Sunday, August 31, 2025
Saturday, August 30, 2025
Friday, August 29, 2025
Thursday, August 28, 2025
Wednesday, August 27, 2025
Tuesday, August 26, 2025
Monday, August 25, 2025
Sunday, August 24, 2025
Saturday, August 23, 2025
Friday, August 22, 2025
Thursday, August 21, 2025
Wednesday, August 20, 2025
Tuesday, August 19, 2025
The Commercial Case For Mars
NASM
Blue Origin has proposed a Mars telecommunications orbiter based on its Blue Ring spacecraft, versions of which could also be used to transport payloads to Mars under commercial service agreements. (credit: Blue Origin)
The commercial case for Mars
by Jeff Foust
Monday, August 18, 2025
On August 7, the Italian space agency ASI announced it had signed an agreement with SpaceX to send payloads to Mars on what it said would be the first Starship missions designed to transport commercial payloads to the planet. Those payloads would include a radiation sensor, plant growth experiment, and weather monitoring station.
“The payloads will gather scientific data during the missions. Italy continues to lead in space exploration!” declared Teodoro Valente, president of ASI, on social media.
“Get on board! We are going to Mars! SpaceX is now offering Starship services to the red planet,” responded SpaceX president Gwynne Shotwell. “More to come.”
Companies made clear they were very interested in pursuing whatever opportunities CMPS offered for Mars missions, in many cases leveraging what they have done elsewhere.
Notably absent from the announcement were any details on the cost of the mission or the schedule. While SpaceX had talked as recently as May about sending Starships to Mars in the next launch window in late 2026 (see “Starship setbacks and strategies”, The Space Review, June 9, 2025), SpaceX CEO Elon Musk said the day before the ASI announcement there was now only a “slight chance” of sending Starships to Mars then. He said the first uncrewed launches were more likely at the following window at the end of 2028.
While Starship Mars missions might be slipping, what hasn’t been is interest in Mars missions that are commercial in some way. Instead of being developed and run by space agencies, these missions would be commercially operated with customers—like space agencies—buying services. It’s an approach that has worked for crew and cargo transportation to the International Space Station and, more recently, lunar lander missions. Will it work for Mars?
NASA is betting it can. Last year the agency commissioned a dozen studies from industry on how they could provide services such as payload delivery, communications, and imaging. Agency officials said late last year that the concepts studied by the companies looked promising and merited further study (see “The future of robotic Mars exploration”, The Space Review, December 16, 2024).
When NASA released its detailed fiscal year 2026 budget proposal in late May, it included $200 million for a new effort called Commercial Mars Payload Services (CMPS). That would be modeled on the Commercial Lunar Payload Services (CLPS) program for lunar lander missions, but the budget provided few other details about how CMPS would work other than to say that “near-term efforts will focus funding on supporting the maturation of commercial robotic Mars lander concepts.”
The initiative is so new that NASA hasn’t even figured out how to pronounce CMPS, unlike CLPS, which soon after its introduction was universally pronounced “clips.” “Somebody called it ‘compass’ the other day and I was like, ‘that’s a stretch,’” said Nicky Fox, NASA associate administrator for science, during a panel discussion at the AIAA ASCEND conference last month. She, and others, have settled on “sea-mips” for now.
The initial planning for CMPS, she said, involves what the cadence of missions will be and the types of missions, such as orbiters or landers, “so that we can start putting together the science program behind it.”
At both the ASCEND panel and another at last week’s Small Satellite Conference, companies made clear they were very interested in pursuing whatever opportunities CMPS offered for Mars missions, in many cases leveraging what they have done elsewhere.
An example is Albedo, a startup developing a constellation of very low Earth orbit satellites that can provide very high resolution imagery. The company’s first satellite, Clarity-1, launched earlier this year and is nearing the end of its commissioning process, said company CTO AyJay Lasater at Smallsat.
The company received one of the NASA studies last year to show how such satellites could work at Mars. In some respects, it would be easier to operate the satellites at Mars, with less atmospheric drag at low altitudes that satellites will need to compensate for.
He said the business models for the satellites would be similar. “We would look to follow a very similar level of pricing for a Mars commercial variant, where you follow a dollar-per-square-kilometer method,” he said.
“Somewhere between 70 and 80% of what we’ve proven and learned to get to the Moon is directly applicable to Mars,” Firefly’s Ferring said, “and to go solve that extra 20 to 30% is a thing to do, but it’s not impossible.”
The price would depend on the resolution requested: a chart he displayed included a table of prices that ranged from $120 per square kilometer for imagery at resolutions of more than 50 centimeters, increasing to $3,000 per square kilometer for imagery at resolutions sharper than 20 centimeters. The satellites, he said, could take images as sharp as 11 centimeters per pixel.
Firefly Aerospace, whose Blue Ghost spacecraft successfully landed on the Moon in March, has explored how it could be adapted for Mars missions. “If you look at Blue Ghost, it’s really well sized to be a converted to a Mars mission,” Shea Ferring, CTO of Firefly, at the Smallsat panel. The lander could fit into the same sized aeroshell as used on the Perseverance rover, he noted, simplifying landing.
“Somewhere between 70 and 80% of what we’ve proven and learned to get to the Moon is directly applicable to Mars,” he said, “and to go solve that extra 20 to 30% is a thing to do, but it’s not impossible, and I think you can do it with the same mindset and same model that the CLPS program has operated to, maybe with some tweaks.”
One of those tweaks may be dealing with the differences between going to the Moon versus Mars. “In CLPS, there are some landing windows so there are some constraints, but it’s not 26 months,” or the gap between Mars launch windows, Fox noted. “So by that token, CMPS will be a little different.”
CLPS current awards two task orders a year with the same cadence of missions. That means there are a regular series of opportunities for companies to win missions. Providing a similar stream of opportunities will be more difficult for Mars with the longer gap between launch windows.
“How do you take advantage of every single Mars window to accumulate capability but also make sure that you have the industrial capabilities that can survive from window to window because they’re doing other things?” said Nick Cummings, senior director of civil and national security space at SpaceX, at the ASCEND panel.
One solution is to do long-term procurements or block buys, said Tommy Sanford, director of civil sales at Blue Origin, said at the Smallsat panel. “CLPS did it as one-offs,” or competing missions one at a time, he said. Block buys are something companies have recommended NASA pursue for CLPS in the next round of contracts. “That way you can balance your risk portfolio better.”
A more central challenge, though, is the C in CMPS: commercial. Who else beyond NASA would be a customer for what ostensibly is supposed to be a commercial service?
Both NASA and industry acknowledge that there are few such customers, at least for the foreseeable future. “I don’t see, personally, a huge commercial interest, at least in the near future, of going to Mars unless you’re supporting NASA or ESA” or other national space agencies, Fox said.
“I’ve been pretty skeptical of non-government customers in those domains,” said Richard French, vice president of business development and strategy in Rocket Lab’s space systems division, referring to both lunar and Martian missions, at Smallsat.
He and others, though, said there is value in the commercial model for Mars missions. “The commercial piece is less important to focus on than the management strategies and all the great lessons learned that CLPS has generated,” he said.
An example he offered is that, in CLPS, companies buy their own launches, rather than have NASA procure them separately. “The government is not in the middle of the launch procurement on CLPS. And how many of the CLPS missions have had launch issues? I don’t think any.”
“When we think about these commercial partnerships at Mars, what we want to do is make sure that there are commercial applications,” Cummings said. “If NASA is the only customer for a system, you can still do fixed firm-price development, which you should do. You can still have competition.”
Sanford said that other commercial service programs also initially had few, if any, non-NASA customers, like commercial crew and cargo.
“I don’t see, personally, a huge commercial interest, at least in the near future, of going to Mars unless you’re supporting NASA or ESA” or other national space agencies, Fox said.
“But you could sell the infrastructure and the underlying capability across multiple providers,” like the launch vehicles used to provide the services, he said. “As you lower the cost of that capability, you have more and more customers that come and start to take advantage of that.”
Ferring said there’s been a slow increase in non-NASA business for commercial lunar landers. “It’s taken about five years on CLPS to see enough commercial activity to fund a full mission,” he said. “In the first three years, there was none. There was zero commercial interest.”
One of the initial markets considered for CMPS, communications services, may have been overtaken by events. The budget reconciliation bill enacted last month included $700 million for NASA to procure a Mars Telecommunications Orbiter that would support future NASA Mars missions, including human exploration. The bill directs NASA to procure the orbiter using a competition and a fixed-price contract, but says nothing about buying services.
Both Blue Origin and Rocket Lab have expressed interest in bidding on that orbiter. Rocket Lab discussed its plans for the last couple months for a Mars relay orbiter. “The path to Mars for human spaceflight must begin with the ability to communicate there, and this is something that we have always strongly pushed for,” Peter Beck, chief executive of Rocket Lab, said in an earnings call earlier this month.
Blue Origin said last week it had created a concept for a Mars communications satellite using the Blue Ring spacecraft the company is developing. As part of the commercial Mars studies, the company showed how Blue Ring could deliver up to 1,250 kilograms of payloads to low Martian orbit, then maneuver to a higher orbit to serve as a communications relay.
Even if communications isn’t procured as a service, it could be enabling for other services. Lasater said that having a communications network at Mars could support its imagery plans there. “Pricing changes quite a bit if we have the high-data-rate backhaul. It allows us to drop that pricing significantly.”
He suggested that could enable more customers for that Mars imagery. “Can you imagine being able to go and get a picture of Mars for a couple of hundred bucks or even less, whenever you want?”
Meanwhile, SpaceX is gearing up for its next Starship test flight, now scheduled for no earlier than Sunday. It comes after the previous three flights all suffered mission-ending malfunctions as well as the loss of a Starship upper stage during preparations for a static-fire test in June.
Any chances of sending Starships to Mars in 2026, perhaps with payloads from ASI and other customers, will depend on having a successful flight this time. “A lot needs to go right for that,” Musk said of a 2026 Mars mission for a program where things have not been going right of late.
Jeff Foust (jeff@thespacereview.com) is the editor and publisher of The Space Review, and a senior staff writer with SpaceNews. He also operates the Spacetoday.net web site. Views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author alone.
The LEO Toll Road
Falcon 9 launch
A Falcon 9 lifts off earlier this month carrying a set of Amazon Project Kuiper broadband satellites. (credit: SpaceX)
The LEO toll road: How the constellation gold rush is paving over the path to the planets
by Vaibhav Chhimpa
Monday, August 18, 2025
The dawn of the 21st-century space age is being widely celebrated as an era of unprecedented access and democratization. Driven by reusable rockets and the promise of global connectivity, a new generation of commercial titans is launching thousands of satellites into Low Earth Orbit (LEO), building vast megaconstellations that promise to reshape the global economy.[1] This LEO boom, championed by its architects as a venture to connect the unconnected and accelerate human progress, is presented as a net positive for all space endeavors.[3]
The dream of connecting the unconnected is noble. But not at the cost of blinding our telescopes, blocking our launch windows, or burning the roadmap to Mars.
However, a closer examination of the underlying resource dynamics reveals a more complex and troubling reality. The contemporary LEO boom, far from being a rising tide that lifts all boats, is paradoxically leading to the consolidation of control over the most fundamental resources of spaceflight.[4]
Make no mistake: I support global connectivity. The dream of connecting the unconnected is noble. But not at the cost of blinding our telescopes, blocking our launch windows, or burning the roadmap to Mars.
This consolidation of control arises from the significant scope and rapid pace of commercial activity in a domain with limited resources and emerging governance, rather than being a traditional monopoly requiring trust-busting.[6] The primary actors, most notably SpaceX with its Starlink constellation and followed by competitors like OneWeb and Amazon’s Project Kuiper, are not merely launching satellites; they are consuming the essential commons of spaceflight: launch availability, radio frequency spectrum, and physical orbital space, at a rate that structurally sidelines and starves other vital endeavors.[6] The very mechanisms that enable the LEO revolution are creating profound barriers for those who do not fit its commercial model.
This essay argues that the LEO megaconstellation buildout is covertly monopolizing the foundational pillars of space access, creating a systemic resource scarcity that disproportionately impacts the next generation of interplanetary science missions.[8] This resource drain, occurring across launch manifests, regulatory dockets, and the electromagnetic spectrum, threatens to curtail humanity’s long-term exploratory ambitions.[6] The gold rush to LEO is effectively paving a toll road into orbit, and the price of passage for scientific discovery—missions to the Moon, Mars, and beyond—is becoming prohibitively high.
The analysis will first deconstruct the three pillars of this covert monopoly: the launch capacity bottleneck, where a single company’s internal needs dictate global launch availability; the phenomenon of spectrum squatting and regulatory prioritization, where administrative frameworks are being reshaped to favor mass commercial deployment; and the tyranny of interference, where the physical and electronic environment of space is being degraded to a point that threatens the viability of sensitive scientific instruments. It will then connect this resource drain directly to the tangible threats facing planetary science, using official concerns documented by government agencies like NASA as primary evidence.[9] Finally, it will propose a necessary rebalancing of the space ecosystem, advocating for policy shifts to ensure that the path to the planets is not permanently paved over by the commercial imperatives of LEO.
Part 1: The three pillars of a covert monopoly
The emergent monopoly in space access is not the result of a single corporate strategy but the cumulative effect of dominance across three critical domains: launch services, regulatory frameworks, and the operational environment itself. Each pillar reinforces the others, creating a system that favors the high-cadence, mass-deployment model of LEO constellations while raising barriers for bespoke, one-off missions characteristic of scientific exploration.
Pillar 1: The launch capacity bottleneck
The most visible manifestation of this new paradigm is the overwhelming dominance of LEO constellation deployment on global launch manifests.[10] Access to space, the fundamental prerequisite for any mission, is increasingly dictated by the internal priorities of the world’s leading launch provider, which is also the world’s leading satellite operator.
The most visible manifestation of this new paradigm is the overwhelming dominance of LEO constellation deployment on global launch manifests.
An analysis of launch schedules for 2025 reveals a stark imbalance. The manifest for SpaceX, the provider responsible for the vast majority of US and global launch capacity, is overwhelmingly dedicated to its own Starlink constellation.[6] A typical month, such as July 2025, shows a relentless cadence of Starlink missions launching every few days from multiple pads.[6] Over the course of the year, dozens of Falcon 9 flights are scheduled to carry Starlink satellites, supplemented by launches for other LEO systems like the Space Development Agency’s military constellation and commercial customers such as Amazon’s Kuiper.[6]
In stark contrast, missions destined for beyond Earth orbit (BEO) are a rarity. The 2025 SpaceX manifest includes only a handful of such flights, including the Griffin Mission 1 to the Moon on a Falcon Heavy and the IMAP solar observatory on an escape trajectory.[6] While other providers like ULA and Arianespace have scientific missions on their books, their overall launch cadence is a small fraction of SpaceX’s, and they too are increasingly booking capacity for LEO constellations. The result is a global launch market where the supply of flights is consumed primarily by the deployment and replenishment of a few massive LEO networks. For a scientific mission, finding a launch slot is no longer just a matter of budget, but of competing against the relentless, high-priority schedule of a vertically integrated behemoth.
This manifest dominance is not accidental; it is the logical outcome of a powerful, closed economic loop. The business model of a vertically integrated company like SpaceX creates a self-reinforcing cycle where LEO constellation deployment is both the primary driver of revenue and the principal justification for future investment. According to financial analyses and company statements, the multi-billion-dollar revenue stream projected from Starlink is the primary engine funding the development of the next-generation Starship launch system.[14] This is not merely a matter of reinvesting profits; it is a strategic necessity. Elon Musk has explicitly stated that Starship must fly regularly to deploy the larger, second-generation Starlink V2 satellites, which are essential for the constellation’s future capacity and profitability and are too large to launch efficiently on the Falcon 9.[14]
This creates a system where the company’s primary launch customer is itself. External customers, particularly those with unique requirements like interplanetary science missions, become secondary priorities. Their missions must be slotted into a launch schedule that is fundamentally dictated by the operational and financial needs of the constellation. This dynamic inverts the traditional launch service model. Instead of a provider competing for diverse customer payloads, the provider’s own payload has become the anchor tenant of its manifest, with other missions fitting in where and when possible.
Even though no mission has been cancelled, that doesn’t mean everything’s fine. It means NASA is holding the line with duct tape and grit. While it is difficult to prove that a specific interplanetary mission has been outright cancelled due to launch availability, there is concrete evidence of systemic constraints creating significant opportunity costs and mission risks.
The most direct evidence comes from NASA itself. In an official filing to the FCC, the agency expressed explicit concern that the sheer density of SpaceX’s proposed Gen2 constellation could lead to the “loss of launch and reentry opportunities for NASA missions... as well as planned planetary missions such as Europa Clipper.”[9] This is not a hypothetical fear but a documented warning from the world’s leading space agency that a commercial internet service could physically and logistically obstruct its path to the outer solar system. For missions with narrow, unchangeable launch windows dictated by celestial mechanics, such a bottleneck introduces unacceptable risk and potential delays of years.
This structural problem is mirrored in Europe. The European Space Agency (ESA) has faced a severe “launcher crisis” due to delays with its new Ariane 6 rocket, the retirement of Ariane 5, and the loss of access to Russian Soyuz rockets. This has left Europe without independent access to space for a period, forcing it to turn to its primary competitor, SpaceX. In an unprecedented move, ESA booked Falcon 9 launches for its Euclid space telescope and the Hera planetary defense mission, missions that would have otherwise flown on European or Soyuz rockets.[1] While this demonstrates a pragmatic solution, it underscores a fundamental vulnerability: when domestic options fail, the scientific community must compete for slots on a manifest dominated by a commercial constellation’s deployment schedule.
Furthermore, the LEO boom has not, as is often claimed, made all of space cheaper and more accessible. It has created a stark bifurcation in space access. The cost to launch to LEO has been driven down dramatically by the economies of scale and high cadence demanded by constellation deployment. A dedicated Falcon 9 launch costs approximately $2,940 per kilogram to LEO.[18] However, this cost revolution does not extend uniformly to destinations beyond Earth’s orbit. The cost to send a payload to Mars on the same company’s Falcon Heavy rocket is estimated at around $5,800 per kilogram, nearly four times the per-kilogram cost to LEO on that same vehicle (about $1,500 per kilogram,).[7]
This price differential is a direct consequence of a business model optimized for a different purpose. The LEO market is a high-volume, mass-production logistics operation. Interplanetary science missions are bespoke, low-volume, and highly specialized. They do not benefit from the same economies of scale and are therefore priced and prioritized as a niche market that must find its place within a system built to serve other needs. The “hidden cost” is the uncertainty and risk injected into the mission design phase, where planners must account for a volatile launch market in which they are not the priority customer.
Pillar 2: Spectrum squatting and regulatory prioritization
The second pillar of this covert monopoly is the domination of the administrative and regulatory frameworks that govern space activities. Access to space is not just about rockets; it is about licenses and the right to use the radio frequency spectrum. Here too, the scale and influence of LEO megaconstellations are reshaping the landscape to their benefit, creating new barriers for other users.
This practice has led to absurd outcomes, such as the government of Rwanda filing with the ITU on behalf of a startup for a constellation of 337,320 satellites.
At the international level, the International Telecommunication Union (ITU) is responsible for coordinating the use of the radio spectrum to prevent interference. For nongeostationary orbit (NGSO) systems, which include all LEO constellations, the ITU has historically operated on a “first-come, first-served” basis.[5] This principle, while simple, has inadvertently incentivized a speculative land grab for orbital and spectrum resources. Well-resourced companies and the nations that sponsor them have rushed to submit filings for immense “paper constellations,” reserving rights to orbital slots and frequencies far in excess of their actual ability to deploy satellites.[2]
This practice has led to absurd outcomes, such as the government of Rwanda filing with the ITU on behalf of a startup for a constellation of 337,320 satellites, dubbed “Cinnamon-937”.[2] SpaceX itself has filed for tens of thousands of satellites beyond its initial licensed constellation, a move critics argue was designed to “flood” the ITU and preemptively block out competitors.[20] When the ITU introduced deployment milestones in 2019, it was meant to stop these paper constellations. But it created a perverse incentive: launch fast, even if the satellites are non-operational, just to keep the license.[5] This system of speculative filing creates a dense fog of uncertainty and complexity, making it exceedingly difficult for later entrants, such as scientific missions with well-defined but non-commercial needs, to navigate the process and secure the resources they require.
Domestically in the United States, the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) is actively reengineering its regulatory processes to favor the rapid deployment of large LEO constellations.[22] This is not just a matter of reducing red tape; it is an explicit geostrategic policy. Policymakers in Washington view the LEO broadband competition as a critical race against China and are therefore tailoring regulations to help US companies like SpaceX and Amazon scale faster and win that race.[22]
Proposed policies include the implementation of “shot clocks” that would force the FCC to make faster decisions on satellite applications, and a simplification of spectrum-sharing rules that benefits new entrants.[22] While intended to boost American competitiveness, this approach creates a two-tiered system. Large, standardized commercial constellations are put on a regulatory fast track. Scientific missions, which often have unique, complex, and non-standard operational requirements, are ill-suited to this high-speed, one-size-fits-all approval process. They risk being sidelined or facing significant delays as the regulator’s attention and resources are consumed by the massive, high-priority commercial applications.
Once spectrum is allocated, the commercial stakes are so high that constellation operators defend it with immense political and legal force. The conflict over the 12-gigahertz band provides a stark example. When terrestrial 5G providers proposed sharing the band, SpaceX launched a major lobbying campaign, arguing that such a move would cause “harmful interference 77% of the time’ and render the Starlink service “unusable” for most Americans.[25] It accused its competitors of submitting “faulty” and “intentionally misleading” analyses to the FCC.[25] This aggressive defense demonstrates the zero-sum mentality that now governs spectrum allocation. Any other service, including a scientific one, that might be perceived as a potential source of interference to a multi-billion-dollar commercial network will face a formidable wall of opposition, backed by vast financial and political resources.
The cumulative effect of these regulatory trends is the creation of “path dependency”: a state where decisions made today lock in a specific trajectory for the future that becomes extraordinarily difficult to change. By prioritizing the rapid buildout of a few massive LEO constellations for economic and geopolitical reasons, regulators at the ITU and FCC are not just allocating resources; they are fundamentally re-engineering the structure of space access.[22] For instance, a recent FCC rule change represents a paradigm shift: it allows new satellite constellations to cause a specified, measurable level of service degradation (up to 3%) to incumbent operators in shared bands.[22] This explicitly favors large, new entrants over established players and codifies interference as an acceptable, manageable part of the orbital environment.
Once tens of thousands of satellites are operating under this new framework, and a global customer base relies on them, reversing course becomes a practical and political impossibility. Future scientific missions that require pristine, interference-free spectrum or specific, uncongested orbital access will find themselves in an untenable position. They will not be arguing against a single competing application, but against an entrenched, operational, multi-trillion-dollar global infrastructure that has been sanctioned and protected by the world’s most powerful regulators. The “regulatory bandwidth” is not just being consumed; it is being permanently reconfigured. A multilane superhighway is being paved for LEO commercial traffic with few, if any, off-ramps being built for scientific exploration.
The pressure on orbital and spectrum resources is not solely a Western phenomenon. China is aggressively pursuing its own mega-constellation ambitions, creating a parallel system that operates largely outside of Western regulatory frameworks and adds a new dimension to the global tragedy of the commons.[27] This is not about singling out one nation, but about recognizing that the current system of governance is failing on a global scale.
China’s primary state-backed effort is the Guowang, or “National Network,” constellation, a plan to deploy nearly 13,000 satellites into LEO.[30] This is supplemented by other ambitious projects like the G60 Starlink (now known as Qianfan or “Thousand Sails”), which aims for over 15,000 satellites.[32]32 These programs are driven by the same goals of economic development and strategic advantage that motivate their Western counterparts, but they operate under a different set of rules.[10]
The LEO boom is not just consuming abstract resources like launch slots and spectrum licenses; it is fundamentally altering the physical and electromagnetic character of near-Earth space, creating a noisy, cluttered, and hazardous environment.
While Western companies must navigate the complex and often public processes of the FCC and ITU, China’s state-owned and state-backed enterprises are directed by national industrial policy, with regulatory bodies like the Ministry of Industry and Information Technology (MIIT) facilitating their path to orbit.[35] This creates a dual challenge. First, there is the direct physical impact of tens of thousands of additional satellites congesting the same orbital shells and using similar frequency bands, dramatically increasing the global risk of collision and interference. Second, there is a regulatory asymmetry. Without a binding international framework for space traffic management and spectrum use that applies equally to all major actors, we are left with regional blocs operating under different assumptions and with no effective mechanism for deconfliction.[28]
This global competition actually strengthens the core argument of this paper. The problem is not one company or one country, but a systemic failure of governance. The “first-come, first-served” approach to orbital resources has triggered a global land rush. Without robust, multilateral rules that are binding on all nations, we risk a future where LEO is rendered unusable by a combination of Western commercial deployments and Chinese state-backed projects, with scientific missions caught in the crossfire.
Pillar 3: The tyranny of physical and electronic interference
The final pillar of this covert monopoly is the degradation of the space environment itself. The LEO boom is not just consuming abstract resources like launch slots and spectrum licenses; it is fundamentally altering the physical and electromagnetic character of near-Earth space, creating a noisy, cluttered, and hazardous environment that poses an existential threat to certain types of scientific activity.
The business model of LEO megaconstellations relies on thousands of satellites with remarkably short operational lifespans, typically around five years.[38] This necessitates a constant cycle of replacement, meaning a continuous stream of new launches and deorbiting spacecraft. This activity dramatically increases the population of objects in LEO and, consequently, the risk of collisions. As of 2024, surveillance networks were tracking some 35,000 objects larger than ten centimeters, but the number of debris objects larger than one centimeter, capable of causing catastrophic damage to an operational satellite, is estimated to be more than one million.[40]40
International guidelines for mitigating the creation of new debris, such as those developed by the Inter-Agency Space Debris Coordination Committee (IADC) and endorsed by the UN Committee on the Peaceful Uses of Outer Space (COPUOS), do exist.[41] However, these guidelines are voluntary, and compliance is far from universal or sufficient to stabilize the debris environment.[40] The sheer number of new satellites being launched overwhelms the positive effects of improved mitigation practices.[40] This raises the specter of the Kessler Syndrome, a scenario in which the density of objects in an orbit becomes so high that collisions create a cascading chain reaction of new debris, rendering that orbit unusable for generations.[38] This is a threat to all space operations, but it is a particularly grave danger for long-duration, high-value, irreplaceable scientific assets like the Hubble Space Telescope or the International Space Station.
A more immediate and insidious threat comes from radiofrequency interference (RFI). A growing body of research from multiple independent observatories has now confirmed that SpaceX’s Starlink satellites are “leaking” significant, unintended radio emissions from their onboard electronics.[44] This is not the intended communication signal, but a form of electronic pollution. Critically, this leakage has been detected in frequency bands between 150.05 and 153 megahertz, a slice of the spectrum that is internationally protected and reserved exclusively for radio astronomy.[44]
The intensity of this leaked radiation is staggering. Researchers have found that the signals are up to seven orders of magnitude—ten million times—brighter than the faint cosmic signals that radio telescopes are designed to detect.[45] This level of interference effectively blinds groundbased telescopes in these bands, drowning out the whispers from the early universe and jeopardizing research into everything from the formation of the first stars to the magnetic fields of exoplanets.[44] Because these emissions are classified as “unintentional,” they currently exist in a legal gray area. ITU regulations, which strictly govern deliberate transmissions in protected bands, do not currently apply, leaving no clear legal recourse to stop the pollution.[44]
This situation is forcing a dangerous normalization of a degraded space environment. The prevailing attitude among commercial operators and even some regulators is shifting from a paradigm of preventing interference to one of “managing” it. The FCC’s new rules, which explicitly permit a certain percentage of service degradation for incumbent satellite operators, are a clear example of this shift.[22] In the world of astronomy, the burden of adaptation is being placed squarely on the shoulders of the scientific community. Astronomers are now forced to spend precious time and resources developing complex software filters to try and subtract the overwhelming satellite noise from their data.[44] They are also resorting to negotiating special agreements with operators to have satellites temporarily disabled when they fly over a specific observatory: a solution that is not scalable, places the onus on the victim of the pollution, and is only available to the world’s largest and most influential observatories.[45]
The monopolization of space resources by the LEO constellation boom is not an abstract economic or regulatory concern. It has direct, tangible, and damaging consequences for the future of scientific exploration.
This establishes a new baseline assumption: the “natural” state of the orbital environment is no longer quiet, but inherently noisy. While a commercial broadband service might be able to tolerate a slightly degraded signal, many forms of science cannot. Deep space communication and radio astronomy depend on detecting signals at the absolute limits of physics, with signal-to-noise ratios that leave no margin for error. They cannot simply “manage” a ten-million-fold increase in background noise. The commercial imperative of the LEO boom is thus redefining the very physical environment in which science must be conducted, making some of it difficult and some of it simply impossible.
Part 2: The unseen victim: Starving interplanetary science
The monopolization of space resources by the LEO constellation boom is not an abstract economic or regulatory concern. It has direct, tangible, and damaging consequences for the future of scientific exploration. The most compelling evidence of this harm comes not from academic speculation, but from the documented, official concerns of the very agency tasked with leading humanity’s journey to the planets: NASA.
The NASA Memos: A Direct Warning from the Scientific Frontier
The “smoking gun” in the case against the unchecked expansion of LEO constellations can be found in NASA’s official filings to the FCC concerning SpaceX’s application for its second-generation (Gen2) Starlink network.[9]9 In a series of letters and comments submitted during the regulatory review process, NASA laid out a catalogue of grave concerns, transforming the debate from one of hypothetical risks to one of documented, operational threats to its core missions.[9]9 These are not the fears of outside observers; they are the sober warnings of the world’s preeminent space agency about the viability of its scientific and human exploration programs in a future dominated by megaconstellations.
NASA’s documented concerns paint a comprehensive picture of a scientific enterprise under siege from every direction:
Loss of launch opportunities: In perhaps its most direct statement on the matter, NASA warned that the sheer physical density of the proposed 30,000-satellite constellation could lead to the “loss of launch and reentry opportunities for NASA missions to the ISS as well as planned planetary missions such as Europa Clipper.”[9]9 This is a stunning admission: the world’s premier space science agency is concerned that a commercial internet service will physically obstruct its path to the outer solar system. For time-sensitive interplanetary missions, which have narrow launch windows dictated by celestial mechanics, such a blockage could mean delays of years or even the cancellation of an entire mission.
Compromised planetary defense: NASA holds a congressional mandate to detect, track, and characterize near-Earth objects (NEOs) that could pose an existential threat to Earth. The agency expressed profound concern that the Gen2 constellation would severely hamper this critical mission. NASA estimated that with 30,000 new satellites, “there could be a Starlink satellite in every asteroid survey image taken” by its wide-field ground-based telescopes. This constant streaking and interference would degrade the quality of observations and could “impact NASA’s ability to fulfill its Congressional mandate.”[9]
Degradation of flagship observatories: The threat extends to assets already in orbit. NASA stated that the new satellites, many of which would orbit above the Hubble Space Telescope, “could double the number of degraded Hubble images” by leaving bright streaks of reflected sunlight across the telescope’s sensitive detectors.[9] This would effectively reduce the scientific return and operational efficiency of one of the most productive scientific instruments ever built.
Overwhelmed collision avoidance systems: While acknowledging the advanced propulsive capabilities of Starlink satellites, NASA explicitly rejected the assumption of perfect safety. The agency stated that “with a constellation of this size, error-free systems and a collision risk of zero should not be assumed.”[9] It raised serious questions about the scalability of autonomous collision avoidance systems, particularly in a future environment where multiple constellations from different operators, each with its own proprietary avoidance logic, must interact without a central traffic controller.[9]
These official statements serve as the evidentiary centerpiece of this report’s thesis, moving the argument from inference to documented fact. The following table summarizes NASA’s primary concerns, illustrating the direct line from LEO constellation deployment to the endangerment of critical scientific and national security space activities.
Table 1: NASA’s official concerns regarding the SpaceX Gen2 constellation
Area of Concern Direct Quote or Summary from NASA Filing [9] Implication for Interplanetary & Science Missions
Launch Collision Risk & Access “NASA raises concerns that the number of Gen2 Starlink satellites...could cause the loss of launch and reentry opportunities for NASA missions...as well as planned planetary missions such as Europa Clipper.” Direct physical and logistical blockage of the path to the outer solar system. Delays or constrains launch windows for irreplaceable, time-sensitive missions.
Planetary Defense “NASA estimates that with the addition of nearly 30,000 SpaceX satellites, there could be a Starlink satellite in every asteroid survey image...potentially impacting NASA’s ability to fulfill its Congressional mandate.” Compromises humanity’s ability to detect and track asteroids that pose an existential threat to Earth.
Astronomical Observation “The Hubble telescope is in an orbit at 535 km and SpaceX’s proposed satellites operating above Hubble’s orbit could double the number of degraded Hubble images...” Reduces the scientific return and operational efficiency of billion-dollar, flagship space observatories.
Orbital Debris & Collision “...with a constellation of this size, error-free systems and a collision risk of zero should not be assumed.” Increases the risk of a catastrophic debris-generating event that could permanently endanger scientific assets in LEO and missions transiting through it.
Threatening the lifeline: The Deep Space Network
Beyond the immediate hazards of collision and optical interference, the LEO boom poses a more insidious threat to the very lifeline of interplanetary exploration: the Deep Space Network (DSN). The DSN is a global network of massive, highly sensitive radio antennas in California, Spain, and Australia that serves as humanity’s sole communications link to missions venturing beyond Earth’s immediate neighborhood.[48] It is what allows scientists to receive data from the James Webb Space Telescope, send commands to the Perseverance rover on Mars, and track the Voyager probes as they journey through interstellar space.[49]
The ultimate cost, therefore, is not just in the missions that are delayed or that cost more than they should. It is in the bold, high-risk, high-reward missions of discovery that are never even proposed.
The DSN operates by detecting incredibly faint radio signals across vast distances. To do this, it uses internationally allocated and protected frequency bands, primarily in the S-band, X-band, and Ka-band, that are designated for “Space Research”.[49] The system’s receivers are cooled to near absolute zero to minimize thermal noise, all in an effort to pick a whisper of a signal out of the cosmic background.
The documented “leakage” of powerful, unintended RFI from Starlink satellites into protected radio astronomy bands sets a deeply alarming precedent.[44] While this leakage has not yet been shown to directly impact DSN frequencies, the underlying principle is what matters. The intense commercial and political pressure for more spectrum, exemplified by the fight over the 12-gigahertz band, creates a constant threat of encroachment on bands adjacent to or even overlapping with those used by the DSN.[25] In future regulatory battles, the designation “Space Research” may not carry the same political or economic weight as a multi-billion-dollar global broadband service with millions of subscribers.
The stakes could not be higher. For a commercial internet service, interference might mean a slower video stream or a dropped connection. For the DSN, interference could mean the permanent loss of contact with a multi-billion-dollar, one-of-a-kind scientific asset. The signal-to-noise ratio for a probe at Saturn or beyond is already at the absolute limit of what is physically possible. There is no margin for a newly degraded, noisy radio environment. The electronic pollution generated by the LEO boom threatens to sever our connection to the outer solar system.
The opportunity cost: The missions that will never fly
The most profound cost of the LEO constellation era may be the one that is hardest to quantify: the ambitious scientific missions that will never leave the drawing board. The resource scarcity and environmental degradation created by the LEO boom have a chilling effect on the conception and proposal of new interplanetary endeavors. Scientists, engineers, and mission planners at NASA, ESA, and universities around the world must now contend with a fundamentally more hostile and constrained environment.
When designing a new mission to an outer planet or an asteroid, they must now factor in a congested launch manifest dominated by commercial priorities, a debris-filled orbital environment that increases mission risk, and a polluted radio spectrum that complicates communications and data return. Each of these factors adds cost, complexity, and risk to any proposed mission, making it harder to secure funding and approval.
Furthermore, the entire space ecosystem, from venture capital and private investment to engineering talent and university curricula, is being pulled into the powerful gravitational field of the LEO commercial market.[53] The industry is optimizing itself for the mass production, deployment, and operation of standardized, short-lifespan commercial satellites.[9] This paradigm is fundamentally antithetical to the needs of scientific exploration, which relies on bespoke, high-reliability, long-duration spacecraft designed for one-of-a-kind missions.[48] The stringent and costly planetary protection requirements for any mission that could potentially contact a body like Mars or Europa add yet another layer of complexity and expense that LEO constellations do not face, creating an even more unlevel playing field.[56]
The ultimate cost, therefore, is not just in the missions that are delayed or that cost more than they should. It is in the bold, high-risk, high-reward missions of discovery that are never even proposed because the barriers to entry, the cost of launch, the availability of a launch slot, and the risk of operating in a congested and noisy environment have simply become too high. The gold rush to LEO is consuming the resources that would have fueled the next generation of exploration. The table below starkly contrasts the two diverging models of space activity, highlighting the systemic disadvantages now faced by the scientific community.
Table 2: The widening gulf: LEO commercial vs. interplanetary science
Metric LEO Megaconstellation Model Interplanetary Science Model
Primary Goal Commercial ROI, Global Connectivity [53] Scientific Discovery, Exploration
Business Model High-volume, mass-produced, short-lifespan assets[9]9 Bespoke, high-reliability, long-duration assets [48]
Launch Economics Optimized for low-cost, high-cadence LEO deployment High-cost, high-energy, infrequent BEO launches[7]
Regulatory Burden Beneficiary of streamlined, accelerated approvals[22] Subject to complex, costly planetary protection protocols[56]
Relationship to Environment Source of significant orbital debris and RFI[38] Highly vulnerable to orbital debris and RFI[9]
Success Metric Market share, subscribers, revenue[14] Scientific data return, mission longevity[50]
Conclusion: Rebalancing the commons for a multi-destination future
The rapid expansion of LEO megaconstellations, driven by immense commercial potential and fueled by geopolitical competition, represents a fundamental paradigm shift in humanity’s use of space. While this revolution promises transformative benefits in global communications, it has inadvertently created a system of resource monopolization that threatens to foreclose other futures. By dominating launch capacity, overwhelming and reshaping regulatory frameworks, and polluting the orbital environment with physical and electronic debris, this new commercial model is systematically marginalizing and starving the enterprise of interplanetary science. The path to the planets, once a frontier of collective human ambition, is being paved over by a commercial toll road to LEO.
I did not expect to find that the future of planetary science might depend on a regulatory loophole in Geneva or a pricing decision in Hawthorne.
The evidence presented in this analysis, culminating in direct warnings from NASA, demonstrates that this is not a distant or hypothetical problem. The current governance model for space, largely based on a “first-come, first-served” principle for resources and voluntary, often-ignored guidelines for environmental protection, is dangerously inadequate for the realities of the modern space age.[6] It was designed for a world of a few state actors launching a handful of satellites per year, not a world of private companies launching thousands. A paradigm shift is urgently needed, moving from a posture of passively allocating resources and merely mitigating the worst harms to one of proactively and holistically managing the orbital commons for a diversity of uses. If we are to ensure a multi-destination future for humanity, we must rebalance our priorities.
To that end, the following policy recommendations are proposed:
Holistic spectrum and orbit management: National regulators like the FCC and international bodies like the ITU must evolve from being passive, reactive allocators to active, strategic managers of the space environment. The flawed “first-come, first-served” model for NGSO systems, which incentivizes speculative squatting on resources, must be replaced with a framework that explicitly weighs the unique, non-commercial, and often irreplaceable value of scientific missions against commercial interests.[19] This could involve the formal reservation of specific “quiet” frequency bands or the allocation of dedicated launch windows for scientific and planetary defense missions, ensuring they are not crowded out by commercial traffic.
Mandatory resource impact assessments: The burden of proof must be shifted. Instead of the scientific community having to prove harm after the fact, any application for a new megaconstellation or a major expansion of an existing one should be required to include a comprehensive “Space Environment Impact Study.” This assessment must go far beyond current requirements to quantitatively model the cumulative impact of the proposed system on: launch availability and access for other sectors; collision risk and debris generation across all populated orbits; and radio frequency interference in both the allocated commercial bands and adjacent bands used for science. This would compel applicants to demonstrate that their system will not unduly harm the broader space ecosystem and would provide regulators with the data needed to make informed, balanced decisions.
Enshrining science as a strategic priority: National and international space policies must be updated to explicitly recognize that while LEO broadband is an important economic and social goal, irreplaceable scientific activities like deep space exploration, radio astronomy, and planetary defense constitute a vital strategic interest for all of humanity. As experts like astrophysicist Jonathan McDowell have warned, we urgently need a “highway code for outer space” before the orbital commons become congested and polluted to the point of being unusable for generations.[58] This recognition must be backed by binding international agreements and domestic regulations that guarantee the resources necessary for these missions to continue.
I began this research hoping to understand the economics of megaconstellations. I did not expect to find that the future of planetary science might depend on a regulatory loophole in Geneva or a pricing decision in Hawthorne. The gold rush to LEO offers tremendous promise, but it must not become a permanent roadblock that prevents us from reaching for the rest of the universe.
References
SpaceX rideshare mission, accessed July 28, 2025.
Starlink and International Law: The Challenge of Corporate Sovereignty in Outer Space, accessed July 28, 2025.
Guowang - Wikipedia, accessed August 4, 2025.
Blue Origin Launch Schedule - RocketLaunch.Live, accessed July 28, 2025.
What’s the conversion rate from cost/mass to LEO to other orbits of ..., accessed July 28, 2025.
SpaceX Launch Manifest – ElonX.net, accessed July 28, 2025.
Take Material to Space or Make It There?, accessed July 28, 2025.
5 Years of SpaceX Rideshare Missions: The Spoils of Monopoly ..., accessed July 28, 2025.
Global Satellite and Space Industry Report 2025: Market Overview and Outlook to 2030, accessed July 28, 2025.
Key Governance Issues in Space - CSIS Aerospace Security, accessed July 28, 2025.
THE INVISIBLE LINK: KEY SPECTRUM ISSUES FOR SPACE, accessed July 28, 2025.
Space calendar 2025: Rocket launches, skywatching events, missions & more!, accessed July 28, 2025.
2025 Launch Manifest : r/BlueOrigin - Reddit, accessed July 28, 2025.
How much more money can SpaceX spend on Starship? - Reddit, accessed July 28, 2025.
Is Elon Musk’s Starlink profitable? SpaceX satellites are money losers - The Economic Times, accessed July 28, 2025.
Qianfan - Wikipedia, accessed August 4, 2025.
China Kicks Off its First Mega Constellation - Payload Space, accessed August 4, 2025.
Impact of SpaceX rideshare on small sat launchers market - NASA Spaceflight Forum, accessed July 28, 2025.
Orbital ambitions: LEO satellite constellations and strategic competition, accessed July 28, 2025.
Mega-Constellations: Disrupting the Space Legal Order, accessed July 28, 2025.
One million (paper) satellites | Outer Space Institute, accessed July 28, 2025.
Over 1 million satellites could be headed to Earth orbit, and scientists are worried | Space, accessed July 28, 2025.
Spectrum of Change: FCC to Back Satellite Growth With America-First Policies, accessed July 28, 2025.
Low Orbit, High Stakes: All-in on the LEO Broadband Competition ..., accessed July 28, 2025.
SpaceX says 5G (12 GHZ) expansion would make Starlink ‘unusable’ for most Americans -, accessed July 28, 2025.
SPACEX ANALYSIS OF THE EFFECT OF TERRESTRIAL MOBILE DEPLOYMENT ON NGSO FSS DOWNLINK OPERATIONS - Starlink, accessed July 28, 2025.
Full article: Killing them softly: China’s counterspace developments and force posture in space, accessed August 4, 2025.
China Space Strategy and Developments - CSIS, accessed August 4, 2025.
The Legal Landscape of Satellite Constellations - Number Analytics, accessed August 4, 2025.
What goes up must come down: How megaconstellations like SpaceX’s Starlink network pose a grave safety threat to us on Earth | Live Science, accessed July 28, 2025.
ESA Space Environment Report 2024 - European Space Agency, accessed July 28, 2025.
General Assembly - UNOOSA, accessed July 28, 2025.
Space Debris Mitigation and Remediation: Policy and Legal Challenges - UNOOSA, accessed July 28, 2025.
Space Radio Regulatory Framework in China - UNOOSA, accessed August 4, 2025.
Starlink: low-earth orbit satellites could ruin radio astronomy - Polytechnique Insights, accessed July 28, 2025.
Starlink satellites significantly interfering with radio astronomy observations, accessed July 28, 2025.
SpaceX’s Starlink satellites leak radio signals that threaten to ruin astronomy - Earth.com, accessed July 28, 2025.
Starlink Satellites Are ‘Leaking’ Radio Emissions - Explorersweb, accessed July 28, 2025.
Proliferated Commercial Satellite Constellations: Implications for National Security, accessed July 28, 2025.
Large Satellite Constellations and Their Potential Impact on VGOS Operations - IVS, accessed July 28, 2025.
www.ntia.gov, accessed July 28, 2025.
What frequencies does NASA use to communicate with spacecraft? - Astronomy Magazine, accessed July 28, 2025.
Before the Federal Communications Commission Washington, D.C. ..., accessed July 28, 2025.
2110-2120 MHz 1. Band Introduction 2. Allocations, accessed July 28, 2025.
NASA Spectrum Usage - NASA, accessed July 28, 2025.
Space Launch Services Market Size, Growth, Forecasts To 2033 - Spherical Insights, accessed July 28, 2025.
Space Launch Services Market Size & Share Report, 2030 - Grand View Research, accessed July 28, 2025.
Space Launch Services Market Size, Share, Growth Report 2032, accessed July 28, 2025.
Planetary Protection - NASA’s Safety and Mission Assurance, accessed July 28, 2025.
The challenge of planetary protection - COSPAR Committee on Space Research, accessed July 28, 2025.
5 ways the world’s costliest satellite launch will reshape science: What ISRO-NASA collaboration means for future scientists, accessed July 28, 2025.
Moon to Mars Architecture - White Papers - NASA, accessed July 28, 2025.
This Astronomer is Sounding a Warning on ‘Space Junk’ | Harvard ..., accessed July 28, 2025.
Drivers of Space Sustainability - Secure World Foundation, accessed July 28, 2025.
Europe Facing Space Access Crisis Says ESA Director General - SPACE & DEFENSE, accessed August 4, 2025.
Europe’s space ambitions on the right trajectory, ESA Director General says - Yahoo, accessed August 4, 2025.
SpaceX Wins Two ESA Launches as Europe Reconfigures Rocket Rides, accessed August 4, 2025.
China in the Race to Low Earth Orbit: Perspectives on the Future Internet Constellation Guowang | Ifri, accessed August 4, 2025.
Vaibhav Chhimpa is an emerging space analyst and physics student from India, focusing on the tradeoffs between LEO commercialization and interplanetary science. His background in computational fluid dynamics modeling and electromagnetic systems informs his technical critiques of orbital sustainability. He has contributed to NASA Open Science initiatives and collaborates with academic mentors on space-environment research.
The Future Of Data Storage-Look Up
data center
The Lonestar Data Holdings data center (black box) mounted on the IM-2 lander before launch. (credit: Lonestar Data Holdings)
The future of data storage? Look up
by Sebastien Jean
Monday, August 18, 2025
In March of this year, the world’s first hardware data center landed successfully on the Moon. The size of a shoebox, that one small bit of hardware represented a giant leap for the future of data storage and processing in space. And it was no publicity stunt. It was proof that off-world data storage is technically possible.
The idea of putting data centers in space might sound like science fiction, but the forces driving this shift are very real.
That assurance couldn’t come at a better time. With global data volumes doubling every several years, Earth-based data centers are struggling to keep up. As energy consumption, land scarcity, and environmental concerns increase, many enterprises are beginning to look upwards.
Why space, why now? Mounting pressures force data infrastructure shift
The idea of putting data centers in space might sound like science fiction, but the forces driving this shift are very real. Artificial intelligence, cloud computing, and IoT technologies are fueling unprecedented demand for data processing and storage, which requires continual growth in the number of terrestrial data centers.
In fact, McKinsey estimates global demand for data center capacity could almost triple by 2030, with AI capacity needs increasing 3.5 times and making up nearly three-fourths of the total. And finding suitable locations for new terrestrial data centers is getting harder due to a range of constraints.
The limits of Earth-based data centers
A 2024 EPRI study estimated that data centers could consume up to 9% of US electricity generation by 2030, more than double the amount currently used. With energy already a precious commodity, these facilities’ carbon footprints are too big. Terrestrial data centers strain power grids, eat up valuable real estate, and consume millions of gallons of water for cooling. On a warming planet with limited resources, this growth is unsustainable.
National security and data resilience concerns
The world’s data centers are vulnerable to natural disasters, wars, political shifts, cyberattacks, and even physical security breaches. Off-world storage could offer a new layer of disaster-proofing and cyber resilience. Copies of critical data stored on the Moon or in Earth orbit would remain intact. Space-based infrastructure could become the ultimate safeguard for governments, enterprises, and even humanity’s most important knowledge.
Bottlenecks in space data processing
While we rely heavily on satellites for Earth observation, most satellite-generated data must still be transmitted back to Earth for processing. This creates severe bandwidth bottlenecks. Microwave links are limited by government-controlled allocations of a finite frequency spectrum and laser links are limited by line of sight—meaning a cloudy day can disrupt transmissions.
Potential benefits of data storage on or near the Moon
Space-based data centers bypass many of Earth’s challenges:
A secure, resilient alternative
As global data demand surges and terrestrial data centers reach their limits, space is emerging as a compelling alternative for sustainable, secure digital infrastructure.
Data centers and storage networks on or near the Moon don’t need water for cooling. They don’t consume limited energy resources, as solar power is ever-present. They don’t use valuable real estate or contribute to global warming. They’re less constrained by jurisdictional or sovereignty conflicts and less vulnerable to physical accidents or intentional attacks (than, say, undersea data transport cables.) For instance, a laser-linked data center in orbit could prevent such single points of failure.
Ultra-low latency at the edge for real-time insights
Processing data directly in orbit means raw data gathered via sensors can be stored and processed in space, then condensed into actionable insights sent to Earth. This is crucial for real-time applications such as Earth observation and disaster detection; national and space defense and awareness; IoT and autonomous systems coordination; and AI and machine learning models that depend on continuous data streams.
The Moon as humanity’s backup drive
The lunar surface offers a unique advantage: security through isolation. It’s a lot harder to hack or physically attack a data center on the Moon. It doesn’t face the same Earth-based disasters, physical sabotage, or accidental hardware mishaps. The Moon could be the ideal location for critical historical archives and other vital information that might be lost or destroyed if stored on Earth.
New challenges must be overcome
For all its promise and potential, space-based data storage and processing isn’t without serious hurdles. With every new venture that aims to solve existing challenges, new difficulties arise and need to be addressed. These include:
Thermal management and radiation
Managing heat in a vacuum is difficult. While space is cold, orbital data centers will still need a way to vent excess heat effectively. Hardware will also need to be able to withstand radiation. There are a couple of ways to mitigate radiation risks: using multi-material shielding, such as aluminum, tungsten, and tantalum in layers less than a millimeter thick; or use a storage device that has a high baseline level of radiation tolerance.
High costs of launch and maintenance
Though space launch investment amounts have adjusted in recent years, launching a single kilogram into space can still cost thousands of dollars. Hardware maintenance is also an issue. Repairing damaged systems remotely is difficult, even with robotics. Any infrastructure sent to the Moon or into orbit must be highly autonomous and durable.
The Moon is just the beginning
As global data demand surges and terrestrial data centers reach their limits, space is emerging as a compelling alternative for sustainable, secure digital infrastructure. Lunar and orbital data centers promise resilience, energy efficiency, and enhanced data sovereignty, and address many of the serious concerns plaguing Earth-based facilities.
While the technology certainly faces steep challenges, many enthusiasts say the hurdles are more solvable than they might at first seem—and the momentum is undeniable. The Moon is destined to play a key role in the future of digital infrastructure, not only as a backup for Earth’s critical data but as a foundation for a growing lunar economy.
The first lunar data center was just the beginning. Right now, nations and enterprises are researching, innovating, and planning to expand into space. In the near future, scientists expect that robots, research stations, and even early human colonies on the Moon will use and generate massive volumes of data and require robust digital infrastructure. Whether for Earth, for future Mars missions, or far beyond, one thing is clear: the future of data may be written in the stars.
Sebastien Jean is chief technology officer of Phison, which partnered with Lonestar Data Holdings to fly a data center payload on the IM-2 lunar lander mission earlier this year.
The New Italian Law On Space Economy
ASI HQ
The new Italian space law gives the Italian space agency ASI new responsibilities for overseeing national space activities. (credit: ASI)
The new Italian law on the space economy: regulatory framework and incentives for businesses
by Italo de Feo, Annalisa Pistilli, and Pasquale Distefano
Monday, August 18, 2025
For several years, the space economy has been one of the most promising strategic sectors for economic growth, technological innovation, and security. The drive towards the exploitation of Earth’s orbits and the commercial use of space technologies is part of a dynamic geopolitical and scientific context. In this context, Italy is positioning itself as a leading European player in the sector.
The national legislator recognizes space as a “strategic crossroads of geopolitical, economic, scientific and military interests.”
Against this backdrop, Law No. 89 of June 13, 2025 (the “Law”), containing “Provisions on the space economy”, was recently approved. Published in the Official Gazette on June 24, 2025, and effective from the following day, it is the first piece of legislation to comprehensively regulate space activities in Italy.
The national legislator recognizes space as a “strategic crossroads of geopolitical, economic, scientific and military interests” and introduces the obligation of prior authorization for any space activity that falls within the scope of Art. 3 of the Law (launch, satellite management, reentry, disposal, constellations, stratospheric platforms, resource extraction, in-orbit assembly, etc.), under penalty of imprisonment for three to six years and administrative fines imposed by the Italian Space Agency (Agenzia Spaziale Italiana, or ASI), ranging from €20,000 to €50,000. At the same time, to boost investment in space business, a Space Economy Fund is established to support technological innovation, productive development, and the commercial exploitation of national activities. Special rules have also been introduced to support the effective participation of small and medium enteprises (SMEs) and innovative startups in the space value chain.
The authorization system: requirements and procedure
The law provides for a mandatory authorization regime for all space activities carried out on Italian territory by both Italian and foreign operators or by national operators that carry out space activities abroad (Article 4): in particular, foreign operators are subject to a mechanism of mutual recognition of the authorization issued by their country of origin, with a consequent reduction in terms of time for issuing the license to 120 days. The procedure is complex and involves several institutional bodies, including the ASI, the Interministerial Committee (COMINT), and the competent authority, identified as the Prime Minister or the delegated political authority (Article 7).
Among the objective requirements for authorization (Article 5), particular attention is paid to security, cyber resilience, environmental sustainability, and the mitigation of space debris risk. The subjective requirements (Article 6) include financial soundness, technical capabilities, and the mandatory taking out of civil liability insurance. For start-ups and SMEs, the law introduces a more flexible assessment of financial capacity, taking into account factors such as the presence of institutional investors and participation in acceleration programs.
The authorization may be amended, suspended, or revoked for reasons that arise or if the requirements are no longer met (Articles 8-9). The transfer of ownership or management of the space object is also subject to authorization (Article 10).
Particularly important are the provisions on civil liability (Article 18), which set out the operator's liability for damage caused to third parties on the Earth's surface or to aircraft in flight. There is also a provision on insurance (Article 21), which sets a maximum limit of €100,000,000 per claim. However, there is the possibility of reduced limits: up to €20,000,000 for innovative startups or activities with exclusively scientific purposes. The provisions of the Civil Code remain unchanged with regard to contractual and civil liability.
The establishment of a national register of space objects is also relevant. Operators are obliged to communicate pertinent information, which ASI is responsible for maintaining and updating (Articles 15 et seq.).
The Space Economy Fund
In addition to the regulatory framework, the law introduces a package of measures aimed at supporting the national industrial ecosystem. These include the establishment of a Space Economy Fund with an initial allocation of €35 million for 2025. Article 23 specifies the distribution of interventions into (a) non-repayable grants, up to a limit of 70%, and (b) financial operations, including in combination with each other, for the remaining 30%. Within 90 to 180 days of the law coming into force, detailed rules will follow, to be adopted by a specific decree of the Ministry of Enterprise and Made in Italy, in agreement with the Minister of Economy and Finance and, for the part falling within their competence, with the Minister of Foreign Affairs and International Cooperation and the Minister of University and Research.
SMEs and startups
One of the goals of the decree is to encourage SMEs to participate in public procurement in the space sector by setting aside mandatory quotas for them in tenders.
The law represents a significant milestone in establishing the regulatory framework for the space economy in Italy, integrating rigorous regulatory tools alongside measures that promote the industrial expansion of the sector.
Article 27 provides that, in the case of contracts not divided into lots, the tender notice shall establish a performance reserve for innovative startups and SMEs, through mandatory subcontracting of not less than 10% of the contract value. The contracting authority may derogate from this rule only if no companies capable of meeting the above percentage can be found in this category on the market.
Additional measures to enhance the participation of SMEs and innovative start-ups have also been introduced. It is therefore stated that, when evaluating the most economically advantageous tender, the contracting authority may consider the percentage of work that the successful tenderer intends to subcontract to innovative start-ups or SMEs.
The amount due for services provided is to be paid directly to the subcontractor when subcontracting is carried out by innovative start-ups and SMEs. Direct payment to subcontractors and an advance payment of 40% of the contract value within 15 days of the commencement of services are also permitted.
The law represents a significant milestone in establishing the regulatory framework for the space economy in Italy, integrating rigorous regulatory tools alongside measures that promote the industrial expansion of the sector. For businesses, particularly SMEs and innovative startups, aiming to operate in this sector, the new framework marks the beginning of a phase with greater opportunities to access public resources. The context nonetheless demands a high level of compliance with technical, licensing, and liability standards.
Italo de Feo is a Partner at CMS Italy and Co-Head of the firm’s Technology, Media & Communications (TMC) department. Dual-qualified in Italy and the UK, he advises on IT law, digital transformation, outsourcing, cybersecurity, and data protection. He is widely recognized for his leadership in tech law and regularly assists clients in complex regulatory and commercial matters, including emerging sectors like space law.
Annalisa Pistilli is a Senior Associate at CMS Italy, focusing on technology, telecoms, and related legal issues. She advises domestic and international clients on regulatory compliance, commercial contracts, and innovation-driven legal frameworks.
Pasquale Distefano is a Senior Associate in the CMS Italy TMC Department. He specializes in data protection, IT law, consumer rights, and e-commerce. With experience advising both multinational and local clients, he provides support on compliance, digital contracts, and tech-sector regulations.
In Memoriam Of A Great Space Historian-R. Cargill Hall
Hall
R. Cargill Hall was a space historian and a key figure in writing the history of satellite reconnaissance. (credit: R. Cargill Hall)
In memoriam: R. Cargill Hall
by Dwayne Day
Monday, August 18, 2025
Space historian R. Cargill Hall passed away on April 10, 2025, at the age of 88. Cargill was a space historian and a key figure in writing the history of satellite reconnaissance. In the 1960s, Cargill accepted a position with Lockheed Missile and Space Division in Sunnyvale, California. While working at Lockheed, Cargill attended California State University at San Jose, receiving an MA degree in 1966. He later went to work at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory.
Cargill believed in making early Cold War history public, and worked on doing what he could. That was an unusual attitude for a military historian.
Cargill wrote Lunar Impact: The History of Project Ranger. That book was an important program history sponsored by NASA. The agency also sponsored a history of Lunar Orbiter, although sadly, not an official history of Surveyor. Lunar Impact detailed the turbulent early years of Ranger, and the management shakeup that took place as a result. Cargill was the winner of the first Robert Goddard Historical Essay Award.
In the 1970s, Cargill began writing histories for the Air Force. He wrote an internal history of the Midas infrared missile warning satellite program and later wrote both an internal, and then a public, history of the Defense Meteorological Satellite Program (DMSP). He published the Midas history in Quest magazine.
I met Cargill in the mid-1990s when he was a historian for the Air Force, when he had given me a thick copy of the Air Force history The Roswell Report. He had worked in multiple Air Force history positions and had written a book about the World War II military mission that had killed Japanese Admiral Yamamoto, the mastermind of the Pearl Harbor attack. Cargill did not consider the deliberate targeting of a senior military official to be a legitimate war mission.
By the late 1990s, he became a historian for the National Reconnaissance Office. I am sure that while in that job he collected records and probably conducted interviews on current NRO programs and that work will not be declassified for decades. But Cargill believed in making early Cold War history public, and worked on doing what he could. That was an unusual attitude for a military historian.
There was one project he began working on in the latter 1990s that was very significant and for which he deserves major credit: uncovering the history of top secret aircraft overflights of the Soviet Union in the early 1950s, before the well-known U-2 missions that began in 1956. During the 1990s, the history of the U-2 missions was being declassified by the CIA. But there were rumors of earlier flights, some using Royal Air Force aircraft, that had taken place in the early-mid-1950s. Although there was public information about “peripheral” missions that were intended to stay outside of Soviet territory and occasionally accidentally ventured into it, sometimes with tragic results, Cargill was interested in the missions that had deliberately penetrated Soviet airspace. Only one or two of them were known, but there were hints that several more had been undertaken. Initially, Cargill began digging through classified records but did not manage to find anything significant. Fortunately, he kept at it.
Like many historians, Cargill was partially motivated by what he saw as bad or sloppy history. A historian had written an article claiming that a top US Air Force general was using these reconnaissance flights to start World War III, figuring that Strategic Air Command would then flatten the Soviet Union—not much different than General Jack D. Ripper in Dr. Strangelove. Cargill didn’t believe that, and wanted to uncover the truth.
We arrived at the location and saw the camera sitting on top of its pallet. For me, this was like uncrating the Ark of the Covenant at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark.
Eventually, Cargill’s dogged determination bore fruit and he began to learn about pilots who had conducted some of these missions. There were few official records, possibly because the missions were so secret that nothing had been written down in the first place. But he did find people who were involved, and eventually held a history symposium in early 2001. That led to a proceedings. What he had found was many more flights than historians had suspected, but no indication that these were part of a coordinated campaign. Indeed, in some cases military commanders may have acted without senior approval. By the U-2 era and later, overflights became much more coordinated and centralized, as presidents did not want to risk war because some local commander did something stupid. Cargill’s work made possible the books that have been written since then on early Cold War era reconnaissance overflights, adding tremendously to the historical record.
Cargill was friendly, but also a bit of a curmudgeon. He was not fond of non-government historians like me writing about still classified programs based upon limited information; he believed that they should wait until the information was officially declassified, even if that meant waiting only three or four decades more. His view was that a partial history was worthless and that we should wait until the more complete history could be told. I was a bit annoyed by his attitude, in part because it meant that for certain subjects only the government could ever tell the story, but we never discussed it much. Part of the problem was that few official military historians cared about making their work public, meaning that certain subjects, like the Air Force’s space history, remained largely unknown. But Cargill did have a track record of producing public histories and wasn’t just talk.
I have one fun memory of Cargill. Probably in 2002 he and I were invited to go to a storage facility for the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum. They were preparing to open the new Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Museum near Dulles International Airport, and part of the preparations for that involved doing a full inventory of the museum’s holdings. A curator had pulled out an artifact that had been in storage for 30 years, the panoramic camera for the canceled Apollo 18 mission. The PanCam was derived from a camera built by Itek and developed for the SR-71 and the U-2 reconnaissance planes. We arrived at the location and saw the camera sitting on top of its pallet. For me, this was like uncrating the Ark of the Covenant at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. It was about a meter and a half long and a meter wide and gleaming white, looking brand new, and beautiful.
Alas, that camera has never been put on display at the Smithsonian. Cargill mentioned that he had about seven more of the aircraft version sitting in a classified warehouse, and he was hoping he could get them declassified and donated to museums. The guy had some cool toys, and he wanted to share.
Dwayne Day also once won the Robert Goddard Historical Essay Award and had to wear a tuxedo to receive it. He can be reached at zirconic1@cox.net.
Saxa Vord: Europe's First Fully Licensed Spaceport
SaxaVord
The site of SaxaVord Spaceport in the Shetland Islands. (credit: S. Fawkes)
Frank Strang and SaxaVord: Europe’s first fully licensed vertical launch site
by Steve Fawkes
Monday, August 18, 2025
Last week saw the sad news of the passing of a little-known but important space pioneer: Frank Strang, MBE. Frank was the founder and CEO of SaxaVord, the first fully licensed vertical spaceport in Europe. His energy, determination, and drive took the idea of a spaceport in the remote Shetland Islands from a crazy idea through to an operating facility which is scheduled to host its first orbital launch later this year. In the words of his friend and colleague Scott Hammond:
When we first identified the prospects for a spaceport at Lamba Ness in Unst, Frank would not take no for an answer and broke through barriers that would have deterred lesser people. He was a real force of nature, and his vision and his grit got us to where we are today, bringing the Unst and Shetland communities, investors, and government with us.
In May I was introduced to Frank and his energy and commitment to the project shone through on a long Teams call. Our conversation was followed up my visit to the site in mid-May and after that I wrote the piece below.
The far north of the Shetland Islands does not immediately come to mind when thinking about space launches, but quietly the team at SaxaVord Spaceport has built the first fully licenced vertical launch spaceport in Europe, and a critical asset for the UK as the private space business expands. The first launch is planned for later in 2025.
SaxaVord is almost certainly the only space launch site with a bronze age burial site, which may have been a 4,000-year-old ritual cremation cemetery.
I was recently lucky enough to visit the site and meet the team behind SaxaVord which is located on Unst, the northern most inhabited island in the Shetland Islands, some 1,125 kilometers north of London, 600 kilometers north of Edinburgh and only 400 kilometers east of Bergen, Norway. From the pioneering days of Peenemunde launch sites have always been in remote locations for lots of reasons, including safety and security, but Unst seems particularly remote. After a flight to Sumburgh (actually two flights in my case), the drive north is punctuated by two ferry rides, and each island seems more remote than the last. The environment is beautiful.
The background to the development of SaxaVord is that in 2017 the UK government commissioned the SCEPTRE report, which used the following criteria to assess potential launch sites:
site geography
accessible orbits
population
environmental impact
weather
access and infrastructure
development (economic development and political considerations)
The SCEPTRE report identified SaxaVord as the optimum site for a UK launch site, even though the logistics were considered to be “challenging”. The site has the best orbital access for polar and Sun-synchronous orbits and the location removes the need for launchers to dogleg to avoid inhabited areas, thus saving fuel. There is also minimal air traffic.
The development of SaxaVord began soon after the SCEPTRE report. Planning permission was initially denied in 2021 by Historic Environment Scotland, citing the damage to the surviving World War Two structures. In January 2022, the objection was withdrawn with Historic Environment Scotland stating, “we recognise the benefits that this development will bring to the community in Unst.” Subsequent development has been helped by the existing infrastructure that was left over from the former Royal Air Force station, which operated a critical Cold War radar system. Having closed the site in 2006, RAF re-opened the radar system as an autonomous Remote Radar Head in 2019. The buildings and facilities, including housing, had previously been sold to the developer and used as holiday and temporary accommodation.
SaxaVord
A bit of humor at a SaxaVord construction site. (credit: S. Fawkes)
SaxaVord sits in a unique and beautiful environment and the spaceport is committed to sustainability. Close monitoring of bird nesting sites has demonstrated that bird life has actually increased during the construction phase. The site is installing solar panels to reduce fossil fuel usage and is planning a micro-grid, as well as electrifying transport and construction vehicles where possible. It is almost certainly the only space launch site with a bronze age burial site, which may have been a 4,000-year-old ritual cremation cemetery. The historic World War Two buildings have to be preserved, even though without the development of the spaceport they would have eventually collapsed, and in any event were never visited.
The future for SaxaVord looks bright. It is very sad that Frank Strang won’t be here to see it.
The site was the first of only two licenced orbital launch sites in Europe, the other being Andøya in Norway, and it is licenced for up to 30 launches a year. It has the potential for six launch pads, with one currently operational and two others under construction. Each launch pad is built to the customer specifications. The first operational pad is for Rocket Factory Augsburg. RFA has been granted a launch licence for orbital flights, the first of its kind in the UK and Europe. The RFA ONE vehicle can launch 1,300 kilograms into Sun-synchronous orbit. The company uses factory concepts, serial production, and techniques such as 3-D printing to lower costs, using conventional engineering and available equipment whereever possible. Examples include using a standard tower crane for an umbilical tower and standard industrial liquid oxygen systems. RFA’s unique technology is its Helix engine, which uses a staged combustion cycle that is more efficient than traditional open-cycle engines, resulting in 30% more payload capacity.
In May 2024, RFA conducted a successful four-engine hotfire test at SaxaVord. This was followed by an anomaly during a subsequent engine test in August, which led to the destruction of the stage. The company remains confident that they will launch payloads into orbit later this year.
As well as the launch pads, state-of-the-art tracking, and range safety systems, the site is completing the first integration building which will include fully integrated clean rooms that will allow preparation, assembly, and testing of launchers before moving them to the launch pad. As well as launch services, SaxaVord also operates a nearby ground station with several customers, including SpaceX.
SaxaVord has been developed with private capital and some government support. With growing demand for space launches, and the strategic need for UK and Europe to have their own independent launch facilities, the future for SaxaVord looks bright. It is very sad that Frank Strang won’t be here to see it.
Steve Fawkes is an expert on distributed energy, renewable energy, and energy efficiency who also has a lifelong passion for spaceflight. He has published widely, mainly on energy subjects but also on spaceflight, including on his blog onlyelevenpercent.com. He has also flown in the zero-g training plane and a MiG-25 in Russia.
A Museum Has An Exhibit On The Japanese Space Program
Miraikan
Visitors explore the “Deep Space - To the Moon and Beyond” exhibition at Miraikan in Tokyo. (credit: J. Foust)
A museum exhibition on Japanese spaceflight
by Jeff Foust
Monday, August 18, 2025
Museums offer a window into how societies recognize and assess spaceflight. For example, renovations at the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum include new galleries where commercial space takes a more prominent role than before, with artifacts ranging from spacesuits to rocket engines (see “Commercial space at the National Air and Space Museum”, The Space Review, August 4, 2025). There is still plenty of NASA artifacts in the museum, but the update shows that the space agency is increasingly sharing the stage with other space players.
An opportunity to see another country’s perspective on spaceflight opened last month. Just after the Spacetide commercial space conference in Tokyo, Japan’s National Museum of Emerging Science and Innovation, or Miraikan, opened a special exhibition called “Deep Space - To the Moon and Beyond”. While the museum already had some space artifacts on display in its permanent collection, it billed the exhibition as one of the biggest displays of space items in the country, including “all the latest space exploration technologies and their achievements.”
Miraikan
A full-scale model of the “Lunar Cruiser” pressurized rover being developed by JAXA and Toyota. (credit: J. Foust)
The exhibition is comprehensive, with sections devoted to launch vehicles, satellites, exploration, space science, and more. It relies heavy on models, including a full-size model of a payload fairing half for the H3 rocket. Elsewhere is a full-size model of Lunar Cruiser, the pressurized lunar rover that the Japanese space agency JAXA is developing in collaboration with Toyota for use on later Artemis missions. While it is a low-fidelity model—there is nothing inside to look at, for example—it does give a sense of scale of the vehicle, and allows one to better understand why its delivery to the lunar surface will require a cargo version of the SpaceX Starship lunar lander.
There is some flown hardware—or flight-qualified hardware—on display. The section on launch vehicles has recovered fragments of H-2A payload fairings. Also on display is a collection of parts from launch vehicles, ranging from insulation to part of an interstage section, with an invitation for museumgoers to touch them, allowing people to appreciate how such items are strong yet lightweight (“Try lifting it up!” says a sign in English next to one item, a truss rod.)
Miraikan
Visitors are encouraged to feel some rocket components. (credit: J. Foust)
The most prominent piece of flown hardware on display, though, is not Japanese. It’s the descent capsule from Soyuz MS-20, which flew Japanese billionaire Yusaku Maezawa and his assistant, Yozo Hizano, to the International Space Station in December 2021 along with Russian cosmonaut Alexander Misurkin. The Soyuz spent a week and a half at the ISS on a dedicated private astronaut flight brokered by Space Adventures.
Miraikan
The descent module of the Soyuz MS-20 spacecraft that flew Japanese billionaire Yusaku Maezawa and his assistant, Yozo Hizano, to the ISS in 2021. (credit: J. Foust)
The display of the Soyuz in the museum allows visitors to get up close to the capsule, including peering into the hatch to see the interior. Above it is the parachute used by the capsule on that mission. It is a good opportunity to see a Soyuz up close, but also a reminder of what is missing so far from Japanese spaceflight: a crewed spacecraft.
Miraikan
Looking inside the Soyuz capsule. (credit: J. Foust)
Other sections examine Japan’s contributions to space science, with models of spacecraft as well as grains of asteroid samples returned by the Hayabusa and Hayabusa2 missions, one area where Japan has been a leader. There is some discussion of commercial space as well, with models of synthetic aperture radar imaging satellites being built by Japanese company iQPS and Synspective, as well as models of Interstellar Technologies’ Zero rocket in development and Space One’s Kairos, which failed in its first two launches.
Like many other museum exhibitions, this one concludes with a gift shop. For space exhibits, that usually means some NASA-branded t-shirts and other apparel, and that was true in this case. But there were far more JAXA-branded items, from shirts and hats to models and toys. (Contrast that with the gift shops at the Paris Air Show in June, where there were more items with either the NASA worm or meatball logos than those with ESA logos, even though ESA anchored the show’s space zone and NASA was all but absent.)
Miraikan
Why settle for astronaut ice cream when the gift shop offers space rice and “cosmic algal candy”? (credit: J. Foust)
One such staple of those gift shops is “astronaut ice cream,” which remains popular even though astronauts don’t eat it in space and it tastes terrible. This exhibition’s gift shop, though, offered a far wider range of space-themed food items, from “space rice” to “cosmic algal candy”. There were even “Dream Chaser cookies” that included the design of the spaceplane and the Sierra Space logo printed on them; the company announced several years ago plans for Dream Chaser to land at Oita Airport in Japan. (This reviewer can’t vouch for whether any of them taste better than astronaut ice cream, although that is a low bar.)
Miraikan
Sierra Space’s Dream Chaser isn’t flying yet, but you can get it on a cookie. (credit: J. Foust)
The exhibition is open through September 28 and requires a special ticket separate from the main museum. For adults, admission in 2,200 yen (about US$15), with various discounts for children, groups, and advance purchases. There was, notably, only a short line to buy tickets on the day the exhibition opened on a Saturday in mid-July.
If museums are indeed a way to see how societies view spaceflight, “Deep Space - To the Moon and Beyond” illustrates the breadth of Japanese space activity, from launch vehicles and spacecraft to science and exploration. It also, perhaps unintentionally, shows what it still missing, and where Japan must partner with other countries or companies to achieve its ambitions in space.
Jeff Foust (jeff@thespacereview.com) is the editor and publisher of The Space Review, and a senior staff writer with SpaceNews. He also operates the Spacetoday.net web site. Views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author alone.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)