I looked up at the stars in the early morning, bracing against the cool autumn air that is coldest before dawn. I glanced up at the sparkling sky and looked for familiar constellations, and noticed Orion by his three-star belt. My mind wandered to past times when I stopped beneath the stars and gazed at Orion. The heavens were a constant in my ever-changing world. I can see why sailors felt confident being guided by the stars.

But that sky is gone. New stars have been added by companies like Starlink, the satellite branch of Elon Musk’s Space X. There are many companies sending networks of satellites into space, and these are crowding out and dimming the real stars.

Usually, when some technology is unleashed on the world, there are environmental reviews and a chance for public comment. While satellite companies need to prepare an environmental impact statement for launching from Earth, the laws have not envisioned how to deal with objects in space. So there is no government body that oversees the light pollution from satellites. It’s just something imposed on us as a side effect of this new space-age technology. We had no say in what happened to the stars.

There have been complaints from astronomers and scientists about the impact these shining satellites have on studying the stars. They are mostly concerned about increased background light, which can further diminish the dimmest stars to oblivion. Light pollution from cities, and from other sources of night light from night life, have long been a bane to observation of the skies. But with the satellites, the light pollution is facing you head-on and hits you right in the eye.

Hawaii is world-renowned for its bright stars and minimal light pollution, making our islands astronomy havens for studying the heavens. And while there are disputes over the location of telescopes, there is no dispute that our nighttime skies are a wonder and beauty to behold. Modern astronomy and native Hawaiian culture share a common respect for the stars. Polynesians navigated with the stars as their guiding light, and astronomers analyze the stars to try understanding the origins of the universe. But culture and science suffer from this invasion of satellites into our skies.

For me, the issue is not about light interference with scientific observation. The loss I grieve is of the sky I have known all my life. The one thing that never changes has changed. Constellations are not the same with bright, new stars. And these satellites often outshine the real stars.

I also resent not having a chance to express my opinion about this change to the nighttime sky. Environmental review of space technology must begin to address the visual impacts of this tech on our view of the heavens, and give people a chance to object to this takeover of the skies.

There are times in history when technology changes the natural world. This is one of them. People born today will grow up in a world where the nighttime sky is constantly changing, where there are real stars and artificial stars. The Milky Way will be dimmer than ever from the light pollution.

People born before the time of satellites used to look up at the stars and make a wish. The first star visible at dusk was the magical one. But now, you can’t be sure that you are wishing on a star, or wishing on a satellite.

I suspect that for the rest of my life, satellites will continue to outshine the stars, and darken the beauty of the night sky. The nighttime sky has lost its virginity, and there’s no going back. At least the moon still looks like it always has — well, at least for now.

Sydney Ross Singer is an environmental anthropologist and director of the Good Shepherd Foundation in Pahoa, Hawaii.