There’s a new space race – will the billionaires win? | Science

If there’s one thing we can count on in this world, it’s human pride, and space and astronomy are no exception.

The ancients believed that everything revolved around the Earth. In the 16th century, Copernicus and his peers overturned this view with the heliocentric model. Since then, telescopes and spacecraft have revealed how insignificant we are. There are hundreds of billions of stars in our Milky Way galaxy, each star a sun like ours, and many of them surrounded by planets. In 1995, the Hubble Space Telescope captured its first deep-field image: it showed us that there are hundreds of billions of galaxies in our known universe, huge collections of stars scattered across space.

Let’s take the International Astronomical Union’s definition of space as everything that exists in the universe except our planet and our atmosphere. Ask the question “who owns the space?” » seems laughable. Pride on a whole new level. The idea that we could lay claim to the rest of the universe is beyond vanity. It’s as if a group of atoms in my little toe became sentient and declared that they now own my entire body.

A few years ago, I posited that space exploration could be divided into three distinct eras. The first was confrontation. It was World War II that fueled our first forays into the abyss, as it proved to be an effective way to launch munitions further afield. The space race was born out of military competition – with the aim of establishing superiority. The second era brought collaboration. The creation of the European Space Agency in 1975 and this symbolic docking between Soviet and American space vehicles symbolized what humanity could achieve collectively. But we are now at the dawn of a third era: that of commercialization. Space exploration is no longer just the preserve of nations, but also of billionaires, private companies and start-ups that promise vacations in orbit.

Of course, the space industry has been commercial for decades – many communications satellites, Earth observation systems, and some launch vehicles are privately financed and operated. But what’s changing is that humans themselves are now part of the business plan, as we move from exploration to eventual exploitation. Private space stations, space tourism, moon and asteroid mining: this is the new frontier. The question of property therefore suddenly takes on a legal, ethical and economic urgency.

On a legal level, the foundations of space management have been laid for a long time. In the late 1950s and early 1960s, as rockets first entered Earth’s atmosphere, the United Nations was drafting agreements to govern activities beyond our planet. The Outer Space Treaty of 1967 set out remarkably idealistic principles: “The exploration and use of outer space, including the Moon and other celestial bodies, shall be carried out for the benefit and in the interest of all countries, regardless of their degree of economic or scientific development, and shall be the competence of all mankind.” » I would rephrase it to humanity, but I like the sentiment.

It’s a beautiful vision, but potentially increasingly fragile. As technology advances, these noble principles will come face to face with economic reality. When a commercial company discovers a valuable mineral deposit on the Moon or an asteroid, who benefits?

I would argue that commercialization is necessary – space must be made profitable, because without profit humanity will remain “Earthbound” for centuries. Exploration is expensive and governments cannot afford to foot the bill alone. If helium-3 mining or asteroid capture helps fund missions that expand our knowledge, our capabilities, and improve the management of our planet, that could be a good thing. But commercialization must be accompanied by fairness and transparency. Otherwise, we risk repeating the mistakes of our past, but on a truly cosmic scale.

The comparison I often like to make is with the East India Company: a private British company that became so powerful that it could shape the politics of nations and sometimes had an army twice the size of Britain’s. It started as a business; it ended in domination. Could a similar dynamic develop locally in our solar system, where a handful of tech giants and billionaires control access to orbit, communications and, ultimately, extraterrestrial resources? A monopoly in space would be dangerous for humanity. The challenge is to encourage innovation and investment without ceding ownership of the cosmos to a few individuals or organizations.

The Moon is a fascinating case study. For scientists, it serves as a natural laboratory: a place to study planetary history and test new technologies. But it is also an attractive commercial target. There is water ice at its poles, which can be split into hydrogen and oxygen to make rocket fuel. Its gravity is only one-sixth that of Earth, making it a solid launch base for deeper space exploration. And some have suggested mining the lunar surface for helium-3, a potential fuel for future fusion reactors. The possibilities are tempting. But who decides how the Moon’s resources should be used, and by whom?

The Outer Space Treaty prohibits national appropriation, but it does not explicitly prohibit private companies from extracting resources. This ambiguity has prompted countries like the United States and Luxembourg to pass their own space mining laws, granting rights to their domestic companies. Yet if each nation sets its own rules, could the result be chaos comparable to the early Wild West – or even conflict? Space, by its nature, requires global regulation.

This is why I think we must revive the spirit of the first treaties, not only in words but also in deeds. Space should be seen as a shared domain, akin to the high seas or, perhaps more aptly, Antarctica. Antarctica doesn’t belong to anyone. It is protected for peaceful research under an international agreement. This has not stopped certain countries from taking an interest in its minerals, but the principle remains: collective management. Space warrants the same approach. How we behave in the Third Space Age will define not only the future of exploration, but also the type of species we are. Will we take our old rivalries and greed to the stars, or will we finally learn to act as one planet, united by curiosity and care?

As always, I am hopeful. I trust the new generation to do a better job, and space has a way of putting things into perspective. When astronauts look at Earth from orbit, they describe a feeling of awe, known as the “overview effect.” They see our planet as it is, fragile and shared. Perhaps if we can maintain this view, even as we venture further, we might be able to reach for the stars in a way that benefits everyone.

Dame Dr Maggie Aderin-Pocock will deliver the Royal Institution Christmas Lectures 2025.

Further reading

Orbital by Samantha Harvey (Jonathan Cape, £9.99)

Who owns the Moon? by AC Grayling (Oneworld, £10.99)

A City on Mars by Dr Kelly Weinersmith and Zach Weinersmith (Penguin, £11.69)