What Will Politics Look Like on Other Planets? It's Likely to Be a Mishmash
When humanity finally makes its home on other worlds — whether the rust-colored plains of Mars or the shadowed craters of the lunar south pole — a profound and deeply practical question will demand an answer: Who will be in charge? Will it be an emperor, like the messianic protagonist of Dune: Part Three, the concluding chapter of a trilogy rooted in Frank Herbert's towering sci-fi saga? Or a visionary billionaire, like the space mogul who seeds a Martian outpost in For All Mankind? Or perhaps a rebel alliance, like the scrappy revolutionaries of Star Wars and Robert A. Heinlein's seminal novel The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress?
According to Jacob Haqq Misra, an astrobiologist who has literally written the book on space sovereignty, the answer during the initial phases of extraterrestrial expansion will likely be none of the above — and that might actually be a good thing.
"You're going to have Earth cultures represented, and ideas about Earth governance represented, and what will emerge is sort of a mishmash legal framework of agreements for how to coexist peacefully. That's maybe not even so bad." — Jacob Haqq Misra
During a wide-ranging conversation on the Fiction Science podcast, Misra laid out what amounts to a remarkably sober and historically grounded perspective on the future of space politics — one anchored in earthly precedents rather than starry-eyed assumptions about humanity's destiny among the stars. His insights draw on decades of legal scholarship, geopolitical history, and the unique physical challenges of living far beyond Earth's protective biosphere.
Elon Musk's Vision for Martian Democracy
For more than a decade, SpaceX founder Elon Musk has championed the prospect of building a self-sustaining city on Mars, and more recently, a permanent base on the moon. But the question of governance has always lurked in the background. At a 2016 technology conference, Musk famously joked about being declared "king of Mars" — a quip that raised eyebrows among legal scholars and policy experts who understood the genuine complexity of the question.
In a more serious register, Musk has articulated a preference for direct democracy on Mars, arguing that such a system would be less susceptible to the entrenched corruption that plagues representative governments on Earth.
"It would be people voting directly on issues. And I think that's probably better because the potential for corruption is substantially diminished in a direct vs. a representative democracy." — Elon Musk, 2016
Musk also proposed some genuinely novel ideas about the architecture of Martian law. He suggested that it should be easier to remove a law than to create one — a philosophical inversion of how most Earth legal systems operate. His proposed framework would require a 60% supermajority to enact legislation, while only 40% of the population could trigger its repeal. Every law, he suggested, should also carry a built-in sunset provision, automatically expiring unless actively renewed by the electorate.
Whatever the merits of these ideas in principle, Misra argues that the practical and legal realities of space exploration would make such unilateral governance frameworks extremely difficult to implement — at least in the near term.
The Outer Space Treaty: Humanity's Foundational Space Law
At the heart of Misra's analysis is the Outer Space Treaty of 1967, one of the most consequential and enduring international agreements of the 20th century. Negotiated during the height of the Cold War space race, the treaty has been signed by more than 110 nations, including the United States, China, Russia, and all other major spacefaring powers.
The treaty's key provisions establish several bedrock principles of space law:
- Free use: All nations have the right to explore and use the moon and other celestial bodies for peaceful purposes.
- Non-appropriation: No nation may claim sovereignty or ownership over extraterrestrial territory — the moon, Mars, and other bodies belong to all of humanity.
- State responsibility: Governments bear legal liability for all national space activities, whether conducted by public agencies or private commercial ventures.
- Peaceful use: The placement of weapons of mass destruction in orbit or on celestial bodies is explicitly prohibited.
- International cooperation: Nations are encouraged to share scientific discoveries and assist astronauts in distress, regardless of nationality.
The practical implication is clear: even if SpaceX constructs an entire Martian city, the Outer Space Treaty would prevent Elon Musk — or any other private individual or corporation — from claiming sovereign authority over it. The United States government would retain legal responsibility for SpaceX's activities, binding Musk's Martian ambitions to the same international framework that governs every satellite, space station, and lunar lander.
Misra, who serves as chief operating officer and senior research investigator at Blue Marble Space Institute of Science, explores these tensions in exhaustive detail in his book Sovereign Mars — a rigorous, interdisciplinary examination of how humanity might realistically govern extraterrestrial settlements.
Not everyone shares Misra's reading of the treaty. Robert Zubrin, president of the nonprofit Mars Society, argues that the treaty's provisions actually mean that signatory nations have "explicitly signed away their rights to interfere with Mars settlement" — a legal interpretation that, if accepted, would grant far greater autonomy to future Martian colonists. The debate underscores just how much interpretive ambiguity remains embedded in a document that was drafted long before Mars colonization seemed like anything other than science fiction.
Earthly Analogues: Antarctica and the High Seas
To understand what governance on Mars might realistically look like, Misra points to two powerful terrestrial precedents — imperfect analogues, to be sure, but instructive ones.
The Antarctic Treaty System
Established in 1959 and entering into force in 1961, the Antarctic Treaty System is perhaps the closest Earth has come to governing an inhospitable, resource-rich frontier through multilateral cooperation rather than conquest. The 58-nation agreement places a freeze on all territorial claims of sovereignty over the Antarctic continent — a legal status quo that has held remarkably stable for nearly seven decades despite the region's growing scientific and economic importance.
Administrative decisions about international activities in Antarctica are made by a 29-nation grouping of consultative parties, supported by a secretariat based in Buenos Aires, Argentina. The continent hosts dozens of research stations operated by countries ranging from the United States and Russia to India, South Korea, and Uruguay — but no permanent civilian settlements, and certainly no cities.
Misra sees direct parallels to the early phases of Mars exploration. Antarctica demonstrates that human beings can operate sophisticated scientific outposts in one of Earth's most extreme environments under a framework of cooperative, non-sovereign governance — without anyone needing to declare independence or establish a planetary government.
"To imagine a city of a million people on Mars — I'm not saying it won't happen, but it's very difficult to do so. We don't have cities that big on Antarctica. There doesn't really seem to be an economically compelling reason for it, although there's a lot of science on Antarctica. The lesson from reality and from science fiction is: Don't forget that it's really, really hard to live in these harsh places." — Jacob Haqq Misra
The Law of the Sea: Economic Zones as a Model
The United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), adopted in 1982, offers another illuminating template. The treaty establishes a comprehensive legal framework for humanity's relationship with the world's oceans — including the creation of Exclusive Economic Zones (EEZs) extending 200 nautical miles beyond a nation's territorial coastline. Within these zones, coastal nations hold sovereign rights over resource extraction, energy production, and scientific research, while still permitting freedom of navigation and overflight for all other states.
Crucially, the United States has never formally ratified UNCLOS — yet it largely adheres to the treaty's provisions out of sheer pragmatic necessity. International maritime commerce, environmental protection, and military operations all function more smoothly when everyone operates within the same broadly accepted framework, regardless of formal legal obligations.
Misra envisions a similar dynamic emerging in space. If the United States and China both establish bases near the lunar south pole — a region of intense interest due to its water-ice deposits and near-permanent solar illumination — they might informally agree to establish mutually recognized exclusive zones around their respective settlements, without requiring a new formal treaty. It's pragmatism, not idealism, that would drive such arrangements.
"I don't expect territorial conflict. The moon is really big. It's going to be a while before we run into the problem of two entities wanting to occupy the same place." — Jacob Haqq Misra
The International Space Station: A Template for Martian Complexity
If the Antarctic Treaty and UNCLOS represent macro-level governance models, the International Space Station (ISS) offers a micro-level preview of the jurisdictional labyrinth that awaits future space settlements. The ISS is not governed by a single unified legal authority — rather, each module attached to the station is the sovereign property of the nation that built and contributed it, governed by that nation's laws.
The practical consequences of this arrangement are both fascinating and deeply strange. When data is transmitted electronically from one module to another, it passes through the legal jurisdictions of multiple nations in rapid succession. When a Russian cosmonaut floats through a connecting tunnel into an American-built module, they have, in a very real legal sense, crossed an international border in microgravity — without a passport check, customs declaration, or visa requirement.
Misra expects that early Martian settlements will inherit precisely this kind of complex, overlapping jurisdictional patchwork — a planetary mishmash reflecting the multinational character of the agencies and corporations that build and operate the habitats. Rather than a single Martian constitution or planetary government, the first settlers are more likely to live under a layered web of national laws, bilateral agreements, consortium rules, and pragmatic local adaptations.
The Failed Moon Treaty and the Future of Space Law
In 1979, the United Nations attempted to go further than the Outer Space Treaty by negotiating the Agreement Governing the Activities of States on the Moon and Other Celestial Bodies — commonly known as the Moon Treaty. The agreement proposed declaring the moon and its resources the "common heritage of mankind" and called for the establishment of an international regime to govern resource extraction.
The Moon Treaty has languished in relative obscurity ever since. While it technically remains "on the books," it has attracted only a small number of signatories — none of which possess independent spaceflight capabilities. No major spacefaring nation — not the United States, China, Russia, or any European country — has ratified it. Most legal scholars now regard it as effectively dead, a cautionary tale about the limits of idealistic multilateralism in the face of competing national interests and commercial ambitions.
Rather than pinning hopes on a revived or replacement treaty, Misra believes the world's space powers will develop new forms of cooperative governance that sit outside the traditional UN framework — what he describes as "multi-actor consortiums" that balance national interests with the collective imperatives of science and exploration.
"They might be outside the jurisdiction of the United Nations, for example, but they might be great things that aren't just driving forward profits for private entities. They might really reflect cooperation for science and exploration." — Jacob Haqq Misra
Pathways to Sovereignty: Breaking the Legal Deadlock
Despite his generally conservative outlook on near-term space governance, Misra acknowledges that the Outer Space Treaty's constraints on sovereignty are not immutable. He identifies several plausible mechanisms by which extraterrestrial independence might eventually be achieved — each carrying its own geopolitical risks and opportunities.
- Treaty withdrawal: Any signatory nation could legally withdraw from the Outer Space Treaty with one year's notice, as permitted under the agreement's terms. A nation willing to accept the diplomatic consequences could then assert full sovereignty over territory it controls in space. Space billionaire Robert Bigelow warned as far back as 2011 that China might pursue exactly this strategy.
- Relocating operations: A private spacefaring company like SpaceX could theoretically move its legal base of operations — including its launch facilities — to a country that is not a party to the Outer Space Treaty, thereby escaping the treaty's provisions regarding state responsibility for private ventures.
- Congressional delegation: In Sovereign Mars, Misra proposes a more institutionally grounded pathway: the U.S. Congress could pass legislation formally surrendering American territorial jurisdiction over a designated area of the moon or Mars, effectively granting that settlement the legal foundation for self-governance with the blessing of an existing nation-state.
"If you get the blessing from Congress, then you've got the backing of a nation-state that says we agree with this long-term vision of establishing autonomy," Misra explains. "There might be a discussion about it at the U.N., but if the United States did that, we'd hear about China doing something similar in a few years."
Challenging Earth's Institutions from 140 Million Miles Away
Perhaps the most philosophically rich dimension of Misra's work is his insistence that thinking carefully about Martian governance is not merely a futuristic exercise — it is a tool for interrogating and improving political and legal institutions here on Earth. The extreme conditions of Mars, he argues, serve as a kind of stress test for ideas that have become calcified through familiarity.
What does democratic representation mean when a settlement has only 50 people, all specialists with advanced degrees, all employed by the same organization? How do property rights function when every resource — air, water, soil, sunlight — must be engineered and maintained rather than simply existing in natural abundance? How do legal systems handle disputes when the nearest court is a 20-minute signal delay away and evacuation is impossible for months at a time?
"That's what I think is valuable about thinking about governance on Mars: not that it's a place to start over, but it's a way to challenge our ideas to the extreme," Misra says. "Maybe we never live on Mars full time, but we challenge our ideas and apply those back here on Earth."
In the end, Misra's perspective converges with Musk's on at least one fundamental point: the question of Martian governance should ultimately be answered by the Martians themselves. Whatever legal frameworks Earth governments impose in the early decades of settlement, the lived experience of surviving on a cold, airless, radiation-drenched world separated from Earth by hundreds of millions of kilometers will inevitably shape its own political culture — one that may bear little resemblance to anything imagined by science fiction writers, space lawyers, or tech billionaires today.
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