Starlink is the satellite constellation that turned “LEO broadband” from a punchline into an existential crisis for every GEO operator still clinging to Ku-band. SpaceX has already launched more than 6,000 satellites, with thousands more waiting in warehouses, making Earth orbit look like a Costco parking lot. What was once a side project to fund Mars fantasies is now a global ISP with real customers, real revenue, and regulators scrambling to keep up.

The service works. That alone makes it disruptive. Latency feels like terrestrial broadband, throughput is good enough for Netflix, and terminals are cheap enough to throw on RVs, ships, or tanks. For rural users it’s a miracle, for militaries it’s a lifeline, and for governments it’s a nightmare because suddenly connectivity is controlled by a private company with a CEO who tweets policy decisions at 3 a.m.

Ukraine learned that the hard way when Starlink terminals kept their battlefield networks alive until Musk decided he didn’t like being that involved in a war. That tension, critical infrastructure run at the whim of one eccentric billionaire, hangs over the whole project.

The economics are fuzzy but momentum is undeniable. The terminals are subsidized, the constellation needs constant replenishment, and spectrum fights loom everywhere. Yet Starlink is scaling like no one else. The customer base passed two and a half million, with more coming from maritime, aviation, and government contracts. That puts it in a different league than Inmarsat, Viasat, or even SES, who now spend investor calls explaining why “hybrid GEO-LEO” is somehow better than the thing everyone actually wants.

Competitors can’t catch up. OneWeb limped into service after bankruptcy and still needs handouts. Telesat’s Lightspeed is perpetually delayed by financing. Amazon’s Kuiper is still drawing slides. Starlink is already launching its second-generation satellites, experimenting with direct-to-cell service, and upgrading ground equipment at consumer-electronics speed. The result is a monopoly in everything but name, created not by regulators but by sheer cadence.

Starlink is both indispensable and terrifying. It has given rural schools, merchant ships, and defense ministries bandwidth they never dreamed of, but it has also privatized a chunk of global infrastructure with zero oversight. If Musk stays focused, it becomes the backbone of global connectivity. If he loses interest or melts down, half the world finds out their internet depends on a man who thinks moderation is for cowards. Either way, the GEO crowd is finished.