I’ve always wanted to explore deep space. Become an astronaut and voyage to other planets, solar systems, galaxies, wherever space takes me. What enthralled me about space is the unknown; simply, there’s so much to still understand about the universe. I strive to become a pioneer and make discoveries that can change, not just the world, but everything. To feel like the graduate student who discovered the positron, an anti-electron.
This past April Fool’s Day, I watched NASA’s Artemis II launch: the first crewed mission back to the moon since Apollo 17 in 1972. I saw it on the big screen in the lobby of the Green Building with my club, Rocket Team. Though, I didn’t get to sit with them because I joined late. I had taken a nap beforehand. Instead, I sat on the couches near the windows. With ten minutes left before launch, I kept pondering to myself how many calculations and simulations were needed to map the trajectory of the Orion spacecraft, the capsule carrying the astronauts, near perfectly for the entirety of the mission. Then, launch came rather quickly than I thought. My face just glistened seeing the next steps for space exploration. Seeing that I could become one of them.
But something about the launch came to mind and other rocket launches. How were they able to avoid all the space debris, that garbage flying in low-earth orbit? I learnt that all that junk up there is travelling upwards of 18,800 miles per hour, and they come in various sizes, from the sizes of sand particles to the sizes of school buses. If even one of these debris’ crashes into an object, it will lead to a catastrophe, only leading to more space junk.
I’m ecstatic that the energy and passion for space exploration is growing (NASA’s future planned Artemis III and IV missions, private companies’ mission to develop reusable rockets, and robotics for traversing or research), but the accumulation of space debris is only going to inhibit these endeavors.
Earlier, I had dreams, possibly lucid, of finding myself engulfed in a black hole, nothing made sense, and that’s what I enjoyed about it. I felt myself free falling and seeing the past and the future at the same time. When I woke up, I often found myself sad that I never got to finish my dreams, never got to truly explore and understand what else was there.
Every year, I see more and more satellites constantly being launched into low-earth orbit. Yet, I don’t see as much junk actively being removed to counteract the consequences of space debris. Yes, there are policies in place, both established by the government and private corporations, to deorbit this space clutter. But, to me, they don’t seem as enforced as they should.
SpaceX is actively launching their Starlink satellites to provide high-speed internet service to basically anywhere on the planet. I find it a great commodity for those traveling often or live in rural, off-grid areas. Currently, there are more than 10,000 Starlink satellites in orbit, and they plan to have 42,000. I do like that space technology is benefitting people back here on Earth, but there’s far too many objects in space already.
Similarly, I notice other companies are launching their own satellites for other purposes. What happens to satellites they no longer need? The space debris issue is only going to exponentiate in consequences. One satellite crashing into will crash into another and have a domino effect: Kessler’s Syndrome (space pollution becoming so high that collisions between objects cascade).
Its effects are not only detrimental to space exploration efforts, but also to home back on Earth. NASA has stated that an average of one piece of cataloged debris has fallen back down to Earth each day for the past 50 years. So far, no significant incidents have been reported to property or to people. However, that could change given the increase in satellites: people being hospitalized, people losing their homes, people losing hope.
I’m worried that if serious damage arises from space junk later down the line, the passion for space exploration is going to vanish. I’d hate to see that happen. Robbing me of what I yearn to see.
Back in the day, the United Nations negotiated, drafted, and signed a treaty with more than 100 countries on January 27, 1967, for the use of outer space known as The Outer Space Treaty. It was in response to the development of intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBM) and the arms race. I can’t imagine how space would look like nowadays if this treaty weren’t signed as early as it was.
Part of what this treaty is meant to enforce is that any exploration and use of space is to benefit and fulfill the interests of all countries, that space is the province of humankind, no one country can claim sovereignty of space, and no weapons of mass destruction (nuclear included) shall orbit Earth. What I found most important about this treaty is that nations should avoid harmful contamination of space. All points I resonate with.
But, I just found out online that the United States signed an executive order to develop a multi-layer planned missile defense system called the Golden Dome. Contrasting some of the efforts of the treaty. Its intent is to detect and destroy ballistic, hypersonic, and cruise missiles either before they launch or when they’re traveling through the deployment of a constellation of thousands of satellites. Critics and politicians have said that it can cost upwards of a trillion dollars.
The main issue I see is that they plan to have thousands of satellites into space, only adding to the issue of space debris. There is a pro to having a defense system: to fend off attacks from other nations. Nonetheless, the more objects there are in orbit, the higher the probability that junk can crash into each other.
I’d despise for the barrier between land and space to become opaque, with only a few leaks to glimpse the other side.
When I go stargazing, I hope to sit under night’s blanket and spot the sparkling stars. But, with an ever-growing count of satellites in orbit, I would see more artificial lights than natural. Thinking that a light is a star when it turns out is just a satellite; the same way I could confuse a plane’s light with a star.
Laying down in that grass and having the stars reflect in my eyes always filled me with a sense of wonder of what’s beyond the wall. Not the wall full of space junk, but the invisible wall separating us from the unknown. I don’t want to lose that sense by having space junk obstruct it.
I see now that there’s too much focus on what could be rather than what is. No one corporation or nation wants to tackle the hassle of removing debris. Only focusing on the short-term rather than the long-term.
Space debris is not only an issue for the endeavors of space exploration, but also to the technology and innovations that arise from it. NASA missions have paved the way to develop technologies that affect us in normal daily life. Pivotal technologies that NASA research has led to include phone cameras, CAT scans, athletic shoes, water purification systems, ear thermometers, home insulation, wireless headsets, memory foam, and much more than I could list.
Space does not only bring the sense of wonder I feel, but it also helps everyone in one shape or another. The accumulation of space junk is going to prevent what space exploration brings. I don’t want to lose that feeling. Nor do I want humanity to lose the benefits of space exploration. I don’t want to miss the void. Nor have others miss a future of blinking lights.