We are using Earth's atmosphere as a crematorium for tens of thousands of satellites.
Humanity has long looked upward with wonder, but the sky above is now being claimed, carved, and commercialized at a pace that outstrips the wisdom of those tasked with governing it. This month, the FCC approved Reflect Orbital's Earendil-1 — a satellite designed to bounce sunlight onto Earth in five-kilometer pools — despite acknowledged risks to pilots, astronomers, wildlife, and human health, with the agency declining responsibility for any harm beyond radio spectrum. The decision is less an isolated ruling than a symptom: low-Earth orbit has become a new frontier of audacious commercial ambition, and the institutions meant to steward the commons above us were never built for what is now being proposed.
- The FCC approved a solar mirror satellite knowing it could blind pilots, damage telescopes, and disrupt circadian rhythms across entire regions — then declared those consequences outside its mandate.
- SpaceX's 11,000 Starlink satellites have effectively colonized low-Earth orbit, forcing NASA to reroute missions and triggering a near-collision with a Chinese satellite in late 2025.
- SpaceX has since filed to launch one million more satellites for AI data centers — forty times all satellites ever launched — and the FCC gave scientists just thirty days to assess the impacts with incomplete data.
- Four rival companies have filed copycat proposals for tens of thousands of satellites each, including solar energy beams that could alter atmospheric chemistry, kill wildlife, and require permanent aviation no-fly zones.
- The agency built to regulate radio broadcasts is now being asked to evaluate orbital safety and atmospheric science, while the office better suited for the task has been gutted by budget cuts.
- Each satellite that burns up in the atmosphere deposits metal and disrupts ozone chemistry — and no legal framework yet determines who is responsible when debris causes damage or death on the ground.
The Federal Communications Commission has approved a test satellite from Reflect Orbital that will bounce sunlight back to Earth in a five-kilometer beam, reorienting itself every four minutes to hold the light steady. The company, which calls the satellite Earendil-1, envisions more than 50,000 such mirrors in orbit by 2035, serving agriculture, emergency response, and industry. The FCC issued its approval despite opposition from astronomers and the public, and despite acknowledging documented risks — then argued those risks fell outside its regulatory mandate.
The hazards are real and wide-ranging. Pilots and drivers could be disoriented by mirror flashes. Artificial light could scramble the circadian rhythms of humans, animals, and plants across entire regions. Sensitive telescope detectors could be overwhelmed or destroyed. The FCC's response was essentially jurisdictional: it regulates radio spectrum, not the physical consequences of orbiting hardware.
This ruling reflects a deeper crisis. SpaceX has effectively occupied low-Earth orbit with nearly 11,000 Starlink satellites, forcing NASA to adjust Artemis launch windows and prompting a dangerous near-miss with a Chinese satellite in December 2025. In February, SpaceX filed to add one million more satellites for orbital AI data centers — forty times the total ever launched in human history — and the FCC approved the filing at speed, leaving scientists worldwide just thirty days to model effects from incomplete data. Four other companies have since filed similar proposals.
The FCC was created to manage radio broadcasts. It is now being asked to evaluate orbital collision risk, atmospheric chemistry, and the long-term viability of the sky itself — domains where it lacks both expertise and authority. The logical alternative, the U.S. Office of Space Commerce, has been weakened by budget cuts. Meanwhile, proposals for space-based solar energy beams capable of altering atmospheric chemistry and requiring permanent aviation no-fly zones are already in the pipeline.
Many of these ventures market themselves as green technology, but the environmental calculus is rarely honest. Building, launching, and eventually burning up tens of thousands of satellites carries enormous costs. Debris re-entering the atmosphere deposits metals and degrades ozone. Who bears legal responsibility for resulting damage remains unresolved. Low-Earth orbit is finite, and the collision risk grows with every new object placed there. The question is no longer whether satellites are useful — they are — but whether the current pace of unchecked expansion can be sustained before it destroys the very orbital environment it depends on.
The Federal Communications Commission gave its blessing this month to a company called Reflect Orbital to test a satellite that will bounce sunlight back to Earth on demand. The test satellite, named Earendil-1, will create a pool of reflected light five kilometers wide and will need to reorient itself every four minutes to maintain the beam. The company's ambitions extend far beyond a single test: it plans to deploy more than 50,000 of these satellites by 2035 for use in agriculture, emergency response, and industrial applications. The approval came despite vocal opposition from astronomers, members of the public, and documented safety concerns that the FCC itself acknowledged but chose not to treat as its responsibility.
The risks are substantial and varied. Pilots and drivers could be blinded or disoriented by the flashes that occur each time a mirror repoints. The continuous artificial light could disrupt the circadian rhythms of plants, animals, and humans across entire regions. Research telescopes with sensitive detectors could be overwhelmed and damaged. Star-tracking cameras on satellites in lower orbits could be fried. When the FCC issued its approval, it sidestepped these objections by arguing that the health and safety impacts fell outside its mandate—the agency, it said, exists to regulate radiofrequency spectrum, not the physical effects of orbiting hardware.
This decision is emblematic of a larger problem: the space above Earth has become a frontier of increasingly audacious commercial schemes, and the regulatory apparatus was never built to handle what is being proposed. The FCC recently published a document titled "Spectrum Abundance for Weird Space Stuff," a phrase that captures the surreal nature of what American companies are now filing to launch. Beyond solar mirrors, the proposals include orbital AI data centers, space hotels, artificial meteor showers, space burials, solar-powered infrared beams, and various other ventures that read like speculative fiction made bureaucratic.
The root of the problem is that SpaceX has effectively occupied low-Earth orbit. Nearly 11,000 Starlink satellites already circle the planet, and any company wanting to launch into that same orbital zone must either coordinate carefully with SpaceX or risk collision. A near-miss between a Starlink satellite and a Chinese satellite in December 2025 illustrated the danger. Even NASA's Artemis missions had to adjust their launch windows to avoid the Starlink constellation. The 1967 Outer Space Treaty, signed by more than 100 countries including the United States, China, and Russia, explicitly states that outer space cannot be claimed through occupation. Whether SpaceX's dominance of low-Earth orbit violates that principle is being tested in real time.
The situation has accelerated dramatically. In February, SpaceX filed with the FCC to launch one million additional satellites for AI data centers—forty times more satellites than have ever been launched in human history, for a single constellation of untested technology. The FCC approved the filing at what observers describe as breakneck speed, giving scientists worldwide only thirty days to model the potential effects with incomplete information about the satellites' mass, size, composition, and orbital distribution. Four other companies have since filed copycat proposals for tens of thousands of satellites each. SpaceX has also proposed another 100,000 satellites to interface with the million AI data centers it already requested.
The FCC was originally created to regulate radio broadcasts. It is now being asked to evaluate orbital safety, atmospheric impacts, and effects on astronomy—domains where it may lack the necessary expertise. The logical solution would be to transfer some of this evaluation to the U.S. Office of Space Commerce, but recent budget cuts have made that infeasible. As a result, the FCC will soon face a cascade of satellite proposals, including several clusters designed to harvest solar energy from space and beam it to Earth through high-energy beams. These beams could alter atmospheric chemistry and kill wildlife. They would also require no-fly zones around receiving stations, creating additional constraints on aviation and on the lower-altitude orbits that SpaceX has already requested for its expanded Starlink fleet.
Many of these projects market themselves as solutions to environmental problems—clean energy, renewable power, sustainable technology. But they function largely as greenwashing. Solar energy generated in space is only clean if you ignore the environmental cost of building, launching, maintaining, and eventually burning up tens of thousands of satellites in Earth's atmosphere. The daily operations of these systems will have enormous environmental consequences. When debris is removed from orbit to prevent Kessler Syndrome—a runaway chain reaction of collisions—it falls into the atmosphere, where it deposits metal and potentially impacts Earth's surface. It remains unclear who bears responsibility for any resulting damage or deaths.
Low-Earth orbit is not infinite. Satellites complete an orbit every ninety minutes, which means the collision potential between objects is high. The satellites and rocket bodies that have burned up in recent years have already measurably altered Earth's atmosphere. Preliminary studies suggest that using the atmosphere as a crematorium for tens of thousands of satellites will have devastating effects on ozone and other atmospheric chemistry. Astronomy faces threats from space mirrors, solar sails, and the diffuse sky brightening caused by orbital debris. The challenge ahead is not whether satellites should exist—they provide genuine benefits to science and society—but whether the current trajectory of unfettered growth can be sustained. The engineering question is whether companies can do more with less, or whether the exploitation of orbital space will eventually undermine the very operations that depend on it.
Citações Notáveis
The FCC said that the risks of harm raised regarding Reflect Orbital's solar reflector are unrelated to the Commission's role in authorizing use of radiofrequency spectrum.— Federal Communications Commission
Outer space is not subject to national appropriation by claim of sovereignty, by means of use or occupation.— 1967 Outer Space Treaty
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why did the FCC approve this if the risks are so well documented?
The FCC argued that the risks—pilot safety, telescope damage, circadian disruption—fall outside its jurisdiction. It regulates spectrum, not physical effects. It's a convenient boundary.
But someone has to be responsible for those risks, right?
In theory, yes. In practice, there's a gap. The FCC lacks expertise in orbital safety. The Office of Space Commerce could handle it, but budget cuts make that impossible. So the risks get acknowledged and then set aside.
How did we get to a point where one company controls low-Earth orbit?
SpaceX launched 11,000 satellites first. Now anyone else who wants to operate there has to coordinate with them or risk collision. It's not illegal under current law, but it does seem to violate the spirit of the 1967 Outer Space Treaty.
And other companies are just copying the model?
Exactly. SpaceX filed for a million more satellites. Four other companies filed for tens of thousands each. The FCC approved SpaceX in thirty days, giving scientists almost no time to model the effects.
What happens to all this debris?
It falls into the atmosphere and burns up, depositing metal and altering atmospheric chemistry. We're using Earth's atmosphere as a crematorium. No one knows who pays if debris hits someone or damages property.
Is there a way to fix this?
The real challenge is doing more with less—getting the same benefits from fewer satellites. But that requires restraint, and right now there's no incentive for it.