Invisible Forces Overhead – The Solar and Geomagnetic Threat
Space may seem far away, but its risks are far closer to home than we think. The South Atlantic Anomaly (SAA), a weakening region of Earth’s magnetic field over the South Atlantic and parts of South America, now allows increased radiation from the inner Van Allen belts to penetrate to altitudes as low as 200 kilometers. This puts low-orbiting satellites, as well as the International Space Station, at considerable risk of electronic failures and data corruption.
This isn’t theoretical. Satellite instruments are routinely shut down when passing through the SAA to avoid malfunctions. Some speculate that this anomaly could be a precursor to a larger geomagnetic reversal, although such events play out over millennia. What we do know is this: radiation levels are increasing, and they are affecting hardware that powers everything from navigation to climate models.
We’ve seen what can happen when geomagnetic events reach Earth. In 1859, the Carrington Event unleashed a solar storm so powerful that telegraph systems across Europe and North America caught fire. Operators reportedly received electric shocks. The wires themselves, highly conductive and poorly shielded, sparked and melted. Had the same level of geomagnetic surge occurred today, the consequences would not just be fried copper. Entire satellite constellations would be disabled. Communications, defense systems, GPS, banking infrastructure, and the internet itself could be severely impaired or rendered inoperable.
In 1989, a less powerful but still disruptive geomagnetic surge knocked out Quebec’s entire hydroelectric grid in less than two minutes, leaving over 6 million people without power. NASA satellites detected increased drag in low Earth orbit due to atmospheric expansion caused by that storm, affecting satellite orientation and orbit stability.
These are not manmade threats, and our ability to control them is limited. They frame a reality we must acknowledge: space is no longer empty. It is full of assets, systems, and vulnerabilities. We rely on a layer of digital scaffolding in orbit, and that scaffolding is vulnerable to forces we barely understand and cannot predict with precision.
Just because we cannot see the risks above us does not mean they are not real.
The Manmade Mess We Can Fix: Orbital Debris and Space Junk
Unlike solar flares or drifting magnetic fields, the debris in low Earth orbit is our own creation. We have launched over 11,000 satellites into orbit since the dawn of the space age. Many are defunct. Thousands of spent rocket stage parts, fragments from disintegrations, and derelict spacecraft bits now whip around Earth at speeds exceeding 27,000 kilometers per hour.
In 2007, China destroyed one of its own weather satellites, Fengyun-1C, in an anti-satellite test. This one event created over 3,000 pieces of trackable debris, which continue to pose a hazard today. In 2023, the breakup of a Chinese Long March rocket added to this growing collection, putting over 1,000 other objects at risk. The International Space Station has maneuvered multiple times to avoid collisions. These are not distant sci-fi scenarios; they are logged events.
Even a bolt moving at orbital velocity has the destructive force of a grenade. The term “Kessler Syndrome,” coined by NASA scientist Donald Kessler, describes a hypothetical chain reaction of collisions that could render parts of space unusable. We may already be on that trajectory.
The lack of universal accountability only makes matters worse. While space law exists in the form of treaties and guidelines, enforcement mechanisms are weak. Debris liability is vaguely defined, and reporting is voluntary. National space agencies track larger objects, but smaller debris (less than 10 cm in diameter) often go unmonitored, despite their capacity to cause catastrophic damage.
There is no globally coordinated cleanup initiative, no common legal framework, and no shared accountability. Low Earth orbit, like our oceans, is becoming a common area in crisis.
Space Is Not a Landfill – Could LEO Recycling Be the Future?
When images of dead seabirds filled with bottle caps from the Midway Atoll made global headlines, the world began to take the Great Pacific Garbage Patch seriously. That outrage gave rise to initiatives like The Ocean Cleanup, led by Boyan Slat, who devised scalable engineering solutions to collect plastic debris from rivers and gyres.
The question is, can we do the same in space?
The European Space Agency has already contracted a mission with ClearSpace-1, designed to capture and deorbit debris. Private firms like Astroscale are working on docking mechanisms and end-of-life removal systems. These are initial steps against a massive backlog of junk.
Given the presence of rare earth metals, alloys, and other valuable materials in orbit, perhaps recycling in space is a viable future path. Could orbital debris be repurposed in situ? Could it be redirected to a lunar depot for smelting and reuse? The cost of lifting such material out of Earth’s gravity well again would be immense. If a ton of mass costs tens of millions to launch, then a ton already in orbit is not waste—it is stranded capital.
Conceptually, this is no longer far-fetched. NASA and ESA have both conducted feasibility studies. Japan’s JAXA is researching tethered deorbit systems. Commercial players have floated ideas ranging from space nets to magnetically-guided capture mechanisms. Could waste aluminum from spent rocket stages be 3D-printed into new components aboard orbital stations?
Engineering, cost, and regulatory barriers remain. Without a funding mechanism, even the most elegant technical solutions will remain grounded.
Financing the Stewardship of Space – Toward LEO Bonds
In the early 2000s, green bonds were a curiosity. Then Nordic pension funds began allocating capital, guided by principles later laid out by ICMA. These standards brought credibility, accountability, and scale to a once-fragmented market. Blue bonds followed, helping fund oceanic sustainability and the protection of marine ecosystems.
Today, with NASA and NOAA facing severe budget cuts, including a proposed 47 percent reduction in NASA science programs, the case for private capital becomes more urgent. If public agencies cannot finance orbital safety, perhaps institutional investors can.
LEO Bonds (Low Earth Orbit Bonds) would be sustainability-linked instruments focused on:
- Active debris removal
- Space traffic management
- On-orbit infrastructure and shielding
- R&D for recycling technologies
They could be structured as project bonds, revenue-backed securities, or blended finance vehicles with support from multilateral development banks. The critical step is creating a taxonomy and framework that defines what qualifies as sustainable orbital stewardship. ICMA could play a central role in that.
These bonds would appeal to asset owners looking to diversify their sustainability allocations. They could align with SFDR (Sustainable Finance Disclosure Regulation) and Article 9 requirements in the EU, creating a measurable impact investment category focused on planetary infrastructure beyond Earth’s surface.
This is not philanthropy. It is risk mitigation. The loss of a satellite constellation due to a preventable collision could carry geopolitical and financial consequences. It could also cascade into insurance payouts, economic disruptions, and delays to essential services.
Eyes on the Sky, Feet on the Ground
Just because we cannot see the risks above us does not mean they are not real. Our dependence on satellite systems is profound, and it is growing. The stewardship of space is not a national responsibility. It is a global imperative.
The oceans taught us that visibility drives action. In orbit, visibility comes through foresight. We already have the science, the investment tools, and the precedent. Now we need resolve.
As Hannibal said before crossing the Alps:
“Aut inveniam viam aut faciam”
(I shall either find a way or make one.)
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