Leave it to a tech billionaire to once again raise the bar on space exploration. With news that Paul Allen plans to build the largest plane ever—the wings will be 385 feet long—geeks all over the world are surely rejoicing. The plane, which will be made by Allen's new company, Stratolaunch Systems, isn't for passenger travel, at least initially. It's meant to launch rockets into space from 30,000 feet, thereby eliminating costly launching pads.
With the announcement, Allen rejoins the "geeks-in-space" fraternity that he walked away from a decade ago after he and Burt Rutan developed SpaceShipOne, the first privately manned rocket to reach space. There are three other prominent members of the frat. Richard Branson (estimated net worth: $4.2 billion) has Virgin Galactic, which is aiming for suborbital space travel. Elon Musk ($680 million), whose SpaceX makes rockets and will make the rockets that hitch a ride on Allen's plane. (Burt Rutan's company will make the actual plane.) And Amazon's (AMZN) Jeff Bezos ($19.1 billion) with Blue Origin, also focused on human space flight.
When asked how much he planned to invest in Stratolaunch—Allen is the sole investor—he demurred. "Obviously, this is not inexpensive," he told The New York Times. Allen tried to claim there was a profit motive at play: "This is obviously a big initial investment that we wouldn't be making if we didn't think there were going to be a lot of customers out there, both for cargo and manned missions in the future."
Cargo? Come on, Paul. You can admit it—this is not about making money. It's about doing something cool with those big bushels of cash you have sitting around your house. And for that, we salute you.
As far as the rich go, Allen doesn't get much respect. Almost ten years ago, Laura Rich, a former colleague of mine, wrote The Accidental Zillionaire: Demystifying Paul Allen. The title said it all: the received wisdom was that Bill Gates and Steve Ballmer were the real brains behind Microsoft (MSFT), and Allen, whose fortune peaked at $40 billion in 1999, was, well, accidentally rich. He's been ridiculed for a number of ill-conceived investments since then, as well as for turning into a scourge of the figurative town that made him—Silicon Valley—in the guise of a patent troll.
In the twelve years since it peaked, Allen's cash pile has dwindled steadily downward, to a recently estimated $13.2 billion. That said, Bill Gates, who peaked at $85 billion, is down substantially as well. But not by nearly as much: whereas Allen's fortune is today worth just 33% of its high, Gates has managed to hold onto 69% of his, or $59 billion. Allen, who didn't respond to a request for comment, was richer than Warren Buffett in 1999—the Oracle of Omaha was just worth $31 billion—but today Buffett is worth three times as much.
But I come here not to criticize Allen, but to praise him. After all, how much money does a billionaire really need?
