THE EARLY MORNING HOURS of St. Patrick’s Day 1958, a nervous satellite team waited, “like expectant fathers,” for the continuation of a countdown that had already been thrice canceled. A short hold for electronic problems was followed by a “stretch-out.” Incredibly, the United States’s second satellite (and only the fourth satellite to ever be launched from Earth) was on a traffic hold. Kurt Stehling, head of the launch vehicle division of Project Vanguard at the Naval Research Laboratory, marveled at the “unprecedented event.” He admitted, “that never in [his] earlier life did [he] expect to see the day when one would have to wait until satellite traffic in the sky was cleared for the launching of another orbiter.” Lift off was achieved at 07:15:41, and Vanguard 1, or the “Grapefruit Satellite ”as it was dismissively nicknamed by Nikita Khrushchev, reached its appointed orbit where it remains today as the “oldest manmade satellite still in orbit about the Earth.”

Though the satellite stopped communicating with Earth in 1964, it continues to be tracked visually and is expected to remain in its orbit for another 180 years. On the fiftieth anniversary of the Vanguard 1 launch, space analyst James Oberg suggested that space and robotic technology had advanced enough to contemplate a mission to retrieve the satellite that has outlived “almost all of the human beings who created it.” The launch, operations span, lifespan, and proposed retrieval of the Grapefruit Satellite palpably frames our relatively brief interaction with outer space. On one hand, it underscores the tremendous advancement made in space technologies during the nearly sixty years Vanguard 1 has been on-orbit. On the other hand, it reveals a troubling trend where a spacecraft’s lifespan vastly outlasts its operational capability, leaving inert and inoperative satellites—often much larger than grapefruits—to crowd our precious orbit without providing any benefit.

The ability to physically interact with an on-orbit object has been stymied by its formidable cost, yet the potential rewards are incalculable. Autonomous on-orbit servicing (OOS) vehicles could potentially repair or salvage an ailing satellite or remove it from orbit. The former could help recoup the considerable resources invested in the development and construction of a satellite, and the latter would reduce space debris. In short, the development of OOS should be promoted rather than budgeted out. This article will explore the legal ramifications and complications of unmanned OOS missions. After reviewing the international framework and the current state of affairs, this article suggests that States have an obligation to repair, salvage, or remove from orbit defunct space objects and proposes an organizational framework that will promote compliance with efforts to clean up the junkyard surrounding our planet.

The newly proposed nation-state known as Asgardia is a concept with one purpose. The proponents aim at gaining full recognition of the United Nations. While this may be equated with a chimera originating in science fiction stories, the idea is being seriously developed with fascinating repercussions to the future of international space law. Asgardia is expected to be a space station and a city-state. The space kingdom of Asgardia offers citizenship to all human beings willing to assent to its Declaration, and to abide by its Constitution. While this article addresses the background of this project, it also addresses two main international law issues applicable to this novel concept. Asgardia will have two significant challenges to overcome. The first one will be technological. The second one will be legal. This legal challenge will depend on two additional considerations: space activities and state recognition.

The public, whose support is needed to continue exploring outer space, will support outer space exploration when the social contract can demonstrably coexist with a process that increases the potential for a dignified life. Preferably, the development of space exploration starts with such a balance. Societies that deny the free flow of ideas will experience the opposite result. Over-restrictive policies, for example, illustrate how outer space exploration may interfere with reaching the resources found in that great expanse. Indeed, society's assessment of the Internet's development may predict society's assessment of outer space exploration. This article will address similarities and the need for appropriate management.

Governments and the private sector are at the center of this future management. Generally speaking, by acting in a managerial capacity, they both have the power to either propel humanity into space with expansionist policies or maroon our global society with repressive policies. But, neither are solely responsible because the future of space exploration rests with all humanity. Shared responsibility is central to the concept of a multi-stakeholder process.

This article also acknowledges the importance of space exploration and provides a view into the achievements of humanity. But, above all, this article explores the ideas and ideals of those engineers, astrophysicists, astronauts, radar technicians, and satellite technologists that have prepared humanity for future exploration and commercialization of this new frontier.

Today, having sufficient access to the Internet's information has arguably become a prerequisite for the enjoyment of human life. The Internet has become a center for human literacy and has the potential to offer numerous kinds of instruction at lower costs and with higher quality than previous media could offer. This Article will argue that the concept of a "cybered Westphalian age," as a cure to all threats in the Internet, has the potential to do more harm than good. The international community is now faced with a possible policy shift from the current state of the Internet, which is one of shared knowledge, toward the active practice of censorship and filtered content, which will have devastating consequences.