just click connect and send CV to everyone with a pulse and a logo.
It’s not networking, it’s professional spam with delusions of strategy.

Then there’s the “PR for $400 on a random blog” offer.
As if paying someone to publish a recycled article on a portal last updated during the Mesozoic era will suddenly make your company famous.

I get it, everyone is trying to sell, connect, survive. But here is a wild thought:
Maybe read what the person actually does first.
Maybe ask something human.
Maybe stop treating LinkedIn like a vending machine for leads.

Until then, my inbox remains a galactic landfill of cold pitches and unresearched job requests,
a place where good intentions go to die and sales strategies go to copy-paste heaven.

(*A survival guide to navigating small minds with big titles)

There is a special kind of person in every industry, the one who never built, launched, designed, or led anything meaningful, yet somehow sits in the chair that decides who gets to try.

They have the vocabulary of visionaries, the confidence of philosophers, and the track record of a damp sponge.

They are the gatekeepers of progress. The self-appointed quality control of dreams.

In space, they come dressed in the logos of agencies, committees, and institutions. They throw around big words like “standards” and “strategic alignment” while quietly dismantling the very innovation they claim to support.

You know the type. The one who calls CubeSats “toys.” The one who dismisses entire missions, countries, or companies with a single smirk, as if something must be worthless simply because it did not come from their own desk.

They are not defending excellence; they are defending their relevance.

Because for them, a satellite built by a small team in a small country is a threat. Not to science, but to ego. It proves that talent and passion do not need their approval. That access to orbit is not reserved for those with the right accent, budget, or business card.

And that is unforgivable.

So they call it trash. They mock. They condescend. All while never having built anything themselves, not even a prototype, let alone a piece of history.

It is almost poetic how mediocrity seeks power. The smaller the person, the larger the title they crave. The weaker the substance, the stronger the need to control.

Unfortunately, the industry keeps promoting these people. Because bureaucracy rewards safety, not courage. It rewards those who agree in meetings, not those who dare to question them.

And that is how innovation dies. Not in explosions or failed launches, but in meeting rooms filled with frightened egos guarding the status quo.

The good news is that reality does not care.

Physics does not bend to office politics. Orbits do not discriminate by nationality. Space does not care who you are, only whether your work holds.

And that is the part they will never understand.

Because while they talk about “strategic purpose” and “commercial maturity,” others are actually flying, learning, and daring. Because progress is not always profitable, and not every mission exists to feed a market report. Some are meant to inspire, to educate, or simply to prove that ambition does not need permission. And the future will always belong to those who dare.

Because nothing says “we value your opinion” like a neatly designed survey or a post-event questionnaire that no one ever reads again. The modern black hole: feedback collected, stored, and promptly forgotten.

Here’s the thing: listening to feedback is horrible. It stings. It means admitting you missed a mark, disappointed someone, or left a blind spot wide open. Even on a personal level, being told “this could be better” doesn’t exactly feel like a warm hug. It’s uncomfortable.

But ignoring it is worse.
In business, it creates a culture where people stop speaking up. Customers learn their voice has no effect. Teams keep repeating the same mistakes. And once that trust is gone, no amount of “open door policy” slogans will bring it back.

Feedback is like star trackers. Small, unglamorous sensors quietly pointing out that you are a little off course. Annoying at times, but vital. Because if you stop listening to them, you lose orientation completely.

So next time you ask for feedback, remember: do not collect it unless you plan to act on it. Otherwise, you are just drifting in the dark, convinced you are on the right path while your mission slowly slips away.

Opinion Leaders or Algorithm Pleasers?

The Frustration

Scroll. Like. Scroll. Click. Gone.
A four-word post with a Canva background gets 1,200 likes. A recycled Elon quote framed as “disruption” gets reposted by 3 VC bros. Meanwhile, your 1,500-word essay on satellite data standards is seen by 42 people.
And one of them is your mum. (Thanks, mum.)

We all see it. And we all feel it. But no one wants to say it because the algorithm rewards applause, not impact. And space people are starting to play along.

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The Reality of the Feed

The average attention span is down to 7 seconds, which, in orbital terms, is shorter than one ground station pass.

So who wins in that window?

• Not the deep-divers.
• Not the educators.
• Not the people building actual space hardware.

The winners are the dopamine-pushers. The carousels shouting “Redefining Space” with no mission, no roadmap, no launch.

Meanwhile, you spent the week debugging an FPGA. You fixed thermal stability. You got a new antenna to deploy. But you did not post. So in the algorithm’s eyes? You do not exist.

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Performative Thought Leadership

NewSpace is now full of people who look like leaders online – until you ask them what their company actually does.

You will not find a datasheet. You will not find a satellite. But you will find a 10-slide carousel titled “How We Disrupt In-Orbit Servicing With a Remote-First Culture” – made in Figma.

Real thought leadership is now buried under a pile of manufactured hot takes. The algorithm favors whoever can say the loudest thing the fastest, not the truest thing with context.

So the loudest win. And the real ones get tired.

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Real Influence Takes Time

If you are working on real missions, your visibility is probably lagging behind your delivery. That is not a failure. That is reality.

In space, everything takes longer. So does building trust.

Opinion leadership is not about going viral. It is about becoming memorable. When the next opportunity comes, who do they call? The person who posted the loudest? Or the one who quietly delivered over and over again?

Some of the most trusted figures in space rarely post. But when they do, people listen. That is influence.

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Keep Showing Up

You do not need to become a content machine. But you do need to show up.

Try this:

• Post when you actually have something to say.
• Mix your formats. Add an infographic. Add a thought.
• Talk about your process, not just your success.
• Do not fake it. Please.

And when in doubt – build with depth, post with clarity, and ignore the noise.

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This Is a Long Game

Empty content wins the scroll.
But you are not here to go viral.
You are here to go the distance.

And the people who matter will remember.

If your NewSpace toolkit still looks like WordArt titles, Excel 2003 macros, and a paperclip telling you how to format a pitch deck… good luck.

Clippy was cute. Clippy was annoying. But most of all, Clippy was a symbol of an era where “assistance” meant interruptions, not real support. And yet, many of us in the space industry continue to operate with the same mindset: relying on outdated tools, habits, and shortcuts, while claiming to be at the forefront of innovation.

Assistants Have Evolved. Have We?

Voice technology today is not about cartoon stationery popping up on your screen. It is about conversations that actually help you brainstorm, plan, and act. I have been using ChatGPT voice mode, and it feels less like an interruption and more like a colleague who listens, challenges, and responds instantly.

But this is only one example. This year alone, I had to become fluent in new project management platforms, refine my design workflow, reevaluate productivity hacks, and even experiment with fresh methodologies just to keep pace. In this industry, constant learning is not optional; it is survival.

The Illusion of Progress

Here is the irony: the NewSpace industry loves to brand itself as cutting edge, but how many teams are still managing billion-euro ambitions with outdated spreadsheets, endless email threads, and clunky processes that belong in 1997? You would never power a satellite with obsolete hardware, but somehow, powering a business with obsolete tools is considered normal.

That gap, between the innovation we promise and the way we actually work, is where credibility quietly dies.

Why It Matters

In NewSpace, speed and innovation make the difference. Funding cycles are tight, missions are complex, and collaboration is global. Falling back on outdated ways of working is not just inefficient; it is dangerous. The tools we choose define how far we get, not only in orbit but in business.

The Question

So tell me: are you still waiting for Clippy to run your satellite project, or are you trying out the new stuff?

We all know the story. A company grows, gets noticed, maybe even lands a few contracts. And suddenly, customer service goes out the window, collaboration turns into gatekeeping, and arrogance becomes the default setting.

It is not new. In other industries we see glossy campaigns and polished promises hiding deeper issues. The profits keep rolling in even if workers are underpaid, customers ignored, and ethics conveniently left aside. People still buy the product, so the cycle continues.

The NewSpace Twist

In NewSpace, the story has a twist. Some companies actually deliver working tech while treating partners and customers poorly. Others deliver nothing at all but still manage to act like they are above everyone else. Success or no success, the attitude problem is the same.

The result? We normalize bad manners and pretend it does not matter as long as the hardware makes it to orbit or the investors keep signing checks.

Reputation Is Not Enough

We like to say reputation is everything in this industry. Word of mouth spreads fast, and everyone knows everyone. But reputation alone is not stopping companies with toxic behavior from winning contracts. Just like fast fashion, people know the harm, but they keep buying anyway.

What If We Had a Pledge?

The United States has pledges for everything from flags to fraternities. Maybe NewSpace needs one too. Something that makes the basics explicit.

“I solemnly swear that my satellite is not only flight proven, but also backed by basic decency, respect for customers, and a functioning support email.”

Would everyone sign it? Of course not. Some would laugh it off. But it would at least show which companies understand that good technology without good attitude is not leadership, it is just arrogance with a budget.

The Real Question

So here is the question for the industry: do we keep rewarding companies that confuse ego for excellence, or do we start holding each other to a higher standard?

Because rockets without respect are just fast fashion with a launchpad.

Why freelancers deserve to be paid for the work you never see

Pizza vs People

Hiring a freelancer or consultant is not buying a pizza. You are not paying for thirty minutes in the oven. You are paying for years of skill-building, mistakes already made on someone else’s dime, and the invisible work that keeps us sharp enough to deliver for you.

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The Fifty-Fifty Split

Here is the math most clients never notice:
Half my day is paid work. Deliverables. Calls. Decks. Reports. That is the side you get an invoice for.
The other half is invisible. Reading papers. Following industry shifts. Testing tools. Creating content. Building visibility so that when you search for an expert, I am already in your feed, trusted and credible. That is not downtime. That is why I can give you the shortcut, the reference, the idea that saves you months.

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The Skin in the Game

When I show up to deliver, I am not just giving you hours. I am giving you my face, my reputation, my brand. When your campaign, strategy, or mission has my fingerprints on it, my name is also on the line. If it flops, I take a hit in credibility. If it shines, you put it on your pitch deck. That is the unspoken deal.

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The Nickel and Dime Disease

When clients push for discounts, delay payments, or ask for “just a quick brainstorm off the clock” they are not only undervaluing the task, they are devaluing the entire ecosystem of effort that makes the task possible. Consultants who are forced to cut corners on their own development, visibility, and reputation will not magically overdeliver for you.

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The Half Ass Rule

If you half ass your side of the deal with weak contracts, late payments, or lack of respect, do not be surprised when your consultant half asses the job. The best consultants are expensive not because their work takes long, but because they have already spent years making sure it does not.

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Pay the Invisible Work

Pay for the visible work, respect the invisible work, and you will get results worth bragging about. Anything else is just buying pizza and expecting it to taste like fine dining.

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One last thing: If you think paying fairly is expensive, wait until you see how much unpaid expertise really costs you.