The Commercial Space Age offers the United States a rare chance to claim not just technological leadership, but moral leadership. In a crowded low Earth orbit, with thousands of satellites circling the planet and millions of fragments of debris, there is a growing risk of collisions that could cripple GPS, communications and broadband worldwide. Addressing this challenge could become one of the most consequential acts of diplomacy of the 21st century — and potentially worthy of a Nobel Peace Prize.
Virginia’s Senators Mark Warner and Tim Kaine are uniquely positioned to lead that effort. With Warner serving as a leader on the Senate Intelligence Committee and Kaine serving on Armed Services and Foreign Relations, both possess the credibility to champion international agreements on orbital navigation and debris mitigation. Wallops Island, one of the few commercial orbital spaceports in the U.S., gives them a tangible connection to the frontlines of the new space economy. Through a bipartisan push, they could convene allies and rivals alike to craft rules that prevent orbital chaos before catastrophe strikes. Such an international treaty should be among the global peace initiatives of President Donald Trump.
History demonstrates that necessity drives law. In the 17th and 18th centuries, crowded waterways and roads forced nations to codify rules: England went left, France and the United States went right, and centuries of maritime practice became the Law of the Seas. Today, we need the same in orbit: binding norms on debris removal, collision avoidance, and safe lanes for satellites — standards that must be international and enforceable.
NASA astronaut William “Bill” Readdy, a retired Virginia Space leader, exemplifies how diplomacy and space exploration can intersect. During his 1996 Shuttle–Mir mission STS-79, he commanded the first U.S.–Russian crew exchange aboard the Russian space station Mir. In a moment, just five years after the Soviet Union’s collapse, Readdy broke a diplomatic barrier: adversaries worked together in orbit even while distrust persisted on Earth. That bridge later made the International Space Station possible and proved that space could serve as a venue for cooperation rather than conflict.
That lesson is urgent now. The Ukraine War will eventually end, and diplomacy will need channels of engagement with Russia. The channel between U.S. and Russian space agencies has not been broken for over 20 years at the International Space Station. Orbital policy offers precisely that — a domain where cooperation is in every party’s self-interest. China, India, Japan, and Europe all share a stake in preserving the orbits that sustain modern economies. A treaty that codifies navigation rules and debris mitigation could be a landmark act of global stewardship, and perhaps the rare treaty that earns a Nobel Peace Prize for advancing both safety and peace.
Yet the story is not only international — situational awareness of the challenge to the global commons was discussed by students in Virginia. In 2019, public school students from the Appalachian Plateau launched ‘ThinSats,’ CD-case-sized satellites, from Wallops Island into extremely low Earth orbit (eLEO) to avoid becoming space debris. For communities long defined by coal mining, the student exercise was transformative: a tangible demonstration that local ingenuity can reach space. Astronaut Readdy had earlier visited these coalfield communities of Wise and Hazard, Ky., to make the connection between mining, metallurgy and the demands of space exploration, showing students that the skills embedded in Appalachian labor had cosmic relevance.
Today, hundreds of households in those same communities rely on satellites orbiting overhead for connection. Families use Starlink broadband to access jobs, education and telehealth. Many freshmen students heading to the University of Virginia’s College at Wise rely on GPS for guidance to the campus. These young people, whose lives are intertwined with the sky above, are proof that orbital policy is not abstract — it shapes opportunities, livelihoods and economic growth.
The stakes are practical as well as moral. Each collision in orbit threatens trillions of dollars of infrastructure, from telecommunications to weather monitoring. Without enforceable rules, orbital chaos could stall the commercial space economy and compromise national security. With them, the U.S. can lead not only in technology but in responsible governance, turning shared risk into shared responsibility.
The Commercial Space Age, then, is not just about rockets or markets — it is about conscience and foresight. By combining the inspiration of Virginia students with the leadership of Sens. Warner and Kaine, and by taking lessons from pioneers like Bill Readdy, the United States could convene the world to agree on norms for orbit and beyond. Such an act of international cooperation, bridging former rivals and protecting a shared common good, would deserve global recognition — and could be a Nobel Peace Prize moment, honoring diplomacy conducted among the stars rather than on battlefields.
From Appalachia’s coalfields to Wallops Island, from Starlink broadband to GPS-guided journeys to college, the message is clear: the sky above us is shared, finite and precious. Suppose humanity chooses order over chaos, cooperation over conflict and stewardship over neglect. In that case, the next generation will inherit not only a cleaner orbit but a model of diplomacy that may well be the defining achievement of our time and worthy of the Nobel Peace Prize.
Jack Kennedy, M.S., M.A., J.D., a member of the Virginia State Bar, is a native of the Central Appalachian Plateau of Virginia. He holds a Master of Science in Space Law & Policy from U of North Dakota and a certificate in International Law from the U of London, Birkbeck. He is a former member of the Virginia Commercial Spaceflight Authority for nearly a decade, and he now serves as a docent at the U.S. Space Force Museum at Cape Canaveral Station, Florida.