Nov 8

Nov 8 Space Governance, You’re Our Only Hope

Science & Technology, The Americas, Conflict & Peacekeeping

When Star Wars premiered in 1977, its depiction of space as a battlefront seemed possible only in a galaxy far, far away. Yet by this point the United States and the Soviet Union had already established space as a militarily strategic domain by deploying satellites and rudimentary anti-satellite (ASAT) weapons. In reality, the militarisation of space was far from fiction, though technological limitations meant that it had not yet become a combat zone teeming with Stormtroopers and Jedis. Instead, space primarily served as an extension of terrestrial warfare, aiding the enhancement of military operations and defence on Earth.

In the 21st century, intensifying competition between great powers has reinvigorated concerns about space-based combat. While states like the U.S., Russia, and China publicly acknowledge certain aspects of their space programmes, the specific operational details and intentions underpinning these developments remain vague. In recent years, some of the clearest confirmations of counterspace capabilities have been direct-ascent ASAT tests, in which states ground-launch missiles and target their own satellites. The latest known instance of this occurred in 2021, when Russia successfully destroyed its defunct Kosmos 1408 military satellite with an anti-ballistic missile. In other words, states have confirmed their potential ability to attack space assets using terrestrial capabilities, while their capacity and intentions to deploy weapons in orbit have remained comparatively opaque.

In a strategic shift, the U.S. publicly announced in September 2026 that it has stationed a “space weapon” in orbit for the first time. Since then, experts and commentators have scrambled to understand what this means for the future of space geopolitics, especially because the weapon’s operational capabilities remain ambiguous. This uncertainty highlights a core challenge in international relations: determining a state’s strategic intentions once it confirms new military capabilities.

While announcing the space weapon, Air Force Secretary Troy Meink provided some limited context. He stated his department’s mandate is to ‘defend the homeland, deter all adversaries, and…if necessary…win in combat.’ He cited the growing competition between adversaries to employ emergent technologies, particularly Artificial Intelligence, as the primary threat against this mandate. The purpose of the ‘on-orbit space control weapons,’ according to Meink, is to protect the U.S. – and presumably its space-based assets – from ‘hostile adversary action.’

This wording suggests a defensive posture, presenting U.S. weapon deployment as a response to burgeoning threats. After all, the U.S. operates nearly half of the total satellites in orbit, and both its military and civilian spheres rely heavily upon them. Experts have suggested that the announcement is intended as a deterrence signal directed towards China, Russia, and potentially Iran, given their expanding space programmes. Indeed, the U.S. intelligence community has recently assessed that China and Russia are aggressively developing ASAT weapons – the development of a nuclear space-based weapon by Russia in particular is disquieting. However, deterrence signalling is inherently dualistic: it can be perceived as both defensive and offensive, with the latter being more probable among adversaries. While this announcement may appear to some as transparency designed to deter or reassure, it will likely come across as an overt threat to others.

Shortly after Meink’s address, China’s foreign ministry asserted that the U.S. is ‘preparing for war in outer space’ and explicitly warned of a potential arms race. The Chinese state-owned media outlet Global Times further framed the U.S. announcement as a step toward space hegemony.’ Russian Deputy Foreign Minister Sergei Ryabkov echoed these sentiments and reiterated the call for a legally binding international treaty that would prohibit the use of force against space objects. These accusations are not surprising. In a world where the U.S. and China are vying to outcompete each other technologically, and Russia is desperately trying to keep up, the announcement of a space weapon is provocative to American adversaries. The classic security dilemma encapsulates this dynamic best: even if the U.S. does not intend to use its newly acknowledged capabilities to attack an adversary, its actions may be perceived as such, prompting other powers to react in kind, potentially leading to the normalisation of space weaponisation, and ultimately, an arms race.

The call for space governance is not new. During the Cold War, concerns of a space-based arms race alarmed American, British, and Soviet officials, particularly following the development of intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBMs). In 1967, after years of negotiations, the Outer Space Treaty (OST) emerged as the first legal framework for international space governance. Crucially, it forbids the placement of nuclear weapons and weapons of mass destruction in orbit, precludes states from claiming sovereignty over space, and stipulates that the Moon and other celestial bodies must be used exclusively for peaceful purposes. However, the OST does not specifically prohibit placing conventional weapons in orbit, nor is it enforceable by a designated international body. In this vein, analysts have critiqued the effectiveness of the OST as space technologies continue to develop beyond the scope of its existing provisions, leading many to argue a new treaty is necessary. This raises several challenges.

First, what constitutes a prohibited space weapon? The OST does not define what weapons of mass destruction are, and remains vague about conventional weapon use, posing a problem for delineating which technologies are prohibited in orbit and which are not. Second, many technologies are dual-use, meaning they can be operationalised for commercial and military purposes. This further complicates the delineation process, especially because states may be unwilling to give up certain technologies due to their entrenchment in civilian and military infrastructures. Third, who will verify and enforce these provisions once they have been outlined? Without credible verification mechanisms, a new treaty may struggle to secure compliance or prevent states from exploiting ambiguities in its terms.

Despite these challenges, space governance is essential because it offers a pragmatic way to mitigate the risk of a space-based arms race. Although treaties can be difficult to negotiate and enforce, they have demonstrated the capacity to influence state behaviour in the past. The Montreal Protocol, for instance, established a framework for phasing out ozone-depleting substances, leading to a measurable improvement in the ozone layer. Ratified by every state, it is considered one of the most successful United Nations treaties in history. The Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty, though unsuccessful in attaining universal nuclear disarmament, has significantly slowed the spread of nuclear weapons and supported peaceful nuclear energy use. This is not to say that an agreement on space weapons would definitely succeed; however, both examples demonstrate that international governance can help manage shared threats amid competing interests.

Now that the U.S. has publicly disclosed that it has fielded space-based weapons, it has an opportunity to pursue greater transparency and reduce uncertainty. For example, as one expert suggested, the U.S., China, and Russia could openly acknowledge that they each ‘possess systems on Earth and in orbit that could interfere with, disable, or destroy space assets.’ Such a step might open a pathway toward the development of effective guardrails before strategic competition accelerates into an expensive, open-ended arms race. Ultimately, the objective should be states’ credible reaffirmation of space as a peaceful domain for exploration and cooperation.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of the wider St Andrews Foreign Affairs Review team.