Elon Musk, the billionaire visionary behind SpaceX, Tesla, and The Boring Company, has taken his ambitions to new heights—or rather, new depths on Earth—with the official unveiling of Starbase, Texas, as a radical tech city. Incorporated on May 3, 2025, following a near-unanimous vote by its 283 eligible residents—most of whom are SpaceX employees—Starbase is more than just a company town. It’s a bold experiment in urban innovation, defying traditional regulations and pushing the boundaries of what a city can be. But as Musk’s plans for this 1.5-square-mile metropolis near the Gulf of Mexico come into sharper focus, local officials, environmentalists, and residents are sounding the alarm, warning that this “rule-breaking” vision could come at a steep cost to the region’s environment, public access, and democratic principles.

A Visionary City Takes Shape

Starbase, located in Boca Chica, Texas, about 20 miles east of Brownsville, has been under development since SpaceX began buying land in the area in 2012. Initially conceived as a launch site for the Falcon 9 and Falcon Heavy rockets, the site shifted focus in 2018 to exclusively support the Starship program—a reusable spacecraft designed to carry humans to the Moon, Mars, and beyond. Over the past decade, SpaceX has transformed this remote stretch of coastal land into an industrial hub, complete with a spaceport, production facilities, and testing sites along Texas State Highway 4. The incorporation of Starbase as a city marks a significant milestone in Musk’s long-standing vision, first floated in 2021, to create a self-sustaining community centered around space exploration.

The vote on May 3 was a landslide: 212 residents voted in favor of incorporation, with only six opposed. The new city’s government is led by Mayor Bobby Peden, a 36-year-old SpaceX vice president, and two commissioners, Jordan Buss and Jenna Petrzelka, both with ties to the company. All three ran unopposed, reflecting the dominance of SpaceX in the area—most of the 500 residents are either employees or their family members. Starbase’s boundaries encompass SpaceX’s headquarters, launch facilities, and residential areas, including prefabricated homes and Airstream trailers lining streets like “Memes Street,” where Musk himself owns a residence. A 9-foot golden bust of Musk, dubbed “ELON AKA Memelord,” stands as a symbol of the city’s identity, though it was recently vandalized, signaling underlying tensions.

Musk celebrated the incorporation on X, declaring, “Starbase, Texas, is now a real city!” But the unveiling this week of his broader plans for Starbase has revealed an ambition far beyond a mere company town. SpaceX has outlined plans to expand housing, build a commercial center with a grocery store, cafe, and sushi restaurant, and establish a school called Ad Astra within the city limits. There’s even talk of connecting Starbase to a local water system, as residents currently rely on water trucked in from Brownsville. These developments aim to make Starbase a “world-class place to live” for SpaceX workers and a hub for innovation, with the potential to support up to 25 rocket launches per year—up from the current five.

Defying Regulations, Raising Concerns

Starbase’s incorporation grants SpaceX unprecedented autonomy, allowing the city to manage its own building permits, land use laws, utilities, and local taxes. This newfound control eliminates many of the regulatory hurdles SpaceX faced at the county level, streamlining operations for the Starship program, which has contracts with NASA and the Department of Defense to send astronauts to the Moon and eventually Mars. However, this autonomy has alarmed local officials and activists, who see Starbase as a “rule-breaking” metropolis prioritizing corporate interests over public good.

One of the most contentious issues is the potential for Starbase to control access to Boca Chica Beach, a public strip popular with locals for fishing, camping, and recreation. SpaceX already closes the beach and nearby Texas State Highway 4 during launches, a process currently managed by Cameron County. A bill proposed in the Texas Legislature, backed by SpaceX, would have allowed Starbase’s officials to approve beach closures on weekdays, but it failed last month amid opposition from county leaders. Cameron County Judge Eddie Treviño Jr., who has generally supported SpaceX’s presence for its economic benefits, opposed the bill, arguing that beach access is a public right enshrined in the Texas Constitution. “We’ve worked well with SpaceX to balance their needs with public access,” Treviño said. “There’s no need for this change.”

Environmentalists are equally concerned. The South Texas Environmental Justice Network has protested the incorporation, arguing that Starbase’s autonomy could exacerbate SpaceX’s impact on the region’s delicate ecosystem. The area around Boca Chica Beach includes wetlands and tidal flats critical to local wildlife, and SpaceX has already faced fines—$150,000 in 2024 from the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency and the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality—for dumping wastewater. Activists like Christopher Basaldú, co-founder of the network, warn that unchecked expansion could further harm the environment. “This was a pristine, beautiful beach, a sacred space for Indigenous communities like the Carrizo/Comecrudo Tribe,” Basaldú said. “I have no confidence that SpaceX will be a responsible neighbor as a city.”

A Modern Company Town—or Corporate Overreach?

Starbase’s structure has drawn comparisons to company towns of the Gilded Age, where industrialists like George Pullman controlled every aspect of workers’ lives. With SpaceX owning most of the land and employing the majority of residents, critics fear that Starbase’s governance will prioritize the company’s interests over those of its citizens. Brian Highsmith, an incoming professor at UCLA who studies company towns, noted the potential for employees to feel silenced. “If they defy the interests of SpaceX or Elon Musk, they might reasonably fear being fired,” Highsmith said. “Those are not unreasonable fears.”

This concentration of power has led some to describe Starbase as a “rule-breaking” metropolis, where traditional democratic checks and balances are undermined by corporate influence. The election of SpaceX-affiliated officials, without opposition or traditional campaigning, reinforces this perception. Kathryn Lueders, Starbase’s general manager, defended the incorporation in a letter to county officials, stating that it would “streamline the processes required to build the amenities necessary to make the area a world-class place to live.” But for activists like Juanita Hinojosa of the South Texas Environmental Justice Network, Starbase represents a “slow colonization” of the region by a tech oligarchy, prioritizing Musk’s Martian dreams over local communities.

Musk’s broader influence in Texas adds fuel to these concerns. In 2024, he moved SpaceX’s headquarters from California to Starbase, citing more favorable regulations, and has expanded his footprint across the state, with Tesla’s Gigafactory in Austin and The Boring Company’s projects in Bastrop. His recent role in President Donald Trump’s administration, leading the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), has drawn nationwide protests for overseeing federal cuts, further tarnishing his public image. Starbase, in this context, is seen by some as an extension of Musk’s disregard for regulations that don’t serve his vision—a pattern critics argue is evident in his push to increase launches and expand into ecologically sensitive areas.

Pushing Urban Boundaries—or Repeating History?

Musk’s vision for Starbase is undeniably ambitious. The city aims to be a launchpad for humanity’s future in space, supporting SpaceX’s goal of colonizing Mars. The Starship program, developed and tested at Starbase, is central to this mission, with Musk envisioning a future where the city serves as a departure point for interplanetary travel. Plans for a commercial center, expanded housing, and amenities like a sushi restaurant suggest an attempt to create a self-sustaining community that can attract top talent and foster innovation. Murals of Musk and the “Doge” meme, along with street names like “Mars-a-Lago,” reflect the eccentric, futuristic vibe Musk hopes to cultivate.

Yet this vision of a “techno-utopia” is not without precedent—and not without pitfalls. Starbase echoes historical experiments like the Reedy Creek Improvement District, which granted Disney World significant autonomy in Florida, and Special Economic Zones like Shenzhen, China, which grew rapidly but often at the expense of labor and environmental standards. Starbase’s critics argue that Musk’s experiment risks repeating the mistakes of these models, prioritizing corporate efficiency over public welfare. Environmentalists point to SpaceX’s history of debris from launches and damage to tidal flats as evidence of the company’s disregard for the ecosystem, while civil rights advocates question whether residents can truly dissent in a city so dominated by their employer.

A Polarized Reaction

The unveiling of Starbase has elicited a polarized response. Supporters see it as a bold step toward the future, with SpaceX’s innovation driving economic growth in a region where nearly a third of residents once lived below the poverty line. The company’s presence has already brought high-paying jobs and infrastructure improvements to South Texas, and some locals welcome the prospect of a thriving tech hub. “It’s a net benefit for everyone,” one voter told KUT Radio on Election Day, though he declined to elaborate further.

Opponents, however, view Starbase as a dangerous precedent. Protests at Boca Chica Beach on May 3, featuring a piñata of Musk, underscored the frustration of longtime residents who fear losing access to a cherished public space. The Carrizo/Comecrudo Tribe, which holds spiritual ties to the beach, has joined environmental groups in opposing the incorporation, arguing that it prioritizes Musk’s ambitions over the rights of the broader community. “Boca Chica Beach is meant for the people, not Elon Musk to control,” the South Texas Environmental Justice Network stated.

What Lies Ahead for Starbase?

As Starbase takes its first steps as a city, the road ahead is fraught with challenges. Musk’s plans to increase launches to 25 per year will require navigating federal and state approvals, particularly given the environmental concerns. The failure of the beach closure bill suggests that local officials are prepared to push back against SpaceX’s overreach, but the company’s influence—bolstered by its control over Starbase’s governance—may give it the upper hand in future disputes. Meanwhile, Musk’s broader political and business challenges, including declining profits at Tesla and backlash over his role in the Trump administration, could complicate his ability to sustain public and governmental support for Starbase.

For now, Starbase stands as a testament to Musk’s unrelenting ambition—a city built on rockets and dreams of Mars, but grounded in the very real tensions of corporate power, environmental impact, and public rights. Whether it becomes a launchpad for the future or a cautionary tale of overreach remains to be seen. As one local resident, Rene Medrano, told The Telegraph, “It’s just such a disgrace what’s happening out here.” For Musk, Starbase is a step toward the stars; for others, it’s a step too far.