Australia’s burgeoning satellite industry faces a looming crisis: a shortage of launch facilities to put its technology into orbit. If left unaddressed, this crisis will add cost and delay to realising Australia’s plans for space.

The Government, universities and businesses are identifying more ways to use satellites for national security, research and economic growth, but none of these services can be accessed until the satellites are orbiting. Therefore, launch facilities are vital. This should be obvious, but the Australian space industry mostly focuses on developing smart satellite payloads.

Instead, it needs to prioritise building a space port—an essential piece of infrastructure that would enable our much-heralded revolution in space technology.

Globally, space innovation is considered a key driver of the fourth industrial revolution. Satellite applications boost productivity and efficiency across many sectors including agriculture, mining, telecommunications, climate and meteorology, as well as defence and location-based services.

In Australia too, our economy, security and civic life are already irreversibly dependent on satellites, and over the past 15 years our space industry has undergone rapid evolution and commercialisation in Low Earth Orbit (LEO) applications. But there is still a critical absence of the permanent infrastructure needed to launch LEO satellites.

Australia currently uses overseas launch capabilities, but reliance on other nations’ launch schedules and availability can lead to costly delays. On top of that, we’re now in a time of increased demand and rapidly changing strategic risk, so it’s even more urgent that we end our dependence on others.

There are launch facilities in the United States, Japan, India, China, Europe and South America, and the demand for these is expected to exceed supply by 3:1 over the next 10 years. And with the global strategic balance under stress, access to these launch sites can be quickly cut. For instance, Russia’s invasion of Ukraine cut access to launch facilities in Kazakhstan—a reduction of 15-20% in large payload launch facilities available to the Western world.

The war has also demonstrated that the space domain is the first to be attacked in modern conflicts; Russia disrupted or destroyed Ukraine’s global positioning systems (GPS), essential communications and satellites prior to invasion. Satellites may also become unavailable due to direct military action, obsolescence, change in the orbital environment or equipment failure. Certain areas may need coverage and not be able to get it.

The lesson is clear: geopolitical instability and war can simultaneously limit access to launch facilities and increase the need for more launches. Australia’s future space operations will need to respond to military action or natural disasters in a flexible, timely manner.

The conflict in Ukraine also showed that a country controlling a key space resource can deny others access to data, affecting the success of launch and space operations, whether combat or humanitarian. To operate without disruption, Australia’s space industry will need to be confident in a continuous supply of data, and a sovereign launch infrastructure can help achieve this.

Things are moving in the right direction but not fast enough. Space capabilities were designated as a sovereign industrial capability priority (SICP) in 2021 by the Morrison government, along with robotics, autonomous systems and artificial intelligence. SICPs have a strong focus on building ‘a robust, resilient and internationally competitive defence industry’, and more broadly to boost critical industry and a technology-focused workforce. But a detailed plan for space as a SICP is yet to be released. The Albanese government must address this.

For an Australian sovereign industrial capability for space to deliver any practical economic or security outcome, it’s vital to understand that the space SICP needs to be about more than developing satellites. What counts is the end-to-end space value chain: every aspect of the industry contributing to production, operation, supply and enablement activities.

If Australia develops its own space launch capability, we can know when, where and how to make the most of our satellites, benefiting our economy, security and society. Australia would have the flexibility and resilience to ensure continuity of space-based data. We could replace unserviceable satellites and launch new satellites without waiting for access to facilities overseas.

Space Centre Australia is one such company building strategic launch infrastructure capabilities, with a $750 million project in development in Far North Queensland. Having started with internal funding, the project is now collaborating with the federal and Queensland governments. First launches are anticipated after 2026.

Last year the project achieved significant milestones. Negotiating began on Indigenous land use agreements, environmental analysis was undertaken and development approvals were received. Progress was made on site design, the number of staff increased and the initial stages of securing federal government funding were passed.

To achieve Australian sovereignty, we need a domestically owned, globally competitive strategic launch infrastructure that prioritises Australian interests. Addressing this need is an essential first step in realising Australia’s ambitious space plans, strengthening our defence capability and developing a sophisticated, resilient economy.

The formation of the US Space Force has raised inevitable questions about its purpose and role and about how it will fit in with broader US space policy and activities in the civil and commercial space sectors. It’s an issue that Australia’s defence policy community, and our growing commercial space sector, need to keep on top of.

The space force sits within the US Department of the Air Force in the same way as the US Marine Corps sits within the Department of the Navy. Its role is to provide ‘freedom of operation for the United States in, from and to space; and prompt and sustained space operations’ and its duties are to ‘protect the interests of the United States in space; deter aggression in, from, and to space; and conduct space operations.

That’s a broad remit with lots of loose language. And, as Douglas Adams notes in The hitchhikers guide to the galaxy, ‘Space is big. Really big’, so there’s ample room to grow the branch’s mission and develop new capability in coming years. John Klein argues that it will take time for the space force to develop its a unique service culture with which to shape innovation in operational thinking. That’s essential for the force’s capability requirements and force structure.

Its short-term focus will be in the near-earth region between low-earth orbit, starting at around 160 kilometres, and geosynchronous orbit, extending out to 36,500 kilometres.

To use a maritime analogy, we can think of this region as the ‘brown water’ battlespace. It’s the region most directly relevant to terrestrial military operations, because it’s where the space capabilities of the US and its allies, as well as those of China and Russia, are located. If a major-power war eventuates, the first shots are likely to be fired in this region to gain space superiority.

Human activity is set to extend well beyond this region out to cislunar space, encompassing the region between earth and the moon , the lunar surface and the region around the moon. Some analysts contend that the space force needs to focus on this ‘blue water’ region. That argument builds on a policy paper released by US Air Force Space Command in 2019, which looked out to 2060 and considered an American military presence on the lunar surface and in cislunar space.

These competing visions of future space activity have fostered an interesting debate in Washington space policy circles. One school emphasises a focused ‘warfighting domain’ approach in the brown water to respond to the immediate challenge posed by Chinese and Russian anti-satellite weapons. The other camp espouses a more expansive blue-water vision that focuses on preventing Chinese dominance of a 21st-century space economy centered on the moon and its environs.

The brown-water approach give prominence to space resilience and deterrence. That means the US and its allies need space domain awareness through ground-based and space-based surveillance networks, but also an ability to respond to threats in space and ensure responsive space access.

Australia is well positioned to play a critical part in such operations. It already has a vital role in ground-based space surveillance with its Five Eyes intelligence-sharing partners (the US, Britain, Canada and New Zealand) and with Germany and France through the 2014 Combined Space Operations Initiative. Our commercial space sector is vibrant and growing and is poised to offer a sovereign space launch capability from the Northern Territory and South Australia. Numerous local space startups are developing small satellites and cubesats.

The blue-water vision for the US Space Force is much grander. It’s built on the prospect that both the US and China will have a sustained presence on and around the moon in coming decades, and that they’ll compete for resources and access to strategically important locations in space.

US President Donald Trump’s executive order on the recovery and use of space resources will strengthen the case of the blue-water advocates, as will NASA’s recently declared ‘Artemis Accords’ on regulatory arrangements for using space resources on and around the moon. The executive order, released in April, says, ‘[I]t shall be the policy of the United States to encourage international support for the public and private recovery and use of resources in outer space, consistent with applicable law.’

The order doesn’t see space as a global commons, which implies that the US is committed to supporting utilisation of space resources. The Artemis Accords make clear that any such use will be consistent with the key articles in the 1967 Outer Space Treaty. That sets up an interesting legal conundrum: how does one extract and control space resources without claiming ownership of the territory upon which they’re found? That conundrum builds on a policy direction originally initiated by the Obama administration’s 2015 Space Resources Act.

China’s plans for the moon remain unclear, but strong hints have emerged that it will seek to send it own astronauts, or taikonauts, to the lunar surface in the 2030s, if not before. Namrata Goswami and Peter Garretson both suggest a future of intensifying US–China competition on and around the moon. The blue-water vision for the US Space Force would align neatly with the Trump administration’s decision on space resource utilisation and ensure the US can counter any Chinese move to dominate the high ground of lunar orbit.

A US commercial space start-up, Rhea Space Activity, recently won a Defense Department contract to provide lunar intelligence gathering, or ‘lunint’, which would involve detecting and tracking a foreign state’s space activities in lunar orbit and on the moon’s surface. Interestingly, Rhea is supported by Saber Astronautics, which has offices in the US and Australia. The same types of capabilities that could allow Australia to contribute to burden-sharing in orbit with the US in the brown-water environment can also play a role in cislunar space.

Australia’s Defence Department is focused, rightly, on developing sovereign space capabilities for the defence force in satellite communications and space-based reconnaissance.

But Australia’s commercial space sector offers much more potential to support the US military in space, whether in the brown water or far out in the deep blue.

One theme considered at ASPI’s recent annual Building Australia’s Strategy for Space conference was the growing importance of space law as space becomes more contested, congested and competitive. The basis of space law remains the 1967 Outer Space Treaty (OST), but a lot has happened since it was signed. Perhaps it’s time to review and refresh the treaty.

Article IV of the OST states that:

States Parties to the Treaty undertake not to place in orbit around the Earth any objects carrying nuclear weapons or any other kinds of weapons of mass destruction, install such weapons on celestial bodies or station weapons in outer space in any other manner.

The moon and other celestial bodies shall be used … exclusively for peaceful purposes. The establishment of military bases, installations and fortifications, the testing of any type of weapons and the conduct of military manoeuvres on celestial bodies shall be forbidden …

Article IV doesn’t ban the weaponisation of space outright. Nor has there been any other legal agreement that bans such systems, despite ongoing international efforts in recent decades.

US adversaries (including China and Russia) are developing a suite of sophisticated counter-space capabilities, including direct ascent and co-orbital ‘hard kill’ and ‘soft kill’ systems (see here and here). The US and its allies must respond seriously to these challenges and protect their critical space-based infrastructure. A ‘space Pearl Harbor’ could quickly remove the traditional information-based war-fighting advantage of Western liberal democracies, leaving the US and its partners deaf, dumb and blind at the outset of a conflict.

Part of the solution is to bolster space deterrence, to dissuade the use of counter-space capabilities by adversaries. The US and its allies, including Australia, need to work together to achieve that objective.

Strengthening the 1967 OST’s provision on space weapons is also a must, but it will be difficult to get other major space powers such as China and Russia to agree to new legal constraints on capabilities that they’re already developing and testing.

It will also be difficult to get agreement on what a space weapon is and what constitutes a counter-space attack. Earth-based soft-kill systems—such as cyberattacks that could create scalable, reversible effects—offer deniability to the aggressor.

Article IV bans the militarisation of the moon and other celestial bodies by states, but it has a weakness: it allows ‘use of military personnel for scientific research or for other peaceful purposes’ and includes a vague statement that ‘use of any equipment or facility necessary for peaceful exploration of the moon and other celestial bodies shall also not be prohibited’.

Defining ‘peaceful purpose’ activities isn’t easy either, particularly when states such as China have space programs run by the military. As China looks towards crewed lunar missions by the 2030s, there’s a risk that it may exploit ‘grey zone’ phenomena on the high frontier in support of its national strategic ambitions, which include contesting the US advantage in space.

The OST was signed at a time when commercial space actors simply didn’t exist. However, Article VI implies the possibility of such actors:

States Parties to the Treaty shall bear international responsibility for national activities in outer space, including the moon and other celestial bodies, whether such activities are carried on by government agencies or by non-governmental entities, and for assuring that national activities are carried out in conformity with the provisions set forth in the present Treaty.

Yet that doesn’t address activities by commercial space corporations that are acting alone and independently of national guidance—or at least those that declare that they’re doing so.

For example, the potential resource wealth of the moon and near-Earth asteroids opens up the prospect for private space corporations to make vast profits from those resources. Article II of the OST says, ‘Outer space, including the moon and other celestial bodies, is not subject to national appropriation by claim of sovereignty, by means of use or occupation, or by other means.’ But what about the actions of private corporations, perhaps supported by private security contractors, that seek to safeguard a valuable resource claim? The OST does nothing to regulate the actions of such entities.

The US’s 2015 Space Act created opportunities for future lunar and asteroid mining by US commercial space companies, and US competitors aren’t likely to sit back and passively watch US companies gain an advantage. That implies a challenge to Article II of the OST, because acquiring a resource and then selling it for profit implies ownership.

If Article II is weakened indirectly through commercial activity, competitors may see an opportunity to claim territory on the moon and other celestial bodies. The rationale might be control of a valuable resource or exploitation of high ground in astrostrategic terrain for military advantage. That would undermine the OST at its most fundamental level.

This isn’t a justification for imposing draconian governmental or international regulation on the rapidly growing commercial space sector. Such a step would smother innovation and reduce incentives for commercial space activities, slowing the growth of a future off-Earth space industry. Going back to Space 1.0 is entirely the wrong path.

The OST needs to be updated to address some of the potential risks in a more contested, congested and competitive space domain extending from low-Earth orbit out to cislunar space and beyond. That would make the treaty more relevant to the future Space 2.0 paradigm in which the fastest progress is led by the commercial sector, a significant portion of which is untethered by government direction. In particular, managing the impact of new commercial space actors that will seek access to and profit from space resources should be a high priority if the OST is to remain relevant.

The 1979 Moon Treaty sought to expand on the OST and address some of its shortcomings. It wasn’t ratified by the US, the Russian Federation or China, and so isn’t binding. Alongside an updated OST, a new Moon Treaty that facilitates peaceful commercial activities on the moon and other celestial bodies would be a good step forward. But the updates need to address the shortcomings of both treaties. They should clearly delineate the boundaries between normal commercial activities in what should be a global commons and state or state-owned actors that could compete for national gain. The alternative is a free-for-all on the high frontier, with dangerous risks for major-power competition in a contested space environment.

This is the 18th and final article in our series ‘Australia in Space’ leading up to ASPI’s Building Australia’s Strategy for Space conference, which begins today.

When I was the deputy secretary for strategy in the Defence Department, one of the things on my to-do list which never quite got done was to produce a public defence policy for space. Even back in palaeolithic 2009 it was slightly embarrassing that such a policy statement, classified and unclassified, didn’t exist. So many ADF capabilities relied on communications, IT, sensors and emitters that drew on systems operating in or through space. Indeed, wherever Defence links into Australia’s national infrastructure for logistic support, or engages with government decision-makers, or works with friends and allies, our complete reliance on the enabling effects of space systems is matched only by our utter vulnerability to those systems being damaged.

Why was I unable to produce such a policy statement? Looking back, four factors come to mind. One was the sheer number of players across the Defence tribes who felt they had a dog in the space fight. The department’s largest meeting rooms could be packed out with space stakeholders, typically at middle-level ranks, often individuals with very deep passions about the issues. In space, no one can hear you droning on relentlessly. While there were groups with interests big enough to block forward policy movement, the second problem was that no one section of Defence had enough control of space policy to champion change and spur faster policy development.

Third, notwithstanding the ‘critical enabler’ label that was attached to space, Defence’s senior leaders weren’t really galvanised by the issue. Not in the way they could be galvanised about the really big issues like platform acquisition or occupying floor space in the Russell headquarters. Space was ‘niche’—just like cyber used to be. And that was just inside Defence. Beyond the department was, well let’s call it Dimension X: an uncharted world of departments and agencies whose staff didn’t have security clearances (gasp!), bureaucratic decision-makers who were focused on economics (shock!) and politicians who didn’t think space was important (beam me up!). Policy phasers were set to stunned-mullet and had been locked like that for the better part of a generation.

Reading the excellent contributions to this series on Australia and space policy, one is entitled to hope that, in 2018, there are solid grounds to say things have changed for the better. By mid-year we’ll have an Australian Space Agency, which should aim to be the convening point for a national discussion on space policy, as well as a national champion and reasoned advocate for investment in and focus on space. There’s an emerging private-sector space industry and a range of affordable and scalable technology options that lower barriers to entering into space-related business.

Our contributors point to a confluence of technology developments, wrapping together the internet of things, artificial intelligence, autonomous systems and robotics into a slightly scary but very promising field. The good news for Australian entrepreneurs is that it’s smarts rather than scale which can get you into this business. Finally, there are one or two green shoots of hope that our major political parties are seeing the promise of more investment in space. There’s bipartisan support for the new space agency and for sustaining a meaningful defence industry base which will clearly be a central player in space technologies and systems.

A number of contributors, most prominently ASPI’s own Malcolm Davis, point to the reality that space is increasingly contested. In any substantial future conflict between major powers, it’s clear that space and cyber will be two of the earliest theatres of skirmishing as opponents look to disable each other’s military and national decision-making capabilities. In fact, cyber battles will probably occur over access to space and will use space-based communication systems themselves.

So a new factor driving national approaches to space is that all countries are faced with an increasingly stark choice to ‘use or lose’ their interests in space. Australia is acquiring at immense cost a fifth-generation–enabled defence force which, if we’re ever to fight with it, must have assured access to systems that rely on space. The US alliance provides fantastic access to key space systems; however, it could benefit from increased resilience from allied systems designed with it in mind. So a defence policy for space must set out how we’ll ensure that our forces have access to key systems inside our alliance with the United States and alone if necessary. (To give Defence credit, it produced a space policy in 2016—that’s one small step for planning.)

It could all still go wrong, though. First, the industry in Australia is incredibly small. Around 11,000 people are working in space-related businesses. To give you a sense of scale, the Department of Jobs and Small Business reports that 11,300 people worked as service station attendants in December 2017. Slightly more ominously, the same report recorded 11,900 motor vehicle parts and accessory fitters. By analogy it may be the case that our space industry sector is so far below critical mass that it might go the same way as motor vehicle assembly unless a transformative business development can break the industry out of a decaying orbit. Speculation that the Australian space industry will grow by three times its current size by 2030 to be worth $12 billion is just guesswork, although this growth rate doesn’t assume hyper-velocity expansion anytime soon.

I’m also not sure that Defence really has gotten over its tribalism or complacency about space, although I’d be happy to be corrected on this point. It’s one thing to talk the talk about a fifth-generation ADF, but quite another to galvanise delivering the enabling systems that are so space dependent. We’re still too focused on platforms, which anyone can see when discussions turn to the number of Joint Strike Fighters or submarines Australia will acquire.

Critically, while many advocates of Australia acquiring space capabilities exist, along with advocates of an Australian space industry, there are very few who are suggesting that they might trade off other spending plans they have to actually acquire real systems with real money in real budgets.

More broadly, Australians have grown used to living in a just-in-time world for energy supply, logistics, power, heating and cooling to the point that it’s only when the lights go out in Tasmania or South Australia that people realise there’s a complex but imminently vulnerable interconnected system of supply and distribution that sets the rhythm of our lives. And so much of this depends on access to and control of space. While our military forces think about the implications of operating in a ‘day without space’, our politicians should ponder what a day or two without space would do for the quality of social harmony in Australia. If satellites go down and there are no others that can provide redundancy and resilience, how long would it take to turn our urban centres into end-of-days theme parks?

But let’s end on a positive note. The arrival of the Australian Space Agency is a very welcome development. Business is buzzing with the potential for expanding space-related work. Defence has never been better equipped with space-enabled platforms and technology. A gaggle of new technologies—from swarming drones to artificially intelligent autonomous systems to dairy herds linked to the internet of things—all push Australia closer to a new and different type of space age. The cost of entry to space has never been lower. More than ever there is promise and excitement in the space business and every opportunity for smart Australians to shape this future.

This is the 11th in our series ‘Australia in Space’ leading up to ASPI’s Building Australia’s Strategy for Space conference in June.

The ability to make intelligent decisions is supported by access to timely, reliable, superior information. Access to superior information gives businesses a competitive advantage and provides a strategic advantage to defence.

Space is an increasingly important source of information. Satellite systems support communication; positioning, navigation and timing (PNT); and earth observation. This space-derived data is then combined with other data sources to deliver value across a wide range of industries.

How do we ensure that Australia has access to the data that best serves our needs and gives our companies and defence the strategic advantage we desire?

This is a complex question and one that the new Australian Space Agency has been tasked to answer. Any response must span all three satellite applications and consider the needs of government, industry and defence.

Our ability to deliver and use superior space-derived information is related to our infrastructure and skills. It relies on our ability to develop a user community that understands the sector’s needs, understands the strengths and weaknesses of the various solutions, can provide the requirements for new solutions, and can integrate new solutions into their existing operations.

The most mature commercial market for satellite data is communication. Since the government first invested in infrastructure back in 1979 through AUSSAT Pty Ltd, the sector has grown to more than 21 companies active in commercial satellite communications (Communications Alliance). Optus Satellites now has more than 30 years’ experience in commercial satellite operations and employs more than 150 people in space-related roles. It currently operates five Optus satellites, two NBN satellites and 94 ground stations, hosts a payload for defence and has supported more than 90 international missions.

The future needs of the sector are being supported through groups like the Institute for Telecommunications Research and the development of optical communication systems at the ANU, UNSW and the University of Western Australia.

We’re also seeing the emergence of companies using small satellites. Myriota is deploying a network of low-power microtransmitters that transmit a narrow bandwidth signal to a constellation of small satellites in low-earth orbit. Optus and Myriota both use satellite communications platforms, but they serve different and complimentary markets. With high power and high bandwidth, Optus can deliver persistent video and internet services, whereas Myriota provides a low-cost solution to assist users to monitor distributed assets.

In the 2018–19 Budget, the government announced a $260 million investment in SBAS (Satellite-based Augmentation System), PNT infrastructure and Digital Earth Australia. The investment in SBAS and PNT will improve location accuracy in Australia from 10 metres to 10 centimetres, laying the foundation for the next generation of autonomous systems for agriculture, mining, aviation and more.

Australia doesn’t have any earth observation satellites. We access low- to medium-resolution imagery from satellites such as the ESA Copernicus and USGS Landsat constellations through intergovernmental agreements. The investment in Digital Earth Australia makes this archive available to government departments and industry free of charge, providing users with 10-metre-resolution optical imagery every five days.

Australia accesses high-resolution imagery through commercial arrangements with international providers. This gives us access to high-resolution optical and radar satellites from multiple countries on an as-needed basis.

However, Australia is the only OECD country, and one of few countries in the Asia–Pacific, that doesn’t have direct receiving stations for these systems. Without the ability to downlink data in Australia, we receive imagery six to 24 hours after submitting a request (compared to 20 to 40 minutes with direct downlink), pay higher costs, and can’t directly task the satellites.

Australia has access to broadband communication, and with the investment in SBAS we’ll have high-precision positioning. But due to a lack of infrastructure, our access to high-resolution earth observation data is slower and more expensive than other countries’ and we can’t directly task these satellites. If it was entirely a commercial decision, industry would invest in the infrastructure, but as with communications and positioning infrastructure, the benefactors are government, defence and commercial companies across multiple industries.

There are some exciting examples of how these systems are being used. The Australian Maritime Safety Authority uses Satellite AIS (Automatic Identification System) to track ships. exactEarth’s recent move from a constellation of small low-earth satellites to hosted payloads on more than 60 Iridium Next communications satellites will make it possible to track ships with a latency of less than one minute. Many Australian companies, including Geospatial Intelligence Pty Ltd, integrate AIS data, high-resolution radar and optical imagery, and other data sources to develop products and services for customers that need high-quality information quickly. With access to a ground station in Australia, this could include search and rescue.

This is an exciting time for the space industry as miniaturisation and improved computer processing are driving down the size, weight and cost of satellites and opening new possibilities for constellations of small satellites. However, the laws of physics still hold. The performance of these satellites is limited by the size of the instrument, the available power, the on-board storage, and the ability to launch and replenish constellations. Small satellites won’t replace large satellites, just as satellites won’t replace aerial observations, but a range of options are emerging that deliver greater capability and efficiency for users.

The real power is in the integration of multiple sources of information. Australia has an opportunity to become an intelligent customer and a sophisticated user. We can develop our own systems where the market doesn’t meet our needs and draw on all the available technologies to deliver a competitive advantage for businesses, and a strategic advantage to defence.